Saturday night I headed to the Tote Slow Club for my weekly dose of punk; not before getting stuck in a conversation about Quantum Physics so missed the first band Nun of the Tongue, felt like a massive dick. The general consensus was that they were trashy and fun. I arrived to Going Swimming proudly telling the crowd to read their infamous Beat review from a few weeks back. I’ve seen them before and I still think they’re a bunch of fun muntas that write good songs; their structures are interesting, their 5,6,7,8’sesque “ooh ooh’s” give it a camaraderie-ship, and consequently they just have a ball on stage.
Bad Vision was next with their high-end-fast-paced-garage-proto-punk-rock. Every time I see them I think how lucky they are to have found Jerome as a front man; the spawn of Jello and Garrett, but then I think how lucky they are to have found each other and I’m never sure who to bloody watch; a bunch of tight talents as chilled on their instruments as ice-cream is at a fair.
You can tell the crowd for Bad Vision and Kremlings are here to see the real shit. And Kremlings were that. They’re so good at their instruments they don’t give a shit, they just wanna wreak havoc on you, or themselves, or the floor and sex the wall with their guitars. But at the same time they wanna give your ear-drums a heavy flow of un-wavering original songs that pay tribute to their obvious influences but do so in their own Kremlings way. And that way is a good good way.
BY FRANNY B
Loved: Going Swimming bassist is entertaining as shit.
Hated: Not much.
Drank: Pots.
