Phestive Phantomime: The Phantom Band, Stereo, Glasgow
Live ReviewsSanta can keep his prezzies, we’ll take Los Phantos any night of the year.
17th December 2011, Stereo, Glasgow / By Lucy Brouwer

First up is guitar instrumentalist and Glasgow fixture, R.M.Hubbard. Hubby has featured on nearly every discerning line up in the last year and rightly so, with his uniquely hypnotic acoustic percussive style. The usherettes hand out (bah) humbugs and there are more tales of “the halls of hell” from Albert and Crampus, (who is revealed off-stage to be BBC Scotland DJ Vic Galloway, gleefully revelling in his demonic persona.) An off-kilter film by Rachel MacLean (an hallucinogenic attempt to use bananas to prove the existence of god, among other things) manages to bemuse the room between acts.
Occult hero Jacob Yates (tonight taking on the persona of a hobo twin brother called Trevor) appears on stage recumbent on a park bench, accessorised with newspapers, can of Skol and ragged clothes. His band, The Pearly Gate Lock Pickers are all dressed as cops; they end the set by beating him up. Born from the ashes of Uncle John & Whitelock, in this incarnation Yates teeters on an axis between Cave and Cash, his jerky blues and gallows humour culminating in the epic tale of a local zombie apocalypse, Mary Hell, highlight of their 2011 album, Luck.
Burrito-loving, microphone-abusing, jazz metal behemoths Take A Worm For A Walk Week, steer things in a more brutal direction. Imagine a bunch of sweaty dudes raised on a musical diet consisting of Slayer, Arab Strap and nothing else, and you might come close to the kind of chaos that they inflict on the stage.
This kind of aural assault takes some following but a cleaning lady character who has been mopping the floor all evening, sees off Albert Ross with a curse composed of Phantom Band lyrics. Rick Redbeard and band - at least two of whom are clad in their trademark sequined muumuus - summon up Folk Song Oblivion. Tracks from The Wants (O, Everybody Knows It’s True, A Glamour) are a slow-build; thumping drums with lots of Glockenspiel flourish and heavy Germanic funk bass lines. They finish with a headstand from Rick and a thunderous Left Hand Wave. A chord from Silent Night thankfully transfigures into a banjo-laden Island and they leave the stage taking panto-style bows. If this is what we get for being naughty instead of nice, then Santa can keep his prezzies, we’ll take Los Phantos any night of the year.
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