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According to Magpie – or professor of Jack Daniels induced rubber-gloved bollocks if you saw their Rock Sound tour video recently - Manchester trio Kong are most inspired by “the free ten minutes at the start of Playboy TV”. Puerile? Why certainly, but it doesn’t put me off, and there’s one giant reason why.
I’m coaxed via ‘Wet Your Knives’ into a grimy underworld like a Luciferian Alice In Wonderland; wondering, as my eye line meets the faces of Magpie, Lulu and Krem, if the beast of Bodmin Moor was in fact a hoax to detract from these real circus freak rejects living amongst the Manchester public. Is it at all possible that everyone in the room has accidentally swallowed mind-altering pills and misinterpreted a performance art show for a rock gig? Probably not, but as Kong deliver both, it becomes clear; the only thing we’re laced in is their whiskey drenched saliva and this is exactly the sort of questionable brain disaster they want us to be involved in. This is Kong after all, and your sense of rational may as well be made out of wax having relocated to Arizona.
As deafening feedback causes the audience to scream, not with pain but with that naughty emotion living in the inner slime between fear and excitement, the three mad hatters are wearing their trademark red get up; the sort of comfy uniform that’d have a shopping mall Santa shouting abuse at Mrs. Claus for insisting he wear a belt. Everything goes as Lancashire’s answer to fear and loathing in your local launch ravenously into their long-awaited début album ‘Snake Magnet’.
Touring this audio perversion around the UK, they’re leaving fans confused, repulsed, and in the throws of some utterly sick lust. It’s true that during ‘Blood Of A Dove’ I realise that a) this is an affair exempt of any charm and b) is everything my itunes sub-conscious wants. ‘Sport’ begins, sounding like a dog kennel on fire as yelping guitars and drums of napalm explode into the sort of 90’s perfected noise rock that even an arsonist would fear. In short, it’s grossly wonderful, and strangely natural, akin to finding a cup of mouldy tea feverishly rotting on my windowsill, whilst somehow finding beauty within its stench. Doesn’t happen often does it?
If they’d been athletic enough to stay in the circus however, things may have been different, but as Magpie explains, they began writing ‘Snake Magnet’ solely because they aren’t good enough to “wrestle professionally”. This is probably a lie he told me whilst licking the conjunctivitis off the eyeball of run of mill shite, but hell, the Albini era of my record collection is more than fucking grateful; men look shit in spandex.
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Tags: kong kelly murray candid fever snake magnet album launch leeds magpie lulu krem
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