LIVE MUSIC: Malu van Leeuwen
SOMEBODY’s got to say it: local music has a=20 dangerous anthropological fascination with=20 American music. It’s almost as if the=20 international patent has to wear off before=20 the influences can filter in and be locally=20 appropriated.=20
In its (white) rock incarnation this is the=20 curse that Cape Town band Shooting Corine=20 suffer from: instrumentally it takes the=20 form of post-grunge-by-numbers, vocally=20 it’s the tired fixation with the Eddie=20 Vedder (Pearl Jam) cum Chris Cornell=20 (Soundgarden) style – the soaring=20 angstified tremolo that starts in the back=20 of the throat and ends up in a nasal whine.=20
I’d been led to believe that Shooting=20 Corine was a punk band. Where that piece of=20 publicity came from, I’ve no idea, but it’s=20 both wrong and right. They’re not punk,=20 certainly not as the term was coined in the=20 late Seventies; what they audibly resemble=20 is “new punk”, that is, Nineties three- chord grungy guitarisms =E0 la Green Day=20 punctuated by abovementioned vocals.=20
To their credit, Shooting Corine aren’t=20 that interested in snappy eardrum blasts=20 that mimic the audience’s attention span.=20 Their songs are lengthy epics that drift in=20 and out of the verse-chorus-verse=20 structure, so much so that, unfortunately,=20 they create the ambience of a practice room=20 session. Is this experimental, or is this=20 jamming? When they do kickdown in the song=20 Bar Flies, you know they could be good – if=20 only they paid attention.=20
If they were in the United States, Shooting=20 Corine would have a CD out and a record=20 deal nestling under those sweaty guitar=20 straps. But they’re not and they don’t,=20 which is why when they assemble onstage -=20 after donning those ridiculous oversized=20 crustie hats – you wish they’d lose the=20 laidback slacker wackiness and the pseudo- funky grooves.
Interestingly, newcomers Seven Head Scream=20 take British music as their point of=20 departure. This is unusual in that it=20 breaks the monotony of listening to local=20 bands that, year in and year out,=20 faithfully emulate American grunge-rock as=20 the musical standard. Where Shooting Corine=20 bow to Nineties new punk (otherwise known=20 as post-grunge), Seven Head Scream do=20 Bauhaus, that is, seminal early Eighties=20 gothic new wave.
As Seven Head Scream are about to start,=20 the first three front rows sit down (this=20 isn’t easy and requires some effort because=20 Ruby’s is a venue as small as a very small=20 rock). In Cape Town culture, this is a=20 compliment: it means the band is actually=20 worth watching. Things become clearer when=20 James, the vocalist – who visually reminds=20 me of a young Johnny Rotten with the camp=20 presence of a David Bowie – starts jumping=20 up and down like a human totem pole.=20
He presides over the entire gig like an=20 androgynous elf who has gleefully stepped=20 into the secret proceedings of a witches’=20 coven.=20
He is delighted with himself, he cannot=20 contain his delight. Clearly, this is the=20 most exciting performer since Arno Carstens=20 of the Springbok Nude Girls was deified as=20 South Africa’s sex-rock god.
The sour note comes when I glance back at=20 their flyer that promises “minor=20 installations” (OK, so there was a small=20 slide show), “kinky atmosphere” (all the=20 people in black?), and “trip-hop vibes”=20 (none, except for the bergies outside).
Although they claim to be “a challenging=20 hybrid” wherein “jazz, Eastern, jungle and=20 funk collide inside a classic heavy rock=20 format”, what they are, essentially, is a=20 Nineties take on a goth revival, packaged=20 with appropriate song titles (like=20 Valentine Chainsaw) and the vocal delivery=20 of Bauhaus Peter Murphy, who, it’s been=20 said, has been dead for years.=20 Metaphorically, of course.=20
Their first song (name not announced),=20 repeated as an encore, is by far the best.=20 Later, there’s also some cascading slide=20 guitar with punky, crunchy bits that allow=20 the vocalist to indulge his passion for=20 performing.=20
The worst moments, though rare, are when=20 they sound like the House of Love (gone and=20 very forgotten). It’s not quite the=20 pyrotechnics promised by their flyer, but=20 it is a refreshingly lateral=20 interpretation.=20
It means that whatever the hype about the=20 “local music explosion”, it’s time to look=20 at anthropology elsewhere than the US – =20 and Seven Head Scream are ahead of the pack=20 in this respect.