It’s the first Saturday in June, it’s past 11pm in the basement of a pub in Dalston, it’s Fair Ohs’ album launch for a long overdue debut album of tropical punk that’s as summer as Ambre Solaire and burnt sausages – it’s party time alright. After having paid their live dues in seemingly every drinking hole London has to offer, the three local lads can now finally celebrate the release of their self-released debut album. And celebrate they do, egged on by the bouncing mob of friends that have wedged themselves in the space between the microphone stand, a concrete pillar and the bar.
There’s mic-grabbing by overeager punters flying high on Kopparberg, sweat puddles on the floor, and a relentless stream of afro-pop-punk-rock anthems (there really is no other word for them) coming from the three grinning dudes on stage. Eddie Frankel’s guitar has that shimmering, glaring bite to it that makes it cut through the oxygen-free zone that is the crowd, Matt Flag’s bass lines rumble like a volcano about to pop and Joe Ryan’s dunk-a-dunka beat sends everyone into a frenzy whenever it kicks in, which, thankfully, is very often. Between songs they pass around their spoils – a bottle of Jack Daniels.
Highlights of an already euphoric, endorphin-inducing set are the joyous, drunken sea shanty of ‘Baldessari’ and the scuzzy Paul Simon homage ‘Everything is dancing’. But take our word for it: it’s all pretty fucking awesome.
By Matthias Scherer
Originally published in issue 29 (vol 3) of Loud And Quiet. June 2011