Gig Review: Hey Hey It’s a Cartwheel Day

Brakes, Brighton Komedia, 9 November 2009

I've come to a conclusion. These things take time. Propagation began in 1994, as a knee slammed into my face. My only ever nose bleed followed. It was Brixton Academy. I hate that venue.

Overweight thirty somethings are dangerous to mosh with.

If you've never been in a mosh pit, it's impossible to imagine the camaraderie that can come from bouncing against your fellow human, being propped up - as your feet lose their sense of purpose - and swiftly up righted - before injury - when you hit the floor. It can leave you grinning from ear to ear.

Some mosh pits are not like this. They contain drunken, older people who are overconfident and overweight. When the plump and slightly bald fight for lost youth and freedom, a featherweight like me doesn't stand a chance. It's everyone for themselves. Gone is the solidarity that makes the young indie mosh pit so charming.

In 1994, as I cautiously bounced at the edge of an unruly, somewhat scary crowd, a thirty something heavyweight charged through the standing, not bouncing throng, to find me. From behind, he knocked me to the ground, then kneed me in the face. Hard. Bam. No sorry. No outreached arm. I attempted to get up. He kicked me back down again. Deliberately. His body stayed put. His legs and arms thumped in a furious stamping march. Giant legs and giant knees. He's probably dead now.

Me and my bloody face escaped. I timed the rise, to avoid a knee, fearing a hat trick, but knowing it was better to get out than stay. I passed 100 people or more. Not one person said 'You okay?' Not even the man who slept in the room next to me, my friend. I walked straight past him. He just looked at the blood. My hand went up to my nose. A toilet would tell me 'broken' / 'not broken'.

Toilet. Just blood and pain. Relief. Not broken. A couple of girls, bored by the band and hiding, fed me weak lager, amused by my 'What the fuck. Yes, I think I will knock back your pint, attitude'. I don't get nose bleeds. The audacity of it. The girls were in a band called Lush. They were lovely. The act that night was called Sugar. I never liked them, and never listened to them again. They were far from sweet.

Bob Mould is playing Brighton this December. He was in Hüsker Dü too. Unfortunately, his fan base and he are attached in my mind.

It took me a couple of years to go back into a mosh pit of any kind. Don't worry, Half Man Half Biscuit won me back. They are my mosh pit saviours. I bounce, with protective arms, at their altar.

This was a gig review from this year wasn't it? Brakes. OKAY!

The first time I saw Brakes was at Truck Festival in 2006. They were absolutely magnificent. They stole the Main Stage. I'd like to think they took it home. The album forecast was wrong and, appropriately, I was wowed. The crowd got up. The crowd jumped and flailed. Faces filled with delight. Later, the merch stand swam in teenage converts. Like a Mrs Robinson-esque paedophile, I stayed - momentarily - then doggy paddled away. I'm no Mrs Robinson.

If you don't know it, Brakes are a Brighton super group, comprised of members of British Sea Power, Tenderfoot and Electric Soft Parade. Brakes have a unique sound that's all their own. New album 'Touchdown' gets the thumbs up from me. It slips into ballsy rock from time to time, but it's certainly their best yet. Brakes have found melody and their oddly anarchic indie pop is all the better for it. Why Tell the Truth (When it's Easier to Lie) is a treat and a half.

The Komedia set, last week, took us on a stomping journey. It featured achingly delicate interludes and boasted a country-dance tune to boot. Tom's imitation of Eddie Argos with 'Take it away Art Brut' was an apt and charming touch. A nod to a band, that also shines brighter on stage.

The mosh pit was encouraged. Unfortunately, near me, it was the ageing heavy weight kind. I found myself slammed into a low standing monitor, despite trying to stay clear of the bulky bouncing mass. I need to get fat. It helps with the argy bargy.

Ahhh. The mosh pit. It's all in the name of fun.

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Download MP3: Brakes – Hey Hey (courtesy of media.pitch.com)