It is very hard to pigeonhole Atlantis Black's music as there doesn't appear to be one theme running throughout their songs; however, their sound could be compared to the best in traditional British rock meeting the laid back tunes of a US road-trip. OK, so I've cut and pasted that sentence from the band's biog, like many other lazy journalists around, for the griping gits amongst you who want to get a "real" idea of the music and not hear my opinion on the subject. Now sod off and go wank over your copy of the NME or paint your room black and stop bothering me.
Because opening song "Don't love you" and later track "End of the day" sounds to me more like Extreme: i.e. the sort of emotion-fuelled stuff they will play to death on your local late-night love programme on all good commercial radio stations. This duo further reminds me of Cambridge's latest protégés, Saint Zoë. Now this is a band that I will tap my toe to, though only in a subdued fashion that may look like I've got an itchy big toe or tourettes or some similar minor affliction. Because, despite their enthusiasm and ability to play, and as much as I like a good portion of cheese on my crackers, they are just ever so slightly cringeworthy. Yes, Atlantis Black have "Shake and roll again" which sounds like "Love in the elevator" by Aerosmith, or something along the lines, and, indeed, these tunes may be large enough to fill a large arena. But then Bon Jovi are playing Wembley when it reopens. To get to the point, there will always be a person that thinks this is classic and, as long as there are lonely housewives weeping into their comfort food, that will see a market for it. That person is unfortunately not me. It was never going to go well with this band though. They have possibly one of the worst lines of a press release I have ever read. "Two guys both just turned 22 with one common interest… music". That might help then. Let's hope so, eh?

VENA CAVA- Yellow Top Theory

This summer I had a scary incident in a Cornish pub masquerading as a dark and dingy nightclub, in which I was stalked by the somewhat large DJ named Terry who, we decided, went home after a days accounting, donned his eyeliner and spiky necklace, listened to some generally bad music and encouraged poor unsuspecting holidaymakers to do the same. He, and his mates down the front, would like Vena Cava. Though, personally, they are not for me, falling somewhere between System of a Down and, through claiming that they also include influences of 80's pop and grunge, the most pretentious hardcore band in the world. Ever.
Because this is essentially just lots of screaming and shouting over raging heavy metal interspersed with the odd slow bit. And I mean lots; opening track "Beneath the pavement, the beach" best displays this, lasting well over five and a half painstaking minutes, over a minute of which is the finale of some of the most self-indulgent guitar work I have ever had the pleasure to lay ears on. In short, I can guarantee that Vena Cava are good at what they do. But whether they can find someone who can be arsed to listen to them is anyone's guess. In fact, such full-on musical masturbation makes me want to run away and join a convent, where only then will I be safe.

Anna C


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