Post-Punk Pre-Party

Wild Paths: Day One Evening

Voodoo Daddy's Showroom, London Street

Headliners, The Empty Threats

Definitely an evening for the ear plugs. Three post punk noise bands in a row, poses the old question of how to organise a night's entertainment when the performers are doing much the same thing.

Of the three sets tonight, openers Feasts, were able to offer something substantially different with drums (Ben), guitar and a small keyboard, (Connor).  If you think, White Stripes in reverse, i.e. drums taking the lead, driving the truck with the guitar providing some tonal depth, you will have some idea of the instrumental power and output of these two.  Ben's drumming is quite something to behold. Essentially, this set was a series of amped up drum and percussion solos, never dull, that take the part of the planet's original. primordial musical device to the extremes of its capacity, whilst still remaining inside the boundary of what might be recognisable as music. With rhythms thundering through my gut, the noise waves rippling my clothes, Feasts certainly held my attention and that of the small crowd. 

This first set had been put together with some thought. The numbers clearly evolved in their complexity and richness, although songs is probably too strong a term to describe the addition of shouted phrases, or lone, barked words. My head went somewhere else when the main man, Ben, who was somehow on nuclear drums and lead vocals, clearly piloting the show "The next song is about goblins."  Have these two lads been brought up on Harry Potter and Tolkien? I was musing, as the sense of the vocals was beyond my comprehension. Their delivery was simply another noise hammering into the complex beating and repeated chords and phrases, which combined into something quite stunning.

Feasts: Drumming at the speed of sound,

 moving at the speed of light,

Ben becomes invisible.

By the time the set wrapped up, I admitted to myself that these guys called Feasts were producing something of interest, musically and intellectually.  I have to admire the method, the energy and the output. The attending audience never broke into full dancing, but a certain amount of rhythmic swaying was noticeable.  Women particularly seemed able to pick out undertones in the cascading noise which they found pleasurable enough to move with. Whatever one's opinion of the set, Feasts leave nothing behind when they go on stage.  Every part of the drum kit was battered to its limit. I think I got it by the end of their act: clever, positively different, impressively delivered.

Magnolia jazzing up post-punk

The set change was relatively straight-forward. Removing the drums, a small keyboard and the guitar,  soon enabled another local post-punk combo to plug in, tune up and head out further into the world of musically intended noise generation. Magnolia, another band with origins in the vibrant Norwich music scene, attracted quite a few followers and some of their parents, to this Tuesday night event.  They had enough fans to confect a mosh thingy in a good-natured, considerate manner as the set span out.

There's plenty of people on stage too. Two drummers, (one standing), two guitars, a bass player and a saxophonist, who took the front centre stage position and jiggled about adding visual charm, if you like that kind of thing.  Established and respected around the city, Magnolia dished up a meaty feast of their own. The recipe involves coordinating seriously big hits, (like a hit in Rugby League), of the two drum kits, then away everyone goes together playing their souped-up phrases, repeated licks and chords. It's The

Wall of Sound, but not how Phil Spector did it. It's the Wall of Sound as if curated by Ornette Coleman, pioneer of free jazz improvisation, but possibly without the improvisation bit. 

I tried to imagine how rehearsals would be for this band. Maybe they rehearse like a football team, attackers, defenders and the keepers all doing their drills, before some light team exercises, then an intense, full on session to bring it all together, tackling, unbarred physical contact, winners and losers, before a warm down. Without that, how can Magnolia get to do what they do on stage? Without that, how do their travelling supporters know when to get down and mosh.  Familiarity is clearly at play here, but also humour.  The band leader wryly introduced another song, "It''s like the other songs." He smiled, I grimaced.

Magnolia do their thing. They have people who enjoy their performances. They have fun, Enjoy it until you don't. It's that kind of genre.

The challenge of a three-part night of music from one single genre is providing variety, or increasing the quality, or demonstrating the possible complexity and beauty of a musical style. Feasts to Magnolia was fine. 

Now, think about how it would be to travel from Adelaide, South Australia, go gigging around England, last night in Bristol, then tonight in Norwich. Dis-orientated? That would be a reasonable state of affairs. Well, welcome to the current world of a band from the Southern Hemisphere, The Empty Threats.  Jeepers, they looked out of sorts.

The Empty Threats: What it says on the tin. 

I have got used to seeing fresh-faced, enthusiastic, fun-loving musicians at Voodoo Daddy's Showroom, so I was a bit thrown by a stage full of fully-formed adults. For example, Magnolia's drummer on the side looks like one day he'll be driving a Tesla, telling his private-schooled children, when back home for half-term, that he once played in a band, before he met mummy, whereas the character fronting The Empty Threats, looks like someone who plays Australia Rules Football, but without minding the actual rules. Then to the left, there's the bloke with a moustache straight out of 1970s London Soho, another bearded chap in a long dress, which reminded me of a cassock, as worn by the monks who taught at the school I went to, and a woman on guitar. Other band members were on stage too. 

Appearances, as we all know in Norwich, can be deceptive.  Poor Kev-Not-The-Doorman, was asked by me and at least three others, if it was okay to enter the venue. All he wanted was time to chill before being allowed in himself.  Always keen to be on time and often at the front of the queue, so he can pick the best spot to do his photography, Kev's a classic example of someone who is misread by strangers. He might have the height, hair-style and apparel of a security heavy, but he's just a nice bloke, who looks like that. Well used as we are in Norwich to shopping in charity shops for the latest look in retro-fashion, The Empty Threats have manufactured an op-shop look that blatantly shouts, our clothes are from op shops, (except for the moustached chap). I could spend a lot of time pondering this look. Is it irony? Punk? Art? Probably all three.  Maybe I was misreading the stagewear. 

Enough of this, when you listen to music at home, what the musicians are wearing matters not. So what of the music from this band?

Overall, I felt the night was a little back to front. Feasts were definitely worth seeing. Spectacularly different. Over-powering at times, not unique in their set up, but my experience, taking the format to the musical extreme. In fact, a top act. Magnolia do what Magnolia do, drawing on the sound of The Stooges' amazing second album, Funhouse and a fair bit from the boundary pushing work of John Cale, with that free-style jazz influence I referenced. The Empty Threats were, sadly, more of the same, with more lyrics.

In post-punk, singing isn't really the done thing, but the words still have meaning, angry and angsty, like early punk without the melody. A few tunes in we are introduced to a number about Scott Morrison, the Australian covid-19 equivalent to our own prime clown, the lying, cheating, self-aggrandising PM, Alexander 'BoJo' Johnson. Yes, politics throws up some real charlatans, but unless of world-wide significance, they don't travel far in song, unless universal truths are being revealed, with a memorable hook. I admit, my reserves were running down at this point. I'd heard a multi-instrumental band playing this genre with a sax, just a few minutes previously. The bulk of the audience had stepped outside for nicotine and street air.  As I was advised, after a loud start, the bands were getting a lot louder.  Is it ruder to leave mid-song, or between songs? An angels on pinheads question, admittedly.  I had a bus to catch.

Wild Paths is about to get HOT!! Next up, another  at the wonderful Voodoo Daddy's Showroom, where some of Norwich's finest, Pleasure Inc. step things up to the next level. Tickets here.

Spencer Ide

15th October, 2025