Hot Snakes

Hot Snakes in concert can be quite a bitch to review.

The music this band plays pretty much holds up two fingers to anyone trying to bang out copy about it. It’s fast, loud and brutal and it attracts as many people to it as it drives away. It’s got as much bite as it does sass and if you’re one of the ones lucky enough to “get it” it’s almost impossible to stand still while listening to it. It’s primal rock & roll, bitches.

So how to hell do I tell you about what you missed at the Islington Academy last week without feeling like more of a hack than usual? I could make up some metaphors involving edged weapons to describe the guitar work of John Reis and Rick Froberg, and some bludgeoning similes to express the crashing assault of Gar Wood’s bass and Mario Rubalcaba’s drums. But I'd just come off looking like a Lester Bangs wannabe, and quite frankly, what's the point when I could just repeat what I said about the Camden Underworld gig and be done with it – Hot Snakes kick the shit out nearly every punk rock band you’ll see this year.

The only change was that it was nice to see them in a larger venue than the last time – and if the world’s a smarter place than it looks, the rooms they play at future gigs will continue to grow in size. The only quibble is that it wasn’t as packed out as the last time these boys burned out a London room, though Christ alone knows why. Because when you consider the amount of lukewarm bilge that's played on stage in the name of "punk rock", a Snakes gig comes on like a fire and brimstone preacher extolling some righteous truths to the rabidly faithful.

Only with these boys, you can believe it.