By Lloyd Martinez Newkirk
Beer in plastic cups galore, people spilling out onto the pavement. I love that grey area of drinking on the sidewalk. It feels like Stellies, and I never even studied at Stellies. A frat party, or one of those Plumstead house parties back in high school.
I hustle a ride with my good mate David. We travel along the M3, among way too many discourteous, kak, and quite possibly drunk drivers. We arrive on Loop and, as per usual, have to do a few loops around the block just to find parking. CLASSIC Kaapstadt!
David sponsors the first round, a beer special, and our beers are poured into plastic cups, which I suppose is why we are allowed to drink outside “on the street.”
The crowd is millennials and Gen Z, thirty people nestled together, not quite pilchards. People are chilling, jamming, headbanging without going too hard. Doing it in that cool way, keeping something in reserve. There is this perhaps German woman, wearing a sheer black dress, complete with stockings and knee-high boots, standing out among the sea of hipsters, grunge enthusiasts, tropey surfers, hippies, and jocks.
One of The Unknown wears a Nirvana T-shirt, along with an impressive jacket. I ask him whether his Nirvana shirt is vintage, because it looks vintage. He says it isn’t, and then: “I’m not a poser.” I ask, “H&M?”
The Black Nails are phenom. A perfect union of blues and shoegaze, the lead vocalist’s buttery, deep voice carrying the weight of many years of hurt, the female drummer with her insane timing, the bassist slaying groovy basslines, and the lead guitarist giving us Slowdive-esque riffs and solos. The heavily blues-influenced sound, with its grunge undertones and shoegaze, suits the crowd’s chilled energy. Maybe Kaya’s, um, intimacy has something to do with it too. The music has people bopping along without sending the room into a frenzy.
All four are cramped together: Gareth on lead guitar, Damian on vocals and rhythm guitar, Tal on drums and Janco on bass. Janco is a big man who looks like he spent his heyday in the Ukrainian army practising drone warfare, and he barely fits onto this little stage.
The interaction between them is sparse and limited, as is classic with shoegaze bands. I wouldn’t go as far as to say they are stiff and boring, well, not Kings of Leon boring.
The Black Nails sound as if birthed in someone’s garage, their music carrying those echoes of the shoegaze era. The interaction comes from the instruments rather than physically.
Tal, my favourite in the band, leans over her drums. Her posture and the way she plays make her stand out against the rest of the band. Yes, they’re grunge. Yes, they’re shoegaze, and in that little room, I am part of the band, or part of the music itself. Cliché as fuck, but that’s how it feels.
The drummer has a kind of nineties hipster chic look to her and impeccable timing. The lead singer sports a classic grungy look, which only goes further to support his bluesy, amazing deep voice. It sounds as if he is pulling it from the depths of his diaphragm. Or his chest. Wait, is that the same area? I’m not a biologist. But yes, I am a sucker for women in bands. Woe is me.
Beers and margaritas in plastic cups, making conversation while sipping drinks in the grey area that is “plastic cups on the street/pavement is fine”: this is what we need more of. And then The Unknown come on. I watch their first song, but I’m too ADHD to take notes, and David has to leave.
Fuck. I’ve spent all week trying to describe that one song. I have failed. The Unknown remain so.
VIBEZ = IMMACULATE BABES!
EXTRAORDINARILY WRITTEN🔥🔥🔥