Catching up with Jon McClure as he convalesces from his recent back injury - "I'm almost fighting fit so watch out!" - the Mixtape is, as he describes it "...a chance to show a more experimental side to the band," and it’s enough to inspire any congregation to go forth and spread the makers' message...

Okay, so track titles such as ‘MDMAZING’ are about as understated as the impressively statured Rev himself hanging around at a jockey’s social club, but understatement isn’t what ‘Mixtape Vol  1’ is about; rather we’re treated to a bass-heavy behemoth of a record, featuring an embarrassment of musical riches, and with a guest list including the likes of Carl Barat (‘Acid House Wife’), Howard Marks (‘MDMAZING’) and Richard Hawley (‘Faster Faster’). The standing of his collaborators also influenced the Rev’s decision to release the tape on Spotify - "it'd be a bit w*nk to sell an album on other folks’ names, so instead it's online for free...”

We're big fans of Roots Manuva double-hander 'The Hidden Persuaders', which starts off Ennio Morricone before Roots' sizzling Warped beats take over, but Jon prefers 'Deeper Down', which sees McClure and Matic Mouth Crockett and Tubbsing it over a piece of slicked back 80's soul "...if the charts weren't full of pop boar, this would be number one..." That treat will have to wait for the album, hopefully...

When an email pops up in my inbox promising a mix of Magazine and Television, understandably I get rather excited. The band drawing such lofty comparisons are Frenetics, a four-piece who recently impressed supporting Band of Skulls and whose members straddle South and West Yorkshire like some sort of giant, flat-cap donning terrier.

The Verdict

‘Ella’ ushers in the album in typically loud fashion, with drums as delicate as a tank flattening your neighbour’s house while you’re trying to get some shut-eye and amps clearly turned up to the maximum – it’s a brash, in-your-face punk rock assault at times, with the rawness accentuated by singer Gavin’s lairy, Shelley-esque vocals. ‘See You on the Other Side’ is similarly antagonistic, with the band clearly having mastered the loud-louder dynamic and certainly living up to their name, but ‘Satellites’ sees them have a rustle deeper into their bag of musical tricks and display some more harmonious pop sensibilities amongst the occasional franticness.

Closer ‘Swing Kids’ presents Frenetics as a more introverted prospect; the stripped-back sound actually appears a better fit, making evident an added poignancy in Gavin’s voice, and when they do amp things up towards the end, it has far more effect, leaving you to envisage a panoramic closing scene reminiscing on the frenzy they created previously. When they’re being a little less frenetic, you feel that this band could be very, very good indeed.

7/10

Words by Lewis Parker

www.frenetics.co.uk 

“What you doing?” he asks. I tell him I’m finishing off a review of this cool Sheffield act called See Emily Play. “A bit Tory Amos and bit Dresden Dolls. I really like them. But not the guitar,” I tell him. “They any good?” he asks and smiles.

“You going to tell me you’re her drummer, right?”

He laughs and says no, "But my mate plays with them.”

I tell him I like them. A lot. Apart from that guitar.

Ryan is a session drummer you see. He’s been in so many bands, including Rotherham’s This Girl and Lovebloods –and still is – he could well be, for all I know the drummer in See Emily Play as well. But he isn’t. As of December, he was recruited as the sticksman for Sheffield outfit Reverend and the Makers; a dream job it seems, and as we chat he pulls out of his pocket a wad of cards. I’ve heard about these before, I thought. In his last interview he pulled out music trivia cards. I hope they’re music trivia and not sports.

“I’m an avid pub-quizzer,” I tell him. “Especially music.” He acknowledges with a shifty nod.

So I take another sip o’ale and I ask him how familiar with them there songs he was before joining Reverend. He shifts his hat and starts.

“The original drummer [Richy Westley] was a good mate of mine and the brother of Matt, This Girl’s bassist. Incestuous right? I was at the first Rev gigs; me and Richy used to hang out at Club 60 together. After he left and as soon as Jon [McClure] decided it was time for Reverend to go for it again, I was the first guy to get the call. I was well chuffed.”

Ryan Jenkinson stops, pulls out a question card and reads from it. “How many bottles were washed ashore in The Police’s Message in a Bottle?”

Sh*t, I think. I know this one! “Eeerr..... Fifteen..... Fifteen hundred! Is it fifteen hundred?”

He sucks in through his teeth, shaking his head. “Is that your final answer?” 

“Argh! Fifteen thousand?” I say. And then he started to sing it in a strained Sting voice, “'Woke up this morning, don’t believe what I saw... something something... washed up on the shore...' How many?” he asks again, all stern like. I settle on twenty thousand.

“Oh... Poor and very wrong. One hundred billion is the answer. That’s your first one.”

And then he stops dead and turns his ear to the sky as I realise he's listening to The PA in the bar we're sat in. “Oh.... this is a tuuune! I’m a massive Pearl Jam fan.”

I couldn’t place the song but I know it was from their V’s album. “Me too,” I said, “Me too...”

“You should check out the Into the Wild soundtrack. That’s one of my favourites.” I tell him I loved it and in turn I recommend Eddie Vedder’s Ukulele Songs album. “Beautiful. I’m glad you’re a Pearl Jam fan. You’re safe now,” he says, nodding. I tell him I always thought Nirvana were overrated and that I always preferred Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains. “...and I was a massive Alice in Chains fan too. Wow. We’re there man... Me and you. What you doing later?” He jokes excitedly.

“Right, stop! Back to the interview.”

I ask him if he had any input in the writing of the album. “I came in after it had been written but before it had been mixed and mastered. Also, there were no live drums on it, it was all programmed percussion. Because of this they weren’t really set up to play a live gig. Jon said, ‘what I need you to do is turn what me and the producer wrote and turn it into a live band sound,’ so we started afresh; as a proper band, just jamming and jamming out all of these new songs...

When I got a call to do this gig, Jon was in Vietnam and I was told that by the time he gets back you need to have learned all the songs. I just got my head down and did a shit load of homework. It was a massive challenge but I turned it round in three weeks.” I'm impressed. “Yeah and by the time Jon got back, at the first auditions I nailed it. Proper killed it.”

He pulls out another question card. “Which singer did Eminem sample on his song Like Toy Soldiers?”

“Easy... Martika. A Classic song,” I say, “Martika that is.  Not the Eminem one.”

Ryan waves his glass and rants “Oh, you know what p*ssed me off? Now, I was never a massive Aerosmith fan but Dream On is an amazing song right..?” I nod in agreement, “Dream On right, the best song ever written.... Eminem sampled it and well, ruined it... basically just spoke over the track. It was crap.”

“So, what was your first gig with Reverend?”

He smiles, “Officially it was supporting Noel [Gallagher] at the MEN Arena to something like 28,000 people, but we ended up getting three warm up shows booked because we’d never played as a band together before. It was mental good though. Thing is, when he [Noel] called Jon, he always knew that a lot of Oasis fans like Reverend and the Makers. 

"It’s the perfect support to be honest," I offer. "I’ve been to Arena gigs and there has been a great support but totally wrong for that gig and so they ended up playing to a near empty stadium because no one’s into that band.”

“Actually, my missus [Charlotte, bassist for The Subways] supported AC/DC at Wembley. I was bass teching and they went on forty minutes before AC/DC. When they went on stage, all the old metal heads were all like "There’s a bird in the band! They’re sh*t..." But they just played their heavier stuff and actually turned them around pretty quickly.” Another sip of Moonshine, then, “You know, the Noel tour had sold out quickly and he had free reign on his choice as support, so it was great to get that chance. Right, time for another,” He suggests, and flicks through his cards.

He’s fiddling with his ipod, so I ask him what he’s listening to at the moment. He reaches over for my headphones and plugs them in. “Listen to this. They’re amazing. They're a bit hardcore; a bit Rocket from the Crypt. They’re called The Computers and they’re mine and Charlotte’s favourite band right now. She asked them to support Subways on tour. They ended up playing their entire 2008 European tour. What about you?”

“Well, if you like drums and electronics, you should listen to Death Grips. They are the best hip hop band in the world right now. They have an amazing drummer called Zach Hill, who comes from a rock background as well. It’s amazing, progressive and very aggressive rap and they use really cool samples like Pink Floyd, Pet Shop Boys and Bowie. Death Grips and Killing Joke’s new album too.”

“We got Youth [Killing Joke bassist] producing the new album, you know? The band gave Youth the tracks they had produced and he filled them out with more drums; more everything really. When we got it back, it sounded amazing. He’s made it mental.”

Ryan takes a sup of his ale and suggests we play 'B*llocks'. Basically 'Name that Tune' from a special Jenkinson ipod playlist... 

"There’s some right stuff on here; Right Said Fred, Andrew WK, Aswad, Aztec Camera, Billy Idol, loads of Bjork, Babylon Zoo. Once on tour I took out my B*llocks playlist and I think it was Dr. Dre’s Keep Their Heads Ringin’ and the band shouted bollocks within a second. Quite good, I thought. They got it just from the bong sample at the start. Nice and distinctive. Are you ready?" He asks. "Let’s get you a good one. Say b*llocks when you’ve got it.”

He plays some early 90’s raga-pop. I think I know it.

“B*llocks!” I shouted. “Is it Oh, Carolina?”

“No.”

“Mercy. No. Tease Me, Tease Me.”

“Yes, but by who?”

“Pato Banton. Stakka Bo.” He’s laughing, shaking his head. “Bitty McClean? Sh*t sh*t sh*t.... Got it. Chaka Demus & Pliers?

“Good,” he laughs at me getting worked up. “Right... this is a good one. You won’t get the artists but you’ll get the song title maybe.” I knew it straight away. More of the same thing.

“Ha! Charles and Eddie.” Ryan was genuinely shocked. “Would you Lie To Me Baby...?”

“Whaat? Can’t believe you got that. You know, playing this in a Reverend dressing room is amazing because they’re always rammed with about forty people.”

Back to the interview I think. Got to wind it up now. I ask about the new album.

“We’ll probably have another single out first and release in time for festivals; maybe around June.”

“So, how long’s this Reverend job going to be then?”

“Well, I’m now part of the band. I’m in all of the press shots, which is awesome. Normally, session drummers are hired per gig.”

“And you’re in the Wiki line-up too. You still got time to do your other stuff as well?”

“When we get breaks, like the three week break we had after Noel, I went back to Lovebloods and Pathetic Academic for a bit.”

“Well, good luck with it mate,” I wished him all the best, with that he got up, he pulled down his woolly hat and left.

Reverend and The Makers' new album '@Reverend_Makers' is released on 18th June. 'Bassline' from the new album is available to download for free from the band's website and first single 'The Wrestler' is available from iTunes.  

Words by Jason White. Read Jason's blog 'Coming Through The Trees' here. 

Held in the warren of event rooms and warehouse spaces that make up the Creative Arts Development Space (CADS), DLS takes place in different parts of the complex depending on the night in question. Tonight, they’ve pulled out all the stops for this bank holiday tech-fest.

After almost a year of holding events in the Snow Lane side of CADS, for tonight DLS has returned to its original home on the Smithfield side of the site. There’s a newly renovated underground room, a new bar doling out Red Stripes like there’s no tomorrow, a bigger main room and even an outside café to keep us fuelled up into the early hours.

Photograph by Matt Byne

DLS is a bit of a gem in Sheffield’s underground scene, and on arrival we swiftly set about exploring tonight’s layout for this ever-changing venue. There are two rooms, separated by a partially-covered courtyard, and each has just the right level of shabby warehouse-chic to make this the perfect setting for Collect!’s tech-house party. More importantly, this unusual venue offers something completely different from the city centre’s usual clubs and bars – and this makes it pretty exciting.

Exploration over, we claim a spot in the main underground room to have a dance. I spend the next few hours waving my limbs around (in a completely dignified manner) to some flawless house from DJ Sarita and some live synth from Joe Moskow + Friends, before headliner Harvey Mckay steps up. Mckay’s stripped down tech-house and heavier techno is perfectly at home within DLS’s bare brick walls (listen to his immense 'Unit' below), and as his set carries on into the night the crowd show no signs of letting up. Combine this atmosphere and a venue as interesting as DLS and you’re onto a winner.  

Photograph by Matt Byne

Keep your eyes open for more nights at Sheffield’s Dirty Little Secret, and see what's going on at CADS here. Thanks to Matt Byne for use of photos.

Well, perhaps.

Certainly a goodly chunk of my own childhood was spent mashing the joypad of a Super Nintendo, salivating as my 16 bit spandex avatar yet again dispatched Player 2 to the canvas with an impeccably timed People's Elbow. Oh, heady days. This, supplemented by wrestling action figures, lampshades, bedsheets and the daily playground ‘Royal Rumble’ made an indelible impression upon me - and, as I discover to my cost today, burdened me with an hilariously misplaced delusion of physical adequacy.

"Yeah, hi... so you brought trainers, right?"

Andy Hogg and I share a first name and, well, that's about it. Co-founder of the Dronfield based National Community Wrestling Alliance, he's been pile-driving and lariatting his way around these isles for some 15 years now, simultaneously working hard behind the scenes promoting the sport and introducing young people to the physical, mental and social benefits of a good old fashioned grapple.

Bearing in mind his level of seriousness and professionalism, you'll understand my mortification as I turn up to his weekly training session 20 minutes late, inappropriately attired and (dear reader, I confess) still absolutely sh*tfaced from the night before.

"Um, no," I gingerly kick my natty brown loafers into a corner and join the warm-up; around 15 or so mostly large, mostly sweaty guys (I'd cunningly missed the traditional run around the carpark by mere seconds) are following Hogg around the gym in crocodile formation performing various stretches and lunges. As the crocodile doubles back on itself everyone gets a chance to size me up for the first time - glassy eyed and pallid in plaid shirt and skinny jeans, accessorized with cowboy belt and odd socks quite transparently stolen from my girlfriend’s dressing table, I sense they are yet to perceive me as much of a threat. "They'll see. They'll ALL see..." I mutter under my breath as we pause for a sip of water on the floor. So... to the ring already?

"Nope. Twenty push-ups". Such an entreaty would surely strike fear into the hearts of lesser wastrels, but I'm actually rather good at push-ups. Proper ones, too. I think there must be some kind of optimum ratio of lameness to feebleness, whereby if ones upper body weighs as much as, say, a packet of super noodles, then one is as apt to fail lifting it a foot off the ground as one would be unable to flush a toilet or uncap a biro. Gratifyingly the burlier, scarier hulks around me seem to bear my theory out, as they sweat and pant their enormous red faces back and forth to the mat, and thus my confidence swells...

"Ok, sit-up time". Once again, and not to blow my own trumpet, I'm a bit of a don at these. Purely in the interests of looking good in my XXS limited edition Japanese Lady Gaga t-shirt, you understand, I make a point of knocking off at least 200 sit-ups a week; nothing too keen, just stripped to my boxers on the sitting room rug while Family Guy's on or whevs.

Anticipating nothing but admiration from Andy Hogg for my chiseled abs, I am dismayed to hear a snigger ripple around the room as from my rear jeans pocket cascades twelve quid in change, 3 lighters, a cracked iPhone and a depleted pouch of Golden Virginia tobacco. Not a strong look. "Technically, this can be classed as athletics", someone helpfully pipes up.

Having at least broken the ice now, I'm curious to find out what the live shows are like. Being a very down to earth lot I can't imagine anything like the kind of full-on camp histrionics of The Rock vs Yokozuna, but at the same time I recognize in their eyes the gleam of true boyhood fandom. "Most of us have characters and costumes, all of that. It just makes it fun, more of a spectacle" says Hogg. "I go by the alias of Notorious P.I.G. Or, if you will, Snoop Hoggy-Hogg." See what he did there?! So, is it all made up? "Sort of, I suppose. At the beginning of the bout we decide who's going to win. There's this idea which goes back a long way in wrestling of the 'good' guys vs the 'bad' guys. Obviously the crowd want the good guy to win, but as a wrestler you definitely prefer to be the bad guy! Anyway, it's loosely choreographed, I suppose you could say, around a repertoire of moves we practice until they're perfect".

After some twenty more minutes of push-ups, sit-ups and stretches it's finally time - huzzah! - to drag the big crash mat into the middle of the room and drill the repertoire. This is immense fun, as I get to by turns throw and be thrown, grip and be gripped, lunge and be lunged at. "You find really it's all about knowing where the bends are in the body, and using the momentum of your opponent to make it look like you've sent him flying."

A knot of my fellow revellers from the night before have assembled at a discreet distance (but well within mocking range), overjoyed at the sight of my limp form being slammed with queasy regularity into the dirt. "Done right, it's an art form". Most of the moves take several attempts on my part, and once or twice I land a little off-kilter causing the nerves in my lower back to shriek in agony, much to everyone's droll amusement and sarcastic applause. "I used to wrestle too" offers Danielle, the charming young administrator and photographer of the group, on hand with a wet flannel should things take a turn for the fractured. "Yeah, I used to compete with the guys and everything. This one time I broke a finger. Carried on, naturally."

Though for my part I had actually managed to pull off a handful of semi-respectable manoeuvres (admittedly only on the leaner and younger of my co-pugilists), now that the going was getting tough it felt very much like the time to get going. Forced to admit once and for all that I'm more Wogan than Hogan, more WTF than WWF, it's time to stand aside and let the guys show me what this sport is really all about. After 5 minutes conferring in a huddle to, I guess, choreograph the bout, two tag teams emerge with one nominated 'referee'. Then it's to the ring, and one of the daftest, most brilliant and thoroughly entertaining spectacles I've ever witnessed unfolds before me. To really understand what's going on you have to, I think, appreciate men. Superficially crude, boorish and rough and tumble, for sure, give men enough time and enough like-minded souls to play with and you'll get something not far off watching a bunch of 5 year olds after a sherbet binge.

Such theatrics; all the holds and suplexes and a dozen other moves I'd just practiced combined with superlatively hammy acting and caricatured bad guy/good guy posturing. They were so immersed in their own world that I almost felt bad when it was time for me to squeeze my already stiff limbs meekly between the ropes for a strictly non-competitive set of final photos.

"I'll pin you; just make sure you land on this bit" says gentle natured man-mountain Mikey Rose, indicating a patch of canvas maybe three feet from the centre. "It's known as a sweet spot. If you don't know what you're doing you can land on the metal frame underneath, and trust me, nobody wants that". Very unsportingly I decide, as he approaches, to sneakily put my training into action. In my head, at least, he would be startled by a ninja-quick right handed clothesline out of nowhere; then I'd lift all 14 stone (at least) of him over my head, whirl his sorry ass round like a helicopter and drive his sweaty knackers BAM! straight into the turnbuckle. My sporting destiny fulfilled.

Alas, it was not to be, as the big man effortlessly brushes off my pathetic swinging right arm and knocks me down like so much human Jenga. Humiliatingly tapping me out - with his own SPARE ARM - I'm forced to concede defeat.

NCWA regularly rassle at The Library Theatre, Sheffield. Visit their Facebook Page for more -aaaaaAAAAarrrgh (*Exposed is picked up and thrown across the room and into a pile of metal chairs)!

After a mid-afternoon dash down Division Street we left triumphant, clutching one of the very limited edition play buttons (think of a round ipod shuffle which you can pin to your lapels or favourite back-pack, or just put in your pocket). The play-buttons come with four tracks from the Gossip’s forthcoming album ‘A Joyful Noise’, which is released in full on 14^th May.

Bungalows and Bears has just twenty-five of these buttons to give away, and is one of just a handful of bars in the UK to be given any at all.

The play button itself is a real treat, coming in some slick packaging that makes it look more like a bank-breaking Apple product than a free giveaway, and decorated with some rather ghoulish album artwork. To use they’re completely idiot proof and getting a sneak peak at some new music is always a joy.

Without a doubt this is an interesting and innovative way to promote new music, and hopefully there’s more of this to come. Keep your eyes peeled for an Exposed review of these new tracks later this week. In the meantime, we suggest you get down to Bungalows and Bears on the double to get yours – once they’re gone, they’re gone!

Take a look here for more info about the new album and all things Gossip related.