This review taken from HermAphrodite #4.

York Fibbers – 17/3/98

My mother takes one look at my hair as I leave the house, and tells me not to

return if I have anything else pierced. ( For her,

vertical hair equates with metal-work body-art as

well as hooliganism. )

Two hours later, Gaz has taken one look at my

hair and is now proceeding to tell me I’ve become

a mod since I last saw them. ( I don’t think so.

You find me a mod with camouflage trousers

which look, at a distance, as though the wearer is

on fire... Gaz - “Have you ever noticed how you

can never see the legs of anyone wearing

camouflage trousers?” ) Though at least he wasn’t

telling me that I needed to find myself a ‘nice

young man.’ ( I think some phrases are actually

copyrighted out solely to parents. )

Neither point had been high on my priority list

for the evening before she’d mentioned them. All

I’d wanted from the evening had been some punk

rock, some punk rockers, a decent couple of

conversations, and maybe some good scissor-kick shots. Now I’m on the look-out for a body-piercer I can take home. Such is life...

I’m back in York to see The Beekeepers, currently touring to promote the new

album, and all I really wanna know of them is will they play ‘The Mouse Song’?

Will they? Will they please? Will they bollocks...

They have far better things to do with their time. Like accuse

myself and my friends of being tarts, reminisce about smiley-toast,

complain about my crosswords, or, um, pretend to be Eric

Morecambe. ( Jamie doesn’t just use his yellow-tinted glasses to

look a ponce, ya know... )

Oh, and they take the time to introduce us all to Gorilla, the

support they’ve brought with them from Derby. Jamie says they

sound like Faith No More. They say I shouldn’t believe anything

that Jamie tells me. I’d offer an opinion as to this debate as well,

but I was paying more attention when they were on to why the

guitarist was standing on Becca’s table when he had a perfectly

good space on the side of the stage. Probably because they refuse to relinquish

the audience’s attention, once it has been wrestled from the drinks in their sweaty

paws. Probably. Though the man in question could well have just been a social

tart with a thing for tables. Who knows ? Who cares ? What is important, is that

Gorilla rock. Happily run riot in a very small space. Wear dress-suits in the style

of hit-men with guitars. And can craft a good ‘choon’ for my to dance to. Cool.

Which is more’n I can say for Slack Elvis, 2nd band on, and ones whom I mostly

ignored. Possibly named after a slurred misinterpretation of

a GoldBlade song-title, their music itself just sounds messy.

And the lack of co-ordination is covered by turning up the

guitars. ( Yeah, we, uh, noticed that trick. )

Go and buy some Jon Spencer.

Please...

And then the stage is blank. Devoid of life. Potential

audience members are still huddled about the bar.

And then out of the darkness in comes the chugga-chugga

start of ‘Eyeballed’, and you know the evening’s about to kick into touch....

They played a blinder. What else d’you wanna know?

How I was pointedly not checking the set-list for

the order, and so the beginning chords of most every

single song were met with a surprised ‘ooh, goody’

from me...? How ‘Suffer’ still sounds bile spat, and is

always and forever introduced as ‘One for the ladies’

( gee thanks Jamie ) ...? How we were treated to two

new ones ‘Friendly Fire’ and ‘All I Want’, and they

both have the potential to be right corkers too...?

How I turn around half-way through the set, and

find that Becca has on my coat...? ( I wanna know

what she’s doing. She wants to know why I have

Jaffa Cakes in my pockets... ) How I ended up

feeling as though I was happily swimming in their

album? Is that what you wanna know? Or d’you just

just want the assurance that The Beekeepers rock,

and they roll? Oooh yeah... cat got your tongue?

Last revised: 27/07/01