Live Review: The Barons Of Tang, The Crooked Fiddle Band, The Quarry Mountain Dead Rats, BJ Morriszonkle

The night begins with BJ Morriszonkle. This music harks back to the elegance and smoothness of the black-and-white film era with the majority of these songs falling into the waltz or ragtime categories. However, the audience is shocked on occasion with some short-lived, ferocious forays.

Five-piece bluegrass outfit Quarry Mountain Dead Rats are a funny choice of support as their style is anything but gypsy/circus-inspired. The band's songs are designed to make people bop in 4/4 time like the sole frizzy-haired dancer enjoying all the space at front of stage. Their music toes the line perfectly between folk and rock. Additionally, the novelty of a dedicated washboard player doesn't wear thin.

Co-headline act The Crooked Fiddle Band launch their new album Moving Pieces Of The Sea this evening. Jess Randalls' quiver, to house her multiple violin bows, gives the impression that they may all have met at a Lord Of The Rings convention. When percussion player Joe Gould asks the audience to bunch up so he can take a photo for his mum, we get the impression that maybe these guys aren't in the music business for the street cred. This doesn't matter, however, as they're all fantastic musicians combining a plethora of genres and musical instruments (Randall alternates between playing violin and Nykelharpa throughout) to create intense, appealing music.

The Barons Of Tang take the stage in all their eclectic, fully formed splendour to launch Into The Mouths Of Hungry Giants, their first full-length album. The band light up the room with a thrashing, carnivalesque set that mixes influences from tango to punk to rockabilly. The small crowd revel in this opportunity to have room to dance and lead singer Julian Cue lasts a whole two songs before removing his shirt. While there really isn't enough people to crowd-surf it doesn't stop five punters taking it in turns to lift each other up and run around the room carrying whose ever turn it is to be on top. The Dogs Of Rotterdam is the set highlight and gives percussionist Annie Pffeiffer the opportunity to show off her voice while the crowd (and band) indulge in about 40 seconds of non-stop howling. The Barons continue to demonstrate that they still have the energy and drive to keep that gypsy-deathcore torch burning bright.