Music / Reviews
Review: Piratefest 2018, Motion
Timbers are certainly shivering outside Motion on a freezing Saturday night as Bristol’s scurvy sots and buxom wenches prepare to storm this, erm, warehouse-shaped tavern for an evening of drunken tomfoolery.
Around half the audience have elected to dress up for the occasion. Many have gone full Johnny Depp, which makes for a slightly alarming sight as they maraud their way from Temple Meads.
is needed now More than ever
Elsewhere, there’s a surfeit of plastic cutlasses, eyepatches, bandanas and parrots of all varieties, from soft toys to giant inflatables. Everyone is in the mood to see planks both spanked and walked, though the running order turns out to be a bit of a surprise.
First up at the decidedly unpiratical hour of 6:20pm are California’s The Dread Crew of Oddwood, who prove to be the best musicians of the evening. Five metal dudes who play self-styled ‘heavy mahogany’ exclusively on acoustic instruments while clad in full pirate regalia, they certainly put on a hugely entertaining show.
One Wolfbeard O’Brady is effectively the frontman, and a pretty damn nimble accordion player to boot, but virtually all of these accomplished buccaneers take turns on vocals while also wrangling whistles, accordion, mandolin, bouzouki, upright bass, ukelele and drums. When they’re all singing, it sounds oddly like folky, Heavy Horses-era Jethro Tull.
Back home, the Dread Crew seem to be regulars on the sedate Renaissance Fair circuit. They clearly relish the opportunity to perform in front of a packed and rabid metal audience on their maiden European invasion. The somewhat muddy sound mix doesn’t do them any favours, but the musicianship is impeccable, even as these crazy corsairs leap about the poop deck with all the wild abandon of a crew who’ve just plundered City Hall of all its booty.
Rarely has a mandolin been played machine gun-style in the pose that dear old Lemmy used to favour. The absurd Expedition on Heavy Submarine and suitably incendiary Sulfur are highlights, and Mr. Wolfbeard even cajoles the crowd into hearty audience participation during When I Sail’d.
Next up are Rumahoy, fronted by the imposing figure of Captain Yarrface. This lot choose to remain anonymous behind balaclavas, and perhaps for good reason because their rather plodding second-division yo ho ho-ery wears thin very quickly. Yarrface barks the lyrics while the three-piece band thrash away behind him. But every single melody line is pre-recorded, which feels like a bit of a swizz. Perhaps they could have invited some of the Dread Crew on stage to add a bit of authenticity. Forest Party is as good as they get, and even this sounds like a song Korpiklaani might have rejected for being too banal. They end with the bizarre Euro-disco of Pirateship, which gets the by now inebriated audience bouncing like idiots.
Mind you, Queen’s greatest hits blasted through the PA during the long wait for the headliner gets a far more enthusiastic reception, with the entire room bellowing along to Bohemian Rhapsody and giving it the traditional Wayne’n’Garth during the guitar solo. By now, Alestorm‘s giant inflatable duck has reached full tumescence and is bounced into centre stage position.
One suspects that Bristol’s Chris Bowes never anticipated Alestorm would last so long or grow to be so popular when he founded the band and released their first album ten years ago. Their sole constant member, he’s steered a steady course though occasionally choppy waters to the point where this latest sold-out incarnation of Piratefest – the first to reach Bristol – is pulling audiences that critic-courting ‘credible’ acts can only dream about.
So batten down the hatches as here they come with Keelhauled, Bowes sporting his familiar unlikely kilt’n’keytar combo. Nobody would claim that Alestorm are the world’s greatest heavy metal band, but they certainly know their way around a good tune and few of their contemporaries succeed in putting such big shit-eating grins on punters’ faces for an entire evening. Nor would they introduce a song as being about “drinking beer and shoving an entire pizza up your bumhole”.
Old favourite Nancy the Tavern Wench – the closest Alestorm get to a traditional sea shanty – sees many of the assembled pirates drop to the floor for a rhythmic rowing workout, an audience participation gambit the band stole from Amon Amarth. While musical diversity is not exactly what we’ve come to expect from this lot, Elliot Vernon takes a break from the accordion synth to contribute ‘unclean vocals’ to 1741 (The Battle of Cartagena), which marks an impressive detour into epic death metal territory.
But it’s back to silliness with Hangover. And wouldn’t you just love to know what MOBO-nominated rapper Taio Cruz makes of his song being repurposed as a bounce-along pirate metal anthem? “Has anyone here ever taken a bath?” asks Bowes, causing the audience to fall silent for the first and only time this evening, before revealing that he stole the lyrics to Pegleg Potion from a bottle of Matey bubble bath.
Shoutalong anthem Shipwrecked closes the set, but they make a swift return for Drink, which is probably the perfect four-minute distillation of what Alestorm are about. Wenches & Mead follows, and the audience are so impatient for the splendidly puerile Fucked with an Anchor, which invokes the spirit of the Macc Lads (remember them?), that they start singing it before Bowes can bid us all a middle fingers-aloft, four-letter farewell. Shame the running order made this Piratefest a bit of a shit sandwich, but it’s a safe bet that Alestorm will be headlining an even bigger venue next time round.
All photos by Mike Evans
Our top newsletters emailed directly to you
