Soeza, BuckyPull The Strings, The Comedy Pub, Bristol

Def Leppard? One-armed drummer? Bollocks to that, Bucky have got a one-handed drummer called Jeff, and he plays his floor-tom with his stump. How fucking rock’n’roll do you want him to be?

You want the British Moldy Peaches? You got it. You want the Violent Femmes to go rockabilly under the watchful eye of the Reverend Horton Heat? You want fries with that? How about a wisecracking duo with a penchant for lo-fi garage-rock and songs about families who build conservatories with their dead children’s trust funds? You want that to eat-in or to go? No matter which way you look at them, Bucky make their own peculiar little corner of the underground a nicer place to be, with a great line in wit and surreal bullshit to boot, as well as presenting the best advertisement for disabilities in rock this side of a wheelchair-bound theremin player.

And just when you’re thinking to yourself ‘how the fuck is anyone going to top that’, Soeza saunter onto the stage, fresh from a week touring around France, and with all credit to Bucky, they sound completely fucking untouchable tonight. Like your favourite hardcore luminaries chewing down on healthy doses of jazz and soul, Soeza cram their widescreen soundscapes into perfectly executed four minute doses of awe-inspiring brilliance which leave you wondering how the likes of Fugazi have remained so creatively limited over the last decade, as Bristol’s finest purveyors of post-hardcore grooves pull out all the stops.

No matter which way you turn, their songs are loaded with hooks just waiting to drag you into their world. The bass and twin drum backing hold down the beats while the guitars bring such a surging momentum that Aaron Dewey and Daniel Cornfield’s horns rise up and leave you captivated by their breathless eloquence, unable to escape their clutches. Within minutes, you’re utterly lost in their rhythms, and it’s like love at first sight. Not that nice, cuddly lovey-dovey bollocks, but the full-blown desire verging on obsession, daytimes stalking, and night-times hiding in the bushes, stealing pants from the washing-line, headfuck lust that you can’t help but give in to. It’s time to give in to their charms, cos once you’ve let them into your world, you just ain’t gonna be able to live without Soeza, baby, so you’d better get used to it.