Repeater Mini-Festival
Shacklewell Arms | 16 March
It’s another beautiful summer’s day in the middle of March, and the Shacklewell Arms has duly provided an excuse to shield it’s citizens from the cruel heat and blistering sun with a brand new bi-monthly music festival: Repeater. “Come one come all,” they sang, “drink from a selection of fine guest ales as you browse our extensive fayre of zany zines, imprudent illustrations, and crass cassettes, and hole up in the back room for a line-up that will make your sun cream turn sour.” Crack got the call and cancelled the picnic.
At barely 5pm the weather-powered pints were already flowing with such magnitude as to dishevel any notion of this being a minor event. Amidst brightly-beaming stall owners there drifted swathes of keen-eyed fashionistas; animated members of monochrome East London bands lurked in support of their siblings of the stage, and even the odd SXSW returnee stood posited at the bar, wearily attempting to continue the musical high.
Americana-flavoured three-piece Blueprint Blue were first to the fore with a compelling set full of doe-eyed Neil Young-isms performed with the tightest solidarity, in a half-hour set comprised of four rousing furrows. From the tenderly melodic rhythm section that backed sprawling opener The Cabin is Cold, to the furious blues stylings that flailed and corrupted each Down By The River chord that followed, the melodic trio were every bit the band to rival The Band.
Carpark Records’ Popstrangers followed with dreamy reverbed guitars playing ode to ‘80s indie champions like The Smiths and Felt, with tracks like Rats In The Palm Trees offering up a picturesque companion to the warm lights of red and blue that adorned their stage. Later, Crack favourites Autobahn performed with all the rage of a fiery Badwan brother (be it The Horrors’ towering frontman Faris, or his LOOM counterpart, Tarik). With one guitarist paying t-shirt tribute to recent tour buddies Eagulls, the band blizzarded through a fierce set that recalled post-punk potentates such as Joy Division for colossal tracks bearing such repellent titles as Force Fed and Seizure.
Brighton bedroom-baron-slash-pillow-punk producer Theo Verney followed in what was easily one of the best sets of the evening – so good, in fact, that Crack’s usually robust company left immediately due to it being “unbearable”. That person was swiftly replaced for thirty minutes of alternating between giddy-up grunge riffs and the kind of green-brained head banging that would make Dinosaur Jr.’s Sludgefeast cry tears of fairy liquid. The eponymous frontman, behind slicks of long black hair, cooed psychedelic sing-a-longs dipped in tar on tracks like Heavy Sunn, and even paid his dues by bursting into a few bars of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s Freebird solo in a climactic finale.
Four more freebirds followed-up for a headline performance worthy of the 5,000-odd miles they had travelled from Portland, Oregon. Nefarious lo-fi fiends White Fang were the guys in coloured shirts and beady glasses making the smoking area feel like Wayne’s World all afternoon, and it translated spectacularly to the stage. With new album Full Time Freaks on the brink of inciting Andrew W.K. levels of partying, the four-piece spewed a mixture of punk acrobatics and Ariel Pink-esque lunacy across the floor for a hugely fun set.
With a soggy pair of shorts and far fewer brain cells than we had arrived with, Crack peeled itself away from the triumphant opening weekend of Repeater festival, and take our word for it – this one goes all the way up to eleven.
– – – – – – – – – –
Words: James Balmont
CONNECT TO CRACK
