Dogbones are one compelling live prospect. Enough that having seen them just the once before, a matter of weeks ago, I found myself taking a day off and spending 12 hours travelling to see a 53 minute set, considering it a very decent return on investment. This is pure punk, or at least what passes for it in 2011. Front woman Nomi Leonard slouches on, carelessly discarding a forlorn naked dolly and a My Little Pony onto the stage. Later, the pony will have the honour of being used as a drum banging implement by Ms Leonard but for the moment they are abandoned to their fate amongst effects pedals and beer cans. The band themselves are animal instinctive in the room. Of course it’s not just Nomi. The engine room is worthy of note, two drummers, tympani even, poundingly totemic in effect. Johnny Orion’s guitar growls like the pit lane at the Indy 500 and he has his own moment on the mic, when he’s not too busy combing that ridiculous barnet on stage, or doing Hendrix guitar-behind-head impressions. The band are a tight and cohesive unit, it’d be easy to imagine that the boys are mere background for Nomi’s dramatics but there’s a lot of craft carefully hidden here, it’s finely tuned in the same way that a scud missile is finely tuned. A word about the atmosphere of the night. It’s Hoxton on a Friday night and the beer is five pounds a tinny. I’ve been here a hundred times but tonight, the crowd are….odd. I realise this is pot kettle black time, but the whole front of the stage is clarted up with middle aged photographer blokes, it’s as though a camera club night class is having an field trip. Maybe Nomi’s rep for occasionally getting her kit off is the cause. It’s about time they started imposing the same rules in camera friendly venues like Cargo that they do in the places with photo-pits. Have your fun boys and girls for three songs and then either put the damn things down or clear off to one side. I’d be totally up for that. In fact, next time push me out of the way. Nomi’s answer is to get down off the stage and break through to the girls dancing wildly behind the togs. They’re spinning round wildly and Nomi speeds them up like a kid pushing a roundabout. When she climbs back up, it is to some sort of yoga pose, feet on the monitor wedges until she pushes over into a splayed out forward roll. Beer is offered from the crowd and consumed, apart from what she keeps in her cheeks, pouched up then spat back over the very fan that gave her the beer in the first place, some sort of symbolic anointment. He doesn’t mind, au contraire he loves it. The sound out of this lot is guttural, brash and brittle at times. Glam-punk makes it sound too friendly, there might even be riot grrrl politics hidden in there somewhere. It’s hugely genuine, authentic, cathartic; this is no put on act. The comparison to the fawning, posing support act that I don’t care to name is astounding. But it’s all over too quickly. After some arsing about earlier, they got their stage time changed. The band came on at precisely their allocated 9.30pm. 53 minutes later and they haven’t even got to the last song on their set list. They pause for breath after Goodbye Miss Jane and we can see Nomi hammering the guitar and nothing happens. Johnny is on the mic and the same is going on there. Nomi even goes head to the amps and then we all realise at the same time – they’ve put the lights up, pulled the plug on a band in full 110% flight and switched the bastard disco on. The issue, it turns out, is that the venue turns into a club night at 10.30pm and there’s a whole new set of punters waiting to be relieved of a tenner to get in and a fiver a drink. I would like to see that particular house manager organise a piss-up in a brewery, I’m angry on behalf of the band. They show it in their own way. Both drummers walk off, Nomi crashes Johnny’s guitar through the cymbals before ripping off her shoes and hurling over the heads of the crowd in the vague direction of the mixing desk. Ah well, they calm down quick enough, so we stick around for a quick chat with the band and London friends before gritting our teeth for that long drive north. Next time, next time…
Edit – I’ve just been informed that I got my facts wrong here, that in fact the plug was pulled at 22.02. My apologies, and thanks to Robert G for pointing this out. Turns out my camera’s internal clock is a trifle wonky – doh! Which means that in the event, we got something like a half hour set. Which was still worth the drive. And as a result of all this, Monto have decided to make amends, so expect some news from Nomi and the guys about another gig in the new year.
…and I’ve just had the following response and update from the band… The Dogbones “Yup They screwed us. Bad vibes all round…there was alot of stuff goin on that night but the person responsable…is now no longer employed… also by means of an appology from the promoter we have free run of a water rats night on the 26th Jan…I get to pick the bill and the door deal will be way better… so come down to that and it’ll be a much much better night :)”
Click here for the whole set of photos on Flickr http://www.flickr.com/photos/catshoe/sets/72157628129006500/
