Monday, November 08, 2004

Cinestatic wunderkind conquers King’s Cross

Mike Smunk performed under the difficult conditions of having seven or eight dozen pretend punks crushed up against his face in the entirely agreeable surroundings of York Way’s The Lincoln Lounge. The night was called Never Mind the Fireworks, Here’s the Bollocks (John Lydon might have approved but was aplagued by bugs last time I checked).

Initial sound problems were fairly quickly surmounted and a deep and stonking set ensued. Trademark Smunkisms (trumpet spanning fragile-to-startlingly emphatic, too-dark bass, funky Rhodes, squelchy synth) combined with elements previously less prominent (more drum 'n bass flavours, freaky rubato FX), all funnelled through the nervy intensity of Smunk's coaxing and cajoling his machinic appendages. Stand out tracks were Hobgoblin with its quietly manic trumpet line, the newly junglist Darned No Good Shoes and the climactic Human Thing.

Considering very few of the audience knew the stuff, the response was muted but entirely favourable and appreciative, a number of arses swinging with the scattered grooves. Roll on the next one – with a better showing of fully primed troops the roof will be blown off and no mistake

bruce @
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