Live Review: Kong @ Islington Mill

Date: 12th May 2011

Northern England has unearthed some pretty gruesome scenes throughout its lengthy musical past, but it has to be noted that Kong tend to fly the gritty, titty, British flag better than the majority of their peers. Plus, they effortlessly mix underground riffs and alcohol poisoning really well. Not that that's an essential combination, but for entertainment and anti-health purposes, it works well.

If you are still unfamiliar with Kong, perhaps the best way to introduce them in 2011 is by revealing that they started the year by getting chased out of Japan. It wasn't the plastic, acid dipped clown face masks that did it (though they probably didn't help), but rather, the being too drunk to realise when the local mafia don't appreciate excessively weird western men borrowing their mopeds. Still, if anyone could survive that...

Fast-forward four months and tonight they're in Salford, opening for Fucked Up - one of the most relentless, multi-dimensional bands in active existence. After demands of 40% liquor start tonight's proceedings, spat out from behind the shadow-stealing faces, we hear the likes of 'Rat Lab', recent addition 'Ribbons' (this song will never have the ability to make your hair look pretty), classic regurgitation 'Leather Penny', the sickening sirens of 'Wet Your Knives' and the compelling, tortured drones of 'Sport'.

Before most of that happens though, lead dementer Magpie sees fit - or rather, has a fit -  to break his amp. And it just happens to be a Marshall slp Plexi, 100 watt; the very sodding system which let rock music ignite in the 1960's. He didn't do it on purpose, he just really is that fucking loud. Consistently semi-naked bassist Lulu and freakishly talented hitter-of-things, Krem, continue to spray the kind of volatile sweat situation upon us that some weirdos probably pay for. Maybe somewhere in Japan.

Demanding whiskey and blowing up expensive equipment may initially look like an easy way gather public interest in your disorderly conduct conviction, kids, but you've been mislead by hopeful imagination. You could indeed become a shitty mall Santa, a post Bargain Booze robbery fugitive, but there's a slim-to-none chance that you'll ever (literally) possess all the elements of uncensored genius that make a band like Kong work and remain mostly unsupervised when they leave the stage. Soak it up. Appreciate it!

Aggressive? Potentially, but macho, surely not. So consumed is their world by a sinister dribble of dark, marvellously menacing humour, that when they make your heart stop via a clogged vein/bone rattling indigestion combo, it's because they are one of the few British bands to seriously grip the pulse within a niche of psych punk romantics. The kind of crowd who, above anything else on any given Thursday, adore losing themselves to a moment in which regular thoughts fast become blacker than tarred cowboy lungs. If you can't get on board the Kong trip, there's really no need to pity the mental balance of its makers; 'cause they'll simply pour you over chipped ice before rapidly burping you out.

Words: KM

Kong: Blood Of A Dove

Upcoming appearances:

2000Trees Festival - 15 July - Cheltenham
Firebug  - 17 July  - Leicester

Find out more about Kong at their Skiddle artist page here.