Review: The Bellrays, Exchange

Sometimes you can tell what are a band are gonna be like just from their name, as was the case with Dynamite Pussy Club – no way were they gonna be a fey nu-folk combo but neither were they gonna be a corpse painted black metal band. They stormed through a ten song set of tunes that fitted their moniker like a pair of vintage winklepickers, i.e. garage-punk-psyche-surf riffs delivered at a filthy funky pace. Ed Calvert provided the foundation for the grooves, pounding out complex tribal rhythms that seemed to go through a dozen tempo changes without sacrificing the beat; whilst Chris Mitchard sang and belted out relentless rhythm guitar. This left Danny Le Gulcher to spray non-lead guitar all over the tunes – no foot on the monitor histrionics or grandstanding, just sheets of squally lead; choppy and funky, bringing to mind the best of Andy Gill’s work with Gang of Four.

Testify was a mean aggressive opening cut, and the rest of the set followed suit, two minute flicknife psalms with a psychobilly beat. Boogie Shoes got the crowd grooving but a rather salacious In the Can was the takeaway tune, one of those songs that worms its way in to your head after the first chorus (“If you want a fire, I’ve got the spark… If you want to get higher, I know where to start”). A mid-song snapped string for Gulcher couldn’t stop the show, improvising through the tune before a pit stop to swap guitars. This gave Mitchard chance to reveal the band were playing real West Coast music, “…Yeah, real West Coast… Portishead… Clevedon…not San Francisco…” resulting in much hilarity. It also gave Calvert the opportunity to please a section of the crowd that had been demanding he remove his top, resulting in a round of ironic applause. If you miss the Cramps and want your synapses rearranged garage style then catch Dynamite Pussy Club soon.

The Bellrays opened their set with Black Lightning, revving right up in to fifth gear from a standing start. The outfit really kicked it from the opening chord – a lean, pared down rock n roll sound that distilled the essence of everything that’s vital and exciting about rock, soul and funk delivered song after song; playing as if the world was about to end and only their performance could stave off the apocalypse. Maxi Resni on drums and Pablo Rodas on bass locked in tight; Resni powerful and fluid with Rodas sat in a Stax pocket, underpinning the drums with melodic runs. Bob Vennum played a mean guitar, pealing off riffs with both punk aggression and a classic rock sensibility (but stripped of bluster) punctuating the songs with lean mean solos; no shredding, no showboating just the right number of notes to hit that sweet spot every time. Lisa Kekaula displayed a commanding stage presence, prowling the stage and intermittently committing bodily harm to her tambourine; joining the crowd for a walkabout and reminding us all that “This is a rock show” (as if that was ever in doubt). Her voice more than equalled the sonic fury around her, sure, she has the power but was also able to sing with restraint too: Anymore showcasing the real talent she has as singer – powerful enough to front a full on rock onslaught, subtle enough to carry a bruising soul ballad.

Given that the band currently have a covers EP out, they threw Never Say Die (Sabbaff) and Dream Police (Cheap Trick) in to the mix. The former tune got a punky makeover without sacrificing its thundering riff (and was canny choice too as it would have been easy to select an obvious cut) whilst the latter sounded way more threatening than the original. Their own Everybody Get Up was a mid-set call to arms and summed up the band’s ethos in a tune built to succeed. The band kept up a cracking pace with barely any between song banter and what really struck home throughout the set was the band’s ability to pump out rock you can actually dance too; the perfect blend of Motown groove and Detroit muscle.

Back on for an encore, Vennum cranked out the opening riff to Highway to Hell but an abrupt change of plan resulted in the band pounding the room with a pummelling Blues for Godzilla, wringing the last drops of sweat out of the crowd. A shame not to hear the ‘DC tune, hearing Kekaula belt out the song would be some compensation for even the thought of Axle Rose fronting the band.

After the show the band mentioned they were recording new material and promised to be back in 2017, if they maintain this form then they deserve to be headlining a bigger venue but whatever the room…be there.

All pix by John Morgan