Blowgoat - Self-Titled EP Review

This is party-music, and the band are more than happy to admit that – and why shouldn’t they? As they’ve said, ‘We rip off The Bronx and Every Time I Die and get fucked up while we do it.’ Awesome. These guys feel like my brothers already.

By Rhys Milsom / May 23, 2012

rating: 4

Website Facebook Released: 16th April

Blowgoat hail from the lovely city of Newport in South Wales. That is, lovely if youre there anytime before 6 oclock after that it gets a bit like Gotham City with all the ghouls, maniacs and drug-thirsty youth prowling the kerbs. Not to mention, of course, the drunks who think theyre Batman, saving young women from the greedy clutches of rapists (who are actually the boyfriends/one-night-stand of the women in question) and therefore, making the world a better place. Yeah, right. Before you think Im some judgemental, up-his-own-arse guy whos just bad-mouthing Newport on the basis of one night out there, think again. I live about twenty minutes away from Newport and the place is just like any other city youll go to - shit. The bad-points are so much better to write about than the good points; if Blowgoat were from Cardiff Id bad-mouth Cardiff; if they were from Sheffield Id kick the fuck out of Sheffield and so forth etc etc. Could go on for ages. Anyway, I thought it best to go straight into putting you off ever going to Newport because the place is the best thing to compare Blowgoats sound to. The riffs are as furious as that guy whos kicking off because hes still banned from the club where all his mates are at; the vocals are as abrasive and as knowing as that old guy with the work-worn hands sipping a bitter at the bar in Wetherspoons; the drums chatter and finally wear you down as much as the kids on Mcat fidgeting in their newly-found-freedom in their student accommodation. All this combines for a sound that is filthy, immediate and just makes you want to grab a bottle of beer, smash it, and dance on the shards. Just because you can. It also makes your chin itch for a beard down to your knees. This is party-music, and the band are more than happy to admit that and why shouldnt they? As theyve said, We rip off The Bronx and Every Time I Die and get fucked up while we do it. Awesome. These guys feel like my brothers already. The EP opens with Slackhole. A Southern redneck-tinged riff starts the party, and its soon joined by rolling drums which flatten out and stamp all over you throughout the track. The vocals of Paul Davies sound like Keith Buckley (ETID), Matt Caughthran (The Bronx) and Damien Abraham (Fucked Up) arguing over a booze-fuelled 3am game of poker and Davies really does grab you by the throat and plunge you into Blowgoats anarchistic, whatever-goes attitude that permeates the whole of this EP. http://youtu.be/U3vei-wOQ2Y Yo BitchIm Tom Waits is a personal favourite. It explodes with a rising riff which chugs and soars before kicking you in the balls and leaves you reeling as Davies spits and snarls his lyrics at you. The track just makes you want to go to the seediest strip-club you can find and start a brawl while the strippers are polishing the poles clean with their long, beautiful legs. The middle-eight is almost impossible not to move to and it brings to mind the best moments of ETIDs New Junk Aesthetic like Host Disorder. http://youtu.be/Id5e88k3GxM The EP ends with the awesomely named Misery Hammer. Its a great way to end the party as it doesnt really end it it prowls around your ears like some hungry panther and forces your finger to start the whole EP again. The roving bass-line rumbles across Davies vocals while the riff hazily rises before swilling some whisky down its neck and waking up; the drums smash their way through the track, leaving you with an image of the drummer, Tom Conway, exhausted and sopping in sweat. The lyrics of Id like to start a fire, Id love to see you burn linger in your mind long after the tracks finished and the connotations of those lyrics sum up the feel of the EP perfectly. Blowgoat have an EP here thats a great way to shake off a moody hangover and it makes you want to grab a beer again and just punch a little kid in the face. Im seeing them in July Ill be the guy banging my head to every riff who looks a little bit like a lunatic.