Mountain Men Anonymous

At first glance, Project Abner stick out like a sore thumb on this bill. Playing alongside shoegazing art thunderers Redjetson and the self-consuming instrumental noooiiiise of Mountain Men Anonymous, their clownish demeanor seems distinctly cartoonish. This isn't dumb-by-numbers ska-punk however. They appear to be pretty nervous, and betray this via the banter between the songs but nonetheless, like all the bands on this bill, Project Abner are immersed in ideas. They tug in every direction at once; each song actually sounds like five different songs, shredded and spliced together in a seemingly haphazard manner. It doesn't always work, but when it does, it's exhilarating - a headrush of dizzying noise, anchored by riffs that break the landspeed record and a System Of A Down approach to songwriting - i.e. if at first you can't choose between several sounds, chuck 'em all in and make them LOUD.

Redjetson are the musical opposite. Slow, mesmerising and insistent, they take themselves very, very seriously. When they sound like this, you can't blame them - in time, they won't be the only ones. They take Joy Division's suffocating atmospherics and Six By Seven's ethic of taking one huge, vicious sound and repeating it ad infinitum, adding another element every few bars, until it looms above you threateningly like an unfed Komodo dragon. It's the guitars that hold your attention; loaded with volume and reverb, they knock a route the size of the Newbury Bypass through your forehead before they even reach their crescendo. It's nothing that hasn't been done before [coughMogwaicough], but when your audience are hypnotised and swaying unsteadily to the poisonous rhythms you've injected straight into their vena cavas, who cares? Extremely promising.

Mountain Men Anonymous have the same towering (yet whilst sat firmly on their stools - natch) appeal that Redjetson exude, but topped by screeching, screaming feedback and blinding intensity; this is searing rage and vengeful fury, inflicted on three innocent guitars and a much put-upon drumkit. They play only three or four songs...and finish twenty-five minutes late. It's pretty astonishing stuff; the complex, layered, eerie machinations of Sigur Ros performed with the sentiment and volume of Trail of Dead's "_Perfect Teenhood_". However something elusive yet vital is missing; while one can't help but admire what MMA do, there's an insurmountable feeling of disconnection; at very few points does it actually draw you in and surround you, as this kind of music really should. The band look pretty absorbed by it, rocking back and forth with gritted teeth as the set reaches its climax, but it's difficult to feel what they're feeling. Ultimately it's smart, remarkable, impressive...but lacking in any emotion that you can connect to.