Like Christmas, Satan’s Buttcheeks appear but once a year and like moths drawn to a UV painted glowing appendage the crowd assembled at The Nest, to “Get weird” as the lyrics of the opening song go, with a band who jokingly, but some would argue deservingly, call themselves “Bath’s ‘Greatest ever band'”.
This was a one off gig at The Nest, not part of their usual weekly schedule and full credit to them for booking a band who rehearse once a year, seldom have the same line up, stick their lyrics to the lighting rig, come with NO support acts and have a rider of chicken breasts, whiskey and tabasco sauce. It was a gamble on their part and one that paid off, because there is no better way to describe this band other than, awesome!
If you’re expecting poetry exploring the nature of being then you’re going to be disappointed. “Breath in, breath out, eyes front, balls out!” that’s the level we’re at. However, when compared to James Arthur’s cryptic love yodeling, “I held your hair back when you were throwing up” Satan’s Buttcheeks can be considered veritable laureates.
It was clear what type of gigs this was going to be as audience members started to cheer while the band, though obscured by a curtain, took to the stage. “Buttcheeks!”, “Whoop, whoop!” “You suck!” were the calls; showing there was to be a definite degree of in-joking and audience participation.
Whether on purpose or accident the farce began immediately as “Balls Out” started, then crumbled as various members of the band came in at different points, then stopped; and then started again, paused; and then carried on as if nothing had happened. Whether this was accidental, due to the aforementioned one day of rehearsal or intentional to add to what is a chaotic mass of day-glow shenanigans the crowd loved it.
However ludicrous they may seem their music is astonishingly good with ear-bending guitar solos, complex song structures and dynamic and progressive melodies which build up to earth-shattering crescendos, with added penny whistle. Whatever weird voodoo they’re transmitting, it seems to be working as the audience threw themselves about in euphoric adulation.
At one point, the band attempted a vocal harmony… The least said about that the better.
With names like “Satan is my osteopath”, “I am ham”, “Rot in Pieces” and “Rambo McMango chutney” their songs could be likened to pre-pubescent school yard limericks, however they clearly weren’t written to be analyzed by literary scholars, so who cares?
But that’s enough generalization, lets get personal.
The lead vocalist, Alex Good, while not demonstrating a fantastic range is a great front man and will happily play the ring leader when it comes to peer-pressuring audience members into performing acts of a questionable hygienic nature. (I’m just going to leave that for you to wonder about)
Next up, the lead guitarist, Oli Fenton, whose guitar work is extraordinary. Many of Bath’s music adoring public will have seen him performing his magic in other outfits, such as: Thousand Monkeys and The Guitarlai Lamas, but none of those acts compare to the ferociousness of his finger-play when soloing during the song “Put it in your mouth”. Don’t believe me? Listen to it here from 1:25 – 1:45. It could very well make you appreciate having ears more than you ever thought possible.
Oli’s grandstanding is only made possible by the solid lump of muscular rhythm that is Dan Gildersleeve who is as staunch in appearance as he is in his underpinning of the songs. Though it has been said he can benchpress anyone and for years the band have been threatening to have him do it on stage, yet again the audience were not to witness the feat.
Since the departure of Ben Butcher, one of the founding members of the band, who went to Sydney to scare patients of ERs by greeting them with the line “Hello, I’m Dr Butcher”, there have been a number of bassists who have donned the war paint and stepped in to the UV light of a Buttcheeks gig. All credit to Dan Spink, who learned a full set with only one rehearsal.
Finally, Ross “The Boss” Brown, who though difficult to see, thundered away at the drums from the dark at the rear of the stage, supplying the explosive percussion that topped off what cannot be denied as being the most interesting, exciting and fun gig of the year.
It’s a pity they only come once a year, but maybe that’s what makes it so special and also how they always manage to pack out whichever venue they perform in. They named the gig ‘The curtain call’, hinting that after a decade and nearly 13 gigs, they might be calling an end to the band, but we certainly hope not as nowhere near enough people have experienced the beauty and glory of Satan’s Buttcheeks.
Written by @LordSkitch
Reviewed on 3rd December 2016
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