On Thursday 5th February I had a great night out in Oxford with Mark Hughes and, though it was almost a fortnight ago, I thought the occasion warranted a blog post. The format of the evening was food followed by a gig and I shall write about both.
It so happens that Oxford is Mark’s home town and so he was able to recommend/book a restaurant and even offer advice on off-street parking (and that local knowledge came in handy).
We met up on the Cowley Road and headed to Atomic Burger for food. Mark, knowing my penchant for all things retro, picked a perfect eatery from my perspective – the joint, as well as a burger bar, was as good as a museum of childhood too. Toys and film memorabilia were stacked on all the available shelves and even hanging from the ceiling. The burgers were all named after film characters – mine a chicken “Chuck Norris” and Mark’s a beef “Jack Burton”.
The engaging surroundings meant I was twisting my head and neck about as much as I would be during the banging heavy metal gig that came later - I’ll be honest, I was at great risk of spilling the ingredients of my burger down the front of my AC/DC tee shirt.
After much chomping and chatting, the meal was done and it was time to head off to the gig. Now the venue-savvy readers amongst you will know that the Cowley Road is home to the O2 academy…
…that was not our destination.
The gig we were going to was in a decidedly pokey, slightly grotty, ironically named pub called “The Library”. Seriously the place was so small it was like watching the bands performing in one’s lounge (albeit with lower ceilings, poor decoration and more of a pong…a student house then). I can’t complain about the less than salubrious surroundings though because the gig was free, and it was good!
Once inside the pub, it was necessary to descend some steps at the rear of the bar to get to the gig room. The space, totally packed out by the fifty (or thereabouts) layabouts, was hot, rather more intimate than ideal and in places low ceilinged enough to warrant padding, or the wearing of a crash helmet. Put it this way, one would have to have been suicidal to contemplate pogoing!
That stated, there was one fellow that must have been six foot six inches tall and maybe even higher than that. I can only theorise that he must have watched the gig on his knees.
The first band we saw (the second on the undercard) named “Mother Corona” (MC) was a local three-piece where the lead singer was also the drummer – and crikey, you really need to have some coordination to be able to manage two hands, two feet and sing at the same time! Way beyond me for sure – it’s hard enough for me to get my beer from waist height to mouth without missing.
I also noted that MC’s guitarist, a capable, Gibson Les Paul playing geezer was so heavily inked that he could have been sponsored by Parker.
The band played a number of songs, my favourite of which was “Stone Cold Universe”. It is possible to buy CDs from Mother Corona, this track alone makes the band’s “Reburn” album worth buying.
Though I didn’t know it at the time, you can’t buy MC’s stuff on Amazon – I am kicking myself that I didn’t buy a copy at the gig. Still there was barely enough space for the band let alone its merchandising operation.
By the end of the MC set, my hearing was already affected from the close proximity of the PA system. Ear plugs would have been a good idea.
After an interlude, punctuated by the obligatory sound checking, the main act of the evening took to the floor.
Desert Storm is a five piece outfit – that meant two extra people in the space that was a challenge for three.
Bearing in mind that Desert Storm holds a record contract and has readily available albums for sale, it amazes me that there was less space between the band and its audience than is normally found betwixt commuters packed into tube trains during the rush hour.
Still to the band’s credit, the members took the limitations of the venue in their strides. The singer, a bloke called Matt Ryan, was good natured, even apologetic about the fact he could hardly move, couldn’t even stand up straight in some places and could have been cuddled at any moment by the stocky and ugly looking chaps (whom he might as well have been serenading) that were stood just inches from his nose.
As I understand it the gig was a warm up event prior to some dates in Belgium, Germany and Holland – one thing is for certain, in the cramped, dark environment of the Library, it wasn’t so much warm as roasting.
Matt Ryan sings from low down in his throat and his voice has a guttural, occasionally gargled type of sound that I can’t replicate at all. When I try it hurts and I end up coughing; I have no idea how he manages to sing song after song like that. His appearance doesn’t suit his voice – in my opinion he looks like a young Lee Majors and yet sounds like Regan from the Exorcist (when she's having one of her turns). Though he can growl, songs like “Home” from the recently released “Omniscient” album prove he can genuinely sing well too.
The band played a number of tunes from the Omniscient and Horizontal Life (HL) albums and I have to state that the set list was cracking – having listened to HL all the way from Milton Keynes to Oxford, I bought a copy of Omniscient from one of the guitarists and, by way of an encore, listened to that all the way home to Daventry.
Though this band is accomplished, it is relatively new and, if you are getting a little long of tooth (like me), you might not have heard of it. To be honest I hadn’t until 2013 but Mark lent me his HL CD and I liked it so much I bought my own copy. Now unless you are a buddy, I can’t lend you mine but I can spread the word and share a recommendation.
Desert Storm is a band that I want to see again and again (though perhaps in less intimate surroundings). If you like heavy, sludgy Black Sabbath like metal, look this band up on YouTube, buy a CD or go to a gig and decide if you agree with me.
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It so happens that Oxford is Mark’s home town and so he was able to recommend/book a restaurant and even offer advice on off-street parking (and that local knowledge came in handy).
We met up on the Cowley Road and headed to Atomic Burger for food. Mark, knowing my penchant for all things retro, picked a perfect eatery from my perspective – the joint, as well as a burger bar, was as good as a museum of childhood too. Toys and film memorabilia were stacked on all the available shelves and even hanging from the ceiling. The burgers were all named after film characters – mine a chicken “Chuck Norris” and Mark’s a beef “Jack Burton”.
The engaging surroundings meant I was twisting my head and neck about as much as I would be during the banging heavy metal gig that came later - I’ll be honest, I was at great risk of spilling the ingredients of my burger down the front of my AC/DC tee shirt.
After much chomping and chatting, the meal was done and it was time to head off to the gig. Now the venue-savvy readers amongst you will know that the Cowley Road is home to the O2 academy…
…that was not our destination.
The gig we were going to was in a decidedly pokey, slightly grotty, ironically named pub called “The Library”. Seriously the place was so small it was like watching the bands performing in one’s lounge (albeit with lower ceilings, poor decoration and more of a pong…a student house then). I can’t complain about the less than salubrious surroundings though because the gig was free, and it was good!
Once inside the pub, it was necessary to descend some steps at the rear of the bar to get to the gig room. The space, totally packed out by the fifty (or thereabouts) layabouts, was hot, rather more intimate than ideal and in places low ceilinged enough to warrant padding, or the wearing of a crash helmet. Put it this way, one would have to have been suicidal to contemplate pogoing!
That stated, there was one fellow that must have been six foot six inches tall and maybe even higher than that. I can only theorise that he must have watched the gig on his knees.
The first band we saw (the second on the undercard) named “Mother Corona” (MC) was a local three-piece where the lead singer was also the drummer – and crikey, you really need to have some coordination to be able to manage two hands, two feet and sing at the same time! Way beyond me for sure – it’s hard enough for me to get my beer from waist height to mouth without missing.
I also noted that MC’s guitarist, a capable, Gibson Les Paul playing geezer was so heavily inked that he could have been sponsored by Parker.
The band played a number of songs, my favourite of which was “Stone Cold Universe”. It is possible to buy CDs from Mother Corona, this track alone makes the band’s “Reburn” album worth buying.
Though I didn’t know it at the time, you can’t buy MC’s stuff on Amazon – I am kicking myself that I didn’t buy a copy at the gig. Still there was barely enough space for the band let alone its merchandising operation.
By the end of the MC set, my hearing was already affected from the close proximity of the PA system. Ear plugs would have been a good idea.
After an interlude, punctuated by the obligatory sound checking, the main act of the evening took to the floor.
Desert Storm is a five piece outfit – that meant two extra people in the space that was a challenge for three.
Bearing in mind that Desert Storm holds a record contract and has readily available albums for sale, it amazes me that there was less space between the band and its audience than is normally found betwixt commuters packed into tube trains during the rush hour.
Still to the band’s credit, the members took the limitations of the venue in their strides. The singer, a bloke called Matt Ryan, was good natured, even apologetic about the fact he could hardly move, couldn’t even stand up straight in some places and could have been cuddled at any moment by the stocky and ugly looking chaps (whom he might as well have been serenading) that were stood just inches from his nose.
As I understand it the gig was a warm up event prior to some dates in Belgium, Germany and Holland – one thing is for certain, in the cramped, dark environment of the Library, it wasn’t so much warm as roasting.
Matt Ryan sings from low down in his throat and his voice has a guttural, occasionally gargled type of sound that I can’t replicate at all. When I try it hurts and I end up coughing; I have no idea how he manages to sing song after song like that. His appearance doesn’t suit his voice – in my opinion he looks like a young Lee Majors and yet sounds like Regan from the Exorcist (when she's having one of her turns). Though he can growl, songs like “Home” from the recently released “Omniscient” album prove he can genuinely sing well too.
The band played a number of tunes from the Omniscient and Horizontal Life (HL) albums and I have to state that the set list was cracking – having listened to HL all the way from Milton Keynes to Oxford, I bought a copy of Omniscient from one of the guitarists and, by way of an encore, listened to that all the way home to Daventry.
Though this band is accomplished, it is relatively new and, if you are getting a little long of tooth (like me), you might not have heard of it. To be honest I hadn’t until 2013 but Mark lent me his HL CD and I liked it so much I bought my own copy. Now unless you are a buddy, I can’t lend you mine but I can spread the word and share a recommendation.
Desert Storm is a band that I want to see again and again (though perhaps in less intimate surroundings). If you like heavy, sludgy Black Sabbath like metal, look this band up on YouTube, buy a CD or go to a gig and decide if you agree with me.
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