CLUBKAARTSHOWThursday 23 September
Global Charming+ WOLVON
Subroutine Records viert 15e verjaardag
Global Charming exorcise the banality of everyday life, knowing the planet is doomed and the printer is out of ink again.
On their upcoming debut album Mediocre, brutal the Amsterdam based postpunk quartet explore the monotony of daily routines, survival of the dullest kind; because boring is intense. Fuelled by the lingering energy of repetitive rhythm, wayward guitars wash away the dead taste of vending machine coffee, breaking free from frustration with sharp jolts. Lyrics about cutlery and new coats blend with Global Charming’s lean compositions, marked by playful synths and percussion.
The group, made up of familiar figures in the Dutch underground scene as musicians, record producers and visual artists, recorded the album at Schenk Studio, Amsterdam. Debut ‘Mediocre, brutal’ was self-produced and mixed by Mikey Young.
Follow the rhythm of a plate spinning on a tabletop: the acceleration, the sudden halt. Again, and again, and again.
The scene’s semi official scribe Incendiary Magazine wrote the following about a WOLVON show in the bicycle shed turned squat turned venue SUB071 in Leiden: ‘On this showing Wolvon were rabid and bestial, veritable Gabriel Ernests of Rock: battering their equipment and shredding the atmosphere like a bear in a supermarket. At one stage singer Ike was writhing on SUB’s filthy floor, eyes rolling and gob agape, howling through some form of bozo incantation, waiting to be beamed up to some guitar playing alien world where beer was permanently cold and Ash Ra Tempel played all day on the coin-op. Some of the audience were howling at this point too, things got ridiculously loose and things were going decidedly fuzzy at the edges, like a barn dance where someone’s put acid in the lemonade. Not only that but the place was in near darkness, as someone had knocked the lights off in the SUB. In true werewolf fashion, Wolvon played on, howling and crashing with only the light of two underpowered disco lights and a phone flash. Epic. Bananas.’ (Richard Foster in Incendiary Magazine )