Tag Archives: Goldrush

The Last Trailerpark – The September Gurls, The Schla La Las, Goldrush and The Black Madonnas

The Cellar, Oxford
20th July 2004

After 3 years and 10 months, Truck Records’ Trailerpark nights at The Cellar have reached a natural conclusion.

Born in the aftermath of the demise of live music at the Jericho, highlights of the fortnightly Trailerpark have included shows by NPB and The Young Knives; a choir doing a Fonda 500 cover at the Christmas party; introducing the likes of The Broken Family Band, Major Matt and the anti-folkers, KTB, Trademark and Nervous Testpilot to Oxford; discovering MC Lars; and putting on Mark Gardener’s first Oxford show in years.

Truck Records’ P-C Rae says, ‘Initially it was more of a club than it was in the end; regulars came and went and by the end it was erring more on the side of “went”. All things have a natural lifespan and Trailerpark was on borrowed time. It was a great way to go; in fact, one of the best nights we ever had.’

First in a Truck Festival warm-up line-up is The September Gurls, AKA Danny Power; joined by Goldrush on Living in Slow Motion, he’s a pleasant mix of wit and Springsteen Americana.

Piney Gir-fronted all-girl The Schla La Las are surf-rock kitsch, like a Shonen Knife of Barbies. Fun and memorable, especially on the catchy Shallow Girl, they do a song about themselves, which every self-respecting pop punk band should do.

Goldrush’s performance is more spirited than in recent years; playing mostly from their new EP, Ozona, it seems that their travels have given their sound an extra edge and sheen. The highlight is Pocket Socket Rocket – played by Whispering Bob at their first ever gig – which is accompanied by singalong songsheets and even rapping from a crowdmember.

The Black Madonnas, who bring Trailerpark to an end, are garagey, bluesy, heavy, bass-driven and very very loud. Although most of the trio’s repertoire is too distorted for comfortable listening, they impress with their attitude, passion and brazen cover of Ain’t Nothing Goin’ On But The Rent.

Trailerpark may be gone, but its legacy remains.

From Nightshift

Photos: © Richard Whitelock

Panel Of Judges, Byrne, The Broken Family Band, The Maplettes and Spartacus

The Cellar, Oxford
27th February 2003

Here’s a challenge – to describe 5 bands and the atmosphere of another excellent Trailerpark at the Cellar in 300 words. Here goes…

First up were Melbourne-based instrument-swapping new wave-y trio Panel Of Judges, on their first British tour. Unfortunately hampered by bad sound levels and being slightly out of tune, their West Coast-ish jangles were very pleasant and showed promise: if (when) they come up with a killer tune, it could be very special.

Second came mellow indie crooners Byrne, fresh from supporting MBICR at the Union Chapel the night before. Frontman Scot Patrick Byrne is a powerful presence (especially on recent single Tidal Wave), and his angst contributed to the overall mix of strong vocal harmonies set against a backdrop of guitars and occasional organ and other reverbed electronic stuff. They reminded me of the Waterboys in places, and were by far the most emotional – and serious – band on the bill.

Third up were Cambridge-based acerbic alt.country antagonists The Broken Family Band, whose sweet melodies, juxtaposed with sarcastic and hateful lyrics, created a bundle of vicious energy, musically and lyrically redolent of The Eels but with added British cynicism. Singer Steven Adams seemed permanently pissed off throughout the set (though he did say he was ill), but this added to their charm somehow.

Fourth on were “The Maplettes”, AKA Goldrush, now Jef-less and trying out new stuff. Their songwriting is moving on, exploring different areas of melody and rhythm, and these rockier and janglier new songs will surely be developed further live and in the studio.

The exhausting night was rounded off by Spartacus, looking like a local instrumental supergroup of sorts (boasting 2 drummers and 2 bassists) and sounding like TROT’s scrappier but rockier and more daring – if slightly warped – younger brother.

From Nightshift, April 2003