Fireapple Red with Weightloss, Alfy and Letdown.

(Flyer for this gig) - Designed by Calvin Roffy

When told ‘Fireapple Red’ were playing in Esquires that night (a band I’d only vaguely heard of from friends who’d seen them on the Concrete Jungle stage at Reading) and that I had to come. Reluctant at first, she convinced me to shell out the £5 I didn’t have to go to the Thirst Club’s ‘Kerrap Night’, but to my delight it truly was anything but ‘Kerrap’. Around 8:30 we headed up the stairs, I said I’d come to see Let Down to the man at the door (who I chose as they had the most suitably indy name) and entered the smoky dank that is Esquires.

Letdown from Cambridge opened, which I was quite glad about, being the band that I liked the sound of most, though instead of the maudlin tones of a self absorbed skinny emo boy that I had been hoping for, what I got was surprisingly more upbeat, it was the kind of emo-rage bands like the Lost Prophets have and bands like Hundred Reasons wished they had, which was just as good if not better. “Everyday how can we be free, when there’s nothing to live for?” Rogers intones the opening lines to “War Of Words” to a bouncy crowd, the little section wearing Let Down T-shirts really getting into it. For the opening band they had a surprisingly tight set and their experience shined brightly through, I really liked the use of vocals, which has been honed to perfection by there last song, “Your Deception”; frantically the two guitarists roared out the chorus between them, which although indecipherable was very powerful, this was probably my favourite song for that reason and a great song to end with. Maybe to lyrically dependent for an Esquires crowd, and though there was a lack of showmanship maybe they didn’t need it. All the instruments worked really well together which was a strength, but they didn’t seemed to give any one thing a chance to shine through, and though I loved the lyrics, they could have made more time for the music, especially for a gig like Esquires. The fact the bassist was wearing a Tweetie-Pie necklace and the Lead had a Winnie-the-Pooh sticker on his guitar was also a definite plus for me. I’ll definitely have to see about getting the demo. You can get them at www.letdown.tk.

Next up were mohican styled and hoody wearing, Alfy (yes with a ‘y’), they all looked wild and they all looked happy to be there. I sensed that technically this wasn’t going to be my kind of music, and I was right, but hot damn, they were just what the fire-starting doctor had ordered. Following the leads lead this was really music to be bruised to, and for a while I was being so, before just standing back and watching Rich and the crowd go. Jerky and wild eyed, every movement he made was a struggle to contain an overwhelming energy, you could tell he just wanted to be that thrashing bass line. “It’s called bullying” Rich yells whilst trying to incite violence in the pit “and we like it a lot!” With a very cathartic rage that they brought everyone along for, I really hoped that there refreshing love for the anger of rock wasn’t drug fuelled, and it was just the music that did that to them. However this was probably not the case as in a truly immense finale, Rich jumped up onto the bar in a frenzy, still strumming, barged into the pit, finished a truly untamed melody, before collapsing onto the dance floor and hurling his guts up. Though I wondered what god could have possibly premeditated such a divine piece of rock art, I realised that not even a god could have made it that perfect. Looking slightly sheepish, but still wild he told me afterward that it sucked as he’d hurled on the neck of his guitar, but the fact the bouncer who’d given him grief beforehand had had to sand it over had made it worth while, he also told me that he normally only gets phlegmy when over excited, but he’d eaten before hand so it came up, as he put it, surprisingly chunky. Nice, but at least then maybe it wasn’t so drug fuelled.
However, although the instruments were played with zeal (to say the least) the set wasn’t as tight as it could have been, but no one cared. I enjoyed the slightly more melodic Sinatra cover if it was one, and the only real fault I could discern was that some of their set sounded somewhat similar. However the night just wouldn’t of been as good without them. Oh and Ant, Viva le Raa-Pay.

Intrigued by the sight of anything vaguely woodwind or brass I got to the front for Weightloss, the leaflet I had just picked up proclaimed there sound to be “‘funky slap bass and drug addled ska’ not appreciated by elitist idiots who don’t believe in pushing the limits.” This however confused me, people sometimes call me an indy elitist (which I only wish I was), because I can not stand The Streets, according to my friend being an elite means having to like Belle and Sebastian, which really, I don’t, but at any rate the whole pushing limits thing got to me, so I may have gone into there set slightly biased. However when they came on laughing, singing along to the backing track while setting up, and then when performing you really got a sense of how much they enjoyed playing together, it was all pretty relaxed, upbeat and friendly. Then this guy just turned to me a said “are we gonna dance?” So we did, pretty jazzy I thought while trying to do some kind of skank, and the whole pit was fairly thronging. Although the set was real loose like, I thought it all came together pretty well, for which I think the drummer should be applauded. Soon figured why they were called ‘Weightloss’ as they were all dancing madly, and the two guys on trumpet and sax (forming the ska section) positively made me smile, they didn’t do anything amazingly complex but it was all-good and for the most part fitted in well; although some bits just didn’t sound right. Every instrument had its chance to shine which was good and surprisingly the only thing I can’t really remember are the vocals. However it did all sound pretty similar and I really don’t think any limits were pushed, but that might just be my elitist side shining through. They got the crowd pretty psyched though and I must thank them for reminding me of the good old days of the ‘Reel Big Fish’ and ‘Less Than Jake’ from when I was younger.

Then strolling on come ‘Fireapple Red’, Tarek has his hair in his eyes; the bassist looks solemn with his five string and plugs in his ears. And then they start, almost like an earthquake, it just tremors at first, nothing special I say to myself, but then they really get into it and its pretty damn awesome. There good-natured rage, heavy melodies and excellent lyrics, make them perfect for listening and moving to, so most of the time I was in a crisis over which to do. Their politically animated lyrics really needed attention and I felt it was shame they were pretty unhearable (yeah that’s not a real word). However there total energy made up for this and the way Tarek jumped around the stage as if he’d been in the desert for 40 days and nights really got to me, at one point he sang right into the face of my friend next to me, trying to imprint his message straight onto her soul, then twice he jumped onto the bar, hair in his eyes, he tilting back his head, grinning maniacally, and screaming “by yourself” whilst almost pulling down the stage lights. I really wish they had fallen down so that the resulting fireworks could have accompanied the euphoric phonics they were pumping out. I swear if I was Kuerouac’s Sal Paradise, he would be the rock Moriarty. As you can tell I really dug them, but then again I may be easily impressed, it really was one of those Saturday night dingy divine moments you have to be there for. I can’t really think of anything to fault them on except for the fact the bassist didn’t crack a smile all the way through the set. It really was a high quality performance by the great up-and-almost arrived socio-political punk rock band that they are. Really worth checking out and you can at www.fireapplered.com.

Review by Jon – crazy_crap29@hotmail.com