A cold, wet, windy Friday evening in York. Time for the first visit of the year to Fibbers.
Being honest, the first band on did nothing for me. Girls Can’t Dance are from Leeds and billed as “Indie/New Wave/Post Punk”. The vocals reminded me, for some reason I’ve yet to fathom, of the 80s. Perhaps more cruelly, they could also be described as a cross between somebody shouting and a stuck typewriter, as fully half the lyrics seemed to consist of repeated vowel sounds. Oh, oh, ooooh.
Next up were The Layfields. A four-piece from York with two vocalists taking alternate songs. Better than the first band but a bit samey throughout their set, until the last song which was almost completely different in style and excellent. One song, however, does not a set make. The Layfields also had a habit of using repeated vowel sounds, but with less shouting.
Finally, the band we had turned up and paid our £3 to see – The Sneakypeeks. Now, this band sound a lot like Cohesion, the first headline act I saw at Fibbers over a year ago. This would be because they are, in effect, Cohesion reborn as a three-piece, with a name-change to reflect the more fun-filled style of their music. (Apparently, Cohesion does not give the right impression.) Name-change or not, they were brilliant. The set was thrown into a little bit of chaos when drummer Rich was forced into an impromptu solo after lead-guitarist Paul broke two strings during the first song, but the band carried the whole set, which included at least one Cohesion song, off superbly.
One noticeable difference between the Sneakypeaks and the other bands was that the former actually look very professional on stage. Apparently an album is due this year. I’ll be keeping my eyes out for it.
As Fibbers turned itself into a dance club, we wandered round to the Roman Bath to see what we happening there. The Spunksters – a punk covers band from Yorkshire – was what was going on. Punk isn’t my thing. I never got it. The other guys seemed to be enjoying it, though, with one of them treating us to a bit of a pogo dancing. I drank my pint and headed off for the last bus home.