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Bar Blu, Rhyl 08.12.04

(review 'n' pix by neil crud)

Crud Crew - Steve Sync, Neil Crud, Andy Fatman, MWJ

The Z-List Celebrities have just sent me their Christmas Sucks single; The Fondlers are about to do the same so the yuletide festivities are about to rock and roll.
One of the best presents you could ask for was given to us by Steven Gerrard when he slammed home that crucial goal 4 mins from time in the Champions League; Merry Fuckin’ Christmas! So, as usual it was a case of celebrating or drowning your sorrows. For me and Steve it was a case of Carling merryment, for the scum fans represented by Fatman and MWJ is was a sorrowful evening where they consoled each other with another male bonding session.

We had braved the December air to witness 3 bands in Blu and surprisingly all 3 showed up!
L98 have slimmed down and tightened up. ‘We’re L98 and we’ve been fucking rehearsing you twats.’ Well they didn’t say that, they didn’t say anything in fact, but they did deliver some chunky fast tunes. L98 have ditched their singer and the guitarist who looks like he’s just been told off by teacher for bumming toads, has taken on vocal duties. They rehearse in Cumi’s Studio (he of Sons of Selina and Alien Matter) and Cumi being touchy as usual had to tell the guitarist to be polite and not grunt at him! Ace!
Beanie, the girl with the biggest mohican in North Wales and ball licker to Wayne of Stuntface suggested that L98 are poo and they hardcore bum fuck each other & kidnap old ladies. It was that kind of evening.
But with 30 second songs you’ve not the time to dwell on missing grannies, and only had a slight twinge of pain when they played a Cox sounding song. I miss The Cox. I accosted the guitarist-singer afterwards (I don’t even know his name) & demanded a demo, he told me they were recording soon in Cumi’s studio and also that he played the gig with a broken finger. There’s dedication for ya! Playing through the pain barrier.

Next up was a band billed as Chaos Theory who turned out to be Fear ‘n’ Loathing, whether they were a late replacement or they were toying with a new name or they thought some people would stay away if they were playing.
’Yo ladies and gentlemen, live on stage now, please give a warm welcome to FEAR ‘N’ LOATHING’ yelped the DJ dripping with cheese as usual (great tunes crap compare – although it wouldn’t be the same any other way). F’n’L really should change their name, I know their semi-chilled manager has been bouncing it off them for a while and I know the Braxton Hicks is the one for them!
I asked a staggering Steve Sync to describe them for me and he wrote;
’Bubbling spunk on a cottage cheese farm in Worcestershire on a cold Monday morning whilst trying to shit a blackbird out of a small terraced house on a council estate in Morecambe.’
Jeez! That Carling is good stuff… Another 4 pints please bar lady!
Fatman suggested that Sync was totally pissed and that the smell of my Secretary was too much to handle.
So with neither making sense and MWJ on a night off, it was left to me to sort it out…
I never recognise the songs of F’n’L (apart from Murphys Law), maybe its cos they’re constantly progressing, & yet everytime I see them they make me move inside (no, I haven’t just shit myself). So there’s gotta be something about them. Considering last March they supported The Damned & were pretty good then, they’re 10 times better now… Just change the name please…
Sync, now smelling of Carl Gintis’ cum (it’s a very short story, just like his dick) grappled for my pen and spurted forth more prose.
’With the testosterone of a limpet, we listen to the amazing crill-like lillet style anal stimulation that can only be created by Fatman.’

To be from Worthing darn sarf and playing in Rhyl deserves a round of applause in itself. So Once Over took to the stage well, floor… There’s no elevation here. And people had returned to see them the 2nd time round and those of us who were once Over virgins were in for a hymen splitting treat. As we were kicked in the head by hardcore ska! This lot were fucking nuts, like the Dead Pets without the cabaret. I didn’t believe the hype (I never do), but these were fucking spot on. A wild 3-piece brass section and morons running all over the place, it was well worth staying up past my bedtime for! Sync was enthusing that the south coast must be really buzzing with bands like Once Over & Howards Alias (who we saw in the summer), I reckon he’s just after a trip to to the hi-energy scene in Brighton.
We were even treated to a bit of fistycuffs on the dancefloor between a skinhead who’d been dancing all night & some other lad who got kicked out for his part.
Carl & Amy Gintis, feeling sorry for a touring band, poor with no food, went to the 24 hour garage & brought Once Over a midnight feast of bread, cheese and ham. Rastin, ecstatic with the performance booked them again in July, Fatman disappeared and Steve Sync walked home!

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