Rickmansworth ??. Oh, it’s zone 7 on the Met line but well worth the jaunt. I was invited down to a cool little venue there last Saturday (26th May) by my friend Carl Byron Batson who runs the show down there at the Long Island.
Arriving a little late, as I walked in the place was already in full tilt: dry ice, flashing lights, rock and roll mode. I went down really to see to see IzIggy and Some Weird Sinners, billed as Europe’s No 1 Iggy Pop tribute act, a big claim that needed verification.
The venue is a comfortable 200 capacity place but goddamn it if there wasn’t more equipment on stage than I have seen in the HMV Forum on some nights. I was hit straight away by the crisp clean Rock and Roll sound that was The Indegenerates, IzIggy’s support on the said night.
Exciting, edgy, fresh and musically very tight, The Indegenerates caned it. On top of their sound, these guys looked young and hungry. Local to Hertfordshire, the little four piece must have a combined age of, well, less than Iggy Pop or John Lydon anyway.
The first thing that smashed me in the head was the stage presence of the Bass player, Megan Impey. She was really motoring, and driving that bass like it was a GT 500 Mustang with one of those nitrous injection features you get in video games and cars with more plastic bodykit than Robocop.
With bandmates Rob Fenemore on guitar, Kieran Storrie on drums and Murray Dougall on vocals/guitar sharing the ride, they worked so well together it was hard to believe they had barely reached puberty. Sweat and sebum, hormones and hairgel – it never gets old. If you like great new fresh rock and roll played by the people who should be playing it, then seek out The Indegenerates.
There was an interval between bands and so I indulged in some very-well priced Tasty Beverages from the bar. Zone 7 economics. Mr B entertained on the decks with some classic tunes until the lights faded, the dry ice was pumped, and an introduction was made for The Weird Sinners and their leader…… IzIggy.
The sound these guys generated was incredible. Don’t expect some second rate, half baked tribute show here. There were toms, bongos, keyboards, drums and guitars strewn all over the place. It really was a SHOW. Guitarist Robin Mitchard shredded it from start to finish, percussionist Jon Coleman paradiddled as flames flew from his fingertips, drummer Zac Blackwell drove the kit like a herd of Pamplona bulls and keyboardist Michael Fowler was so dextrous he became invisible at certain times during the performance.
That just leaves the main man, IzIggy himself. This guy has the look, he’s got the sound and if he just pushed that little bit harder he’d have the full package. Fnarr, fnarr. I’ve seen Iggy on stage and I’ve seen Iggy off stage, and on stage it’s like being hit with a lightning bolt to the brain (as I mentioned to someone whilst performing lurid sexual acts after the show. Well, lurid sexual acts that leave the mouth free to talk about Iggy, at any rate). That’s all that was lacking, just the sheer fucking madness of Jim. That will come.
I’m not saying cut open your chest with a broken glass or anything. Actually I am, I’d really like to see that.
IzIggy and Some Weird Singers played a 30 / 40 minute set and left the stage drenched in sweat and blood. BB played on the decks again and I assumed that was it, but no. Fuck my old boots if after 30 minutes IzIggy and crew came back on, more dry ice was pumped, and they played another whole set. Every Iggy track you could want to hear, from ‘Lust For Life’ to ‘Skull Ring’ was played. I particularly enjoyed ‘Nightclubbing’, they did that too.
See ‘em. You get a huge great big bang for your buck. I did.
I was also told that they properly trashed the Dressing Room. Rock and Roll.
Photos: Carl Byron Batson
Photographer, published poet, former party animal, body builder, grave robber
to the stars and renowned chainsaw juggler, Carl can often be spotted on his
Harley Davidson pretending to be in Terminator 2. He is also frequently seen in
the press pits of old London town, camera in hand, avoiding being hit by bottles
of wee and crippling his opposition with secret Kung Fu moves.
