Live Review: Buried Feather, Baptism Of Uzi

The promise of a free 7” from Buried Feather gets this scribe through the Old Bar door early tonight but it is Baptism Of Uzi who are on first. The keyboardist seems to take up the majority of the stage with his set-up but the band look relatively comfortable squeezing their big sound onto the small stage. They never really hit top gear tonight, but still produce an enjoyable set with passages flowing expertly into one another. Their set doesn't wander into the experimental, which is where Baptism Of Uzi really come into their own. In any case, the long, prog-rock songs impress the crowd. The band seem keen to get out of the way and enjoy Buried Feather, unplugging their instruments with minimum fuss before the audience can properly show their appreciation.

The first couple of test images appear on the projection screen backdrop as the boys from Buried Feather assemble on stage. Keyboardist Josh Moult begins to plug in his analogue synth and guitarist Steve McLennan unveils an impressive pedal board. A friend with a video camera captures all this. There is a great deal of photography tonight, most of it directed at the band but quite a few social snaps are taken in the crowd as well. As the first notes ring out, a hired smoke machine exhales a few wispy clouds and the projection begins with a basic symmetrical light show. Add the Old Bar disco ball to the scene and you've got a perfect, low-production rock'n'roll show. Buried Feather lock into their sound early on and the psychedelic rumble is relentless until the end of their set. The rhythm section drives these songs. Simon Little's pared down but effective percussion only gets the addition of a maraca to add some flare. Bassist Jim Grimwade's lines are fluent and melodic. Moult and McLennan are left to add the flourishes and build the texture. The tunes tonight lack some distinction from one another, with McLennan's vocals at times lost within the swirling sounds. This causes the music to be a bit sluggish in some of the slower-tempo moments but these never last long and those in attendance involuntarily move along within the close confines. As the projection advances in complexity, the band hit full stride. An energetic climax towards the end of the set has Moult's shrieking synth hitting us right in the stomach and the front portion of the crowd get their last chance to dance accordingly. Despite some immediate calls for an encore, McLennan shakes his head toward the mixing desk. That's the signal to get out the door quick smart in time to catch the last tram home with psychedelic grooves still running through our heads.