The Ex and Brass Unbound

Our previous experiences of punk and brass sections haven’t always been happy ones: we’re looking at you, ska punk. The fact that for every James Chance & The Contortions, there’s been a Reel Big Fish, and for every incarnation of The Specials we’ve had to endure Less Than Jake, means that all that glitters and gleams isn’t always gold.

Tonight at The Fleece, we’re due to hear the first date on The Ex’s Brass Unbound tour, in which they recruit four brass players of no little pedigree and then proceed to run through re-arranged selections from their 30-year history, alongside the odd special composition. The silent hope echoing around our brain is that this doesn’t prove to be a hapless venture of botched experimentalism, yet another tombstone in the graveyard dedicated to rock and roll’s association with brass.

But all that’s drowned out by the cacophony of one of Bristol’s most exciting new acts warming up. Zun Zun Egui is a four-piece band with few discernable precedents: they manage to sound like everything and nothing all at once. They’re on rambunctious form tonight, rediscovering some of the loose groove and far out freakiness that made them so alluring and gave them such an impact when we first stumbled upon them last year supporting Chris Corsano and Mick Flower. Lead singer and guitarist Kush barks and yelps and in foreign tongues, his impressive rhythm section holding the fort with glee abandon as he wrenches mangled solos from a beaten up guitar. The overall effect is an intensely driven form of exotic and danceable pyschedelia: something like a street party in Acalpulco soundtracked by the Talking Heads. What makes it all the more surprising is that in a year which is sure to see types such as Yeasayer and Vampire Weekend take their afro-pop to the next level, Zun Zun Egui are yet to be signed.

Thankfully for brass instruments everywhere, The Ex still manage to blow this most capable of support acts clean off the stage. Bands half their age can’t seem to muster up even a fragment of the energy the Dutch veterans are channelling tonight, lead singer and guitarist Arnold De Boer lurching across the tiny stage, jousting with Brit expat Andy Moor. But it’s the tautness that really shocks: even with eight members on stage, on the first night of the tour, playing with four new additions, they still sound unbelievable. Much credit must go to a rhythm section that would leave most bands envious and if there’s a bum note or a dropped beat tonight, it certainly bypasses us.

The horn section, rather than being the bolt-on afterthought that we’d feared, turns out to inject something extra into their sound: witness the mournful mariachi trumpet of show-stealer Roy Paci on a frenetic rendition of personal favourite ‘State of Shock’ and the squealing, yet controlled free-jazz breakdowns of saxophonist Mats Gustafsson at the end of a furiously restrained collaboration. Tonight also showcases the incredible diversity of the band’s 30 years: the striking brass punctuated Balkan folk of ‘Hidegen Fujnak A Szelek’ showcases drummer Katherina’s surprisingly powerful and versatile voice, whilst other tracks bring to mind the angry post-punk explorations of late Fugazi, De Boer howling with barely contained range as the rhythm section grinds and grinds at the basslines until you’re sure they’re set to shatter, all with the horns adding to the potent sense of menace.

Yet it’s the tracks from the collaboration with Ethiopian Saxophonist Getatchew Mekuria which really impress: they ripple with barely disguised energy, the rolling bombast and wild sax soloing of ‘Ethopia Hagere’ generating such a wave of applause that the band return to wow us with the sweaty tropicalia of ‘Theme From Konono’ that leaves the venue in rapture. Brass sections are dead, long live brass sections.