Live Review
BITCHES AT THE STAG’S HEAD, DALSTON
Bitches
No Address1
London
25/03/10

“Has anyone here ever pissed on a 14-year old girl?” asks Bitches frontman/bassist Blake. “Well R Kelly did!!!” he yells with you’re-not-my-real-mum petulance. “And this song’s for him!” So there! ‘Can Not Love’ (“I wanna know what can I not love,” the duo yap in Kelly’s perverse direction) is then Bitches at their most brattish, their most basic and, most importantly, their most melodic (save, perhaps, the closing ‘Cholula’). Much like Comanechi’s two-pronged neo-grunge, you can sing-a-long to this fuzzy racket, whether drunk (Blake clearly is), as aggressive as drummer Staz’s shouted co-vocals, or if you’re in the market for some new abrasive yet curiously dappy noise pop. Physically, Blake eclipses his band mate, standing directly in front of her (okay, in the Stag’s Head there is little place else he can stand) and nose to nose with the audience. Between songs he and Staz receive titters from the front row in exchange for on-mic mutters, but all of that is constantly bullied aside by bass feedback that wails like dog in pain – a sound that precedes most songs. There’s certainly times tonight that Bitches’ relentless pace goes beyond attention grabbing and into the realms – somewhat unfeasibly – of background noise (albeit it a very loud one), but for the most part their brash, reckless, confrontational sound is too cavalier to ignore.

By Stuart Stubbs

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Originally published in issue 16 (vol 3) of Loud And Quiet. April 2010