Mind At Large

Far be it for me to be the residual misery guts at this time of year but I’m one of those souls who hates New Year’s Eve – I mean having to stand in queues with pissed up, shaven headed, sports label wearing leery twats shouting abuse at you because your hair might be a bit longer or you’re wearing a t-shirt that says “Pol-y-phon...” and then they give up trying to read it and you finally get through the door of said Yates/Libertys/Chicago Rock Café (insert preferred venue of choice here) only to find yourself surrounded by hundreds of ‘em, jostling with each other for the most undressed girl in the bar and chanting along to a soundtrack of Scooter.

Thank God for Bah Humbug then, cos if it weren’t for the traditional patron saint of despair I’d probably find myself in that queue again tonight, completely oblivious to the fact that less than a ten minute walk from Nottingham city centre one of the most invigorating shows of the year is taking place.

Although headliners Mind At Large aren’t playing for another three hours, Junktion 7 is absolutely buzzing despite the fact opening band Resin sound like a watered down version of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, who are themselves a second rate Faith No More anyway.

The entertainment value perks up during the Tabloids' quirky punk-goes-to-Trumpton set, if only by way of the fact the odd classic pop song (‘Reach Out I’ll Be There’) gets butchered beyond recognition before being spat out and trampled into the floorboards by their unrepentant “singer.” Unfortunately, not everyone found their set amusing, as the bar is now about eight people deep.

Let's rejoice for the mighty Face. So long have this four piece been one of Nottingham's best kept secrets, but now having played a recent showcase gig in Camden and with interest from one or two major labels, it looks like Face could well be the first band since Six By Seven to breakout from beneath Robin Hood's shadow, if you know what I mean. If there is such a thing as the “new rock revolution” (© the NME), then Face are surely part of the old rock resurgence. Singer Andy Shipley plunders the best bits from the Verve's back catalogue before adding a touch of the same Mary Chain-isms that have made the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club so special this year. Add a sturdy rhythm section courtesy of Sean Brooks and Jon Knowles, and you’ve got the most enthralling mixture of lyrical soundscapes since Ashcroft and McCabe spat their collective dummies out and the former decided to ape his grandfather’s country and western records as some act of revenge.

Not that anyone really gives a shit about the ghosts of Wigan past. How could they when you’ve got the likes of Mind At Large to guide the most uncoordinated amongst us into 2003 with a spectacular bang.

If bands were your favourite tipple, then the Stereophonics would be a pint of lager – OK for the first 5 minutes but flat with a sour aftertaste the rest of the time, Travis would be a pint of John Smiths – sturdy and reliable, if unspectacular, whereas Mind At Large are pure Red Bull and vodka – an addictively sweet tasting adrenaline rush that gets better every time.

For a band who’ve been playing the Nottingham circuit for the best part of two years now, it’s quite astonishing that they are still unknown outside these four city walls, especially when the mere mention of their name can fill any venue without having to resort to tasteless marketing procedures. ‘Feeling Good’ is what Oasis would’ve sounded like if Jason Pierce had replaced Bonehead, and ‘Decibel 1000’ is as L-O-U-D as the title suggests. Four chords incessantly repeating over an eerie keyboard sound not too far away from Loop's ‘Burning World’, yet so refreshing when placed alongside everything you’ve heard over the last twelve months (and probably likely to hear over the next twelve too).

‘Nervous Disposition’ is hypnotic trance that doesn’t need some DJ shouting “make some noise!” or a bikini clad girl dancing in a cage to hold your attention, while new song ‘How To Love’ is their best yet – imagine Hawkwind jamming with Ladytron – which suggests that some people actually got the gist of Electroclash as a source of progression rather than an excuse for an eighties nostalgia-fest.

London, you don’t know what you’re missing.