12 London Road
The Spit Shake Sisters first came to this writer’s attention at a One Inch Badge free gig at the Hope last year where they were paired with the fast-rising American garage-poppers Warm Soda. It was the impression of many gathered that night that they considerably outperformed the overseas headline act, going on to make the Brighton Noise writers’ best records of the year for their West Coast U.S.A indebted-garage rock of the Overdope/ Modern Drugs Make Aliens single.
Live they are a benevolent but riotous force; whilst they can be anything from a three to a five-piece the anchor is always the talented, booming and bouncing rhythm section of bassist Sister Ben and Sister Zal on drums, laying the foundation for vocalist, guitarist and talisman Harrison to work his magic spells. Harrison’s voice is as delayed and overdriven as his chunky, distorted guitar, leading to a good-time -get the party started’ sound. Always in the red but still making an immediate impression. Songs start with monumental riffs and degenerate into psychedelic, rough and ready garage-rock, noise workouts. On stage, Harrison is one of the finest front-men Brighton has to offer, a showman guitarist, he’s a bundle of youthful energy always seeking to get that little bit more from his crowd. He even looks just a little bit like Ty Segall
They are just starting to get noticed after a frustrating period of line-up change and relative inactivity. Teen Creeps have announced them for their stage at the Camden Crawl and the recently released ‘Jesus was a Homewrecker‘ – a highlight of their live set – is the best thing they’ve committed to tape. This could very well be a big year for them, potentially following the path to bigger and better things carved by The Wytches.
In support, Beatnik Horrors are very promising. Influences seem a little more ‘classic rock’ with more bottom end and a lot less scuzz than the headliners. Their special move appears to be some barnstorming female vocals courtesy of Ari Scott. Have a listen to how she treads the line between sultry crooner and caterwauling superstar with a dexterity belying the band’s relative inexperience.
3 quid in, you really can’t ask for much more.