ARTFUL NIGHT - THE WALPOLE - SATURDAY 3RD SEPTEMBER


This was the opening night for 2 of South East London?s leading London promoters. ?I Love New Cross? and ?Rocklands? have got together for the first P.O.L.E night of unsigned talent and it was a rip roaring set of rock n roll hedonism.

To open the night Riotlounge pumped the room full of headfast grunge that?s Soundgarden and My Bloody Valentine mixed into a bouncing ball of melody.

Berkshire?s The Shake play the kind of feel good, summery, get up and dance pop rock that the wonderful Sons & Daughters do so well. The female fronted four piece take in all the sounds of motown, mod and rock to make a refreshing taste.

Two songs in and the catchy beat and foot tapping riffs get the back of the room dancing and twirling around. The 60s retro sound brings to mind a modern twist on the Beatles, Animals or Small Faces and singer Faye Hurst?s voice has a croon like quality soars over noodling guitar solo?s

BugGirl are an Australian hard rock duo that are in the middle of a European tour and as Thor the Hammer God is my witness they rock the Walpole to its very foundations.

The pair are tighter than a proverbial ducks arse in water and with the feisty vixen singer/guitarist BugGirl herself they have the epitome of an in-yer-face rock bitch that makes Brody Dalle look like tinkerbell.

AC/DC High octane rock riffing, classic 80s rock guitar solo?s behind the head, with an element of both Goth and metal they emerge from the shadows like a giant swamp monster. It?s the sound of Nick Oliveri pounding Jon Spencer?s head against a bass drum. They?ve made tonight their own.

The Troubled took the stage around midnight already pretty wrecked but in the singer, although drunk, they have someone with not necessarily the best voice (think Caleb Followill of Kings of Leon) but he has such an iconic presence.

Musically they?re an accomplished brit-rock band of merriment with one of their dad?s on lead guitar (hey, it worked for the Mystery Jets) and after getting the crowd very pumped up with joyous yelps across the room, the keyboardist takes to the microphone for a very tender moment. Her voice gently floats over the hushed instruments. It?s a band that are full of promise, but you wonder whether they?ll harness it.

White Man Kamikaze come on at 1am play a half hour set of furious punk that would make Iggy and the Stooges shit themselves. This is pure whisky soaked trailer trash ripping up the rule book.

There?s little you can say about White Man Kamikaze without gushing. Simply go see them for yourself.
 

Reviewed by Lee Puddefoot