Bristol
1 November 2025
Next up was another local act, Shoun Shoun, who traded in a more discordant underground thing. Their singer Annette is from Berlin and with her brought a sense of intrigue — and along with the electric violin of her co-front person, helped create some dark beat-driven tracks that featured churning synth and kick in the chest drums.
It was a wall of sound that had Annette keening like a reinvigorated Siouxsie in some places and purring over a sultry sinuous groove in others. The spikey guitar, the oscillating keyboard textures, the commentary on femininity all had us drawn closer into their sticky, sleazy web while the battering ram rhythm section built the intensity; a brazen swagger dashed with a kind of metallic horror and another great addition to a diverse line-up. After some moments of set up and a further influx of excited punters, the band took to the stage which we could only assume from the response of the front section of the crowd. It was packed and already hot, with little view afforded to those of us towards the rear, but as they surged into “Quarter Days” from the new album, all that was forgotten and the sound of the band meshing together, producing that spikey, throbbing motorik groove that we remembered of old, it could have been a couple of years that had passed and not twenty-six. I last saw them at The Louisiana in 1999 and I have to say, time has been kind to them. They all looked well, David Jeffreys sporting a great beard, the rest with the odd fleck of grey or a pair of glasses. As for Linda Steelyard, she must have a portrait in the attic as there seemed to be no change at all. As the set progressed, so she twirled relentlessly around the stage while Mick Derrick stalked zombie-like, staring or bantering constantly, keeping up a flow of anecdotes and observations. I was expecting more of the new album, but they chose to spend quite a bit of the time destroying and reanimating some stone-cold classics much to the delight of the sweating throng. “Doorstop Rhythmic Bloc” was a hoot, everyone joining in with the “All aboard the Ark Royal” refrain, while “TCR” was an even further blast from the past. Whoever set the sound up did a great job as you could hear all the elements that created such a diverse musical stew, guitars entwining around one another while the bass and drums delivered hard, heavy rhythmic shock. What was also great was how the new material instantly sounded like something they have been pursuing for years; “Err On The Side Of Dead” was dispatched with relish, and the drums and the heat and the overwhelming sound in such a small space made for an oppressive if exhilarating experience. Even the band was feeling the heat, with Mick D joking after two songs about how much longer they would have to play. There was a relentlessness to their approach that kind of turned the set into one sweat-infused sprawl, the noise attack of “Visa For Violet And Van” surging into “Black Death Ambulance” from the first album. The bass tone was phenomenal and the overall tempo was frantic, Mick and Linda seemingly enjoying the workout as the others stewed on the spot.Who knew the government of Spain was evil? We received a brief history lesson before launching into the pure motorik energy of “Slash / Oblique” with its “Albuquerque” refrain gratefully latched onto by a crowd awash in a feedback-soaked sea. The energy they brought to the songs was intense, as if they were desperate to take them outside and give them a good kicking; so old b-side “Testation” was given a threatening airing, as was newbie “Fall Of Cashline”.
By this time they had the audience in the palm of their hands, but there was no letting up and “Killing The Bland”, with its “Cast iron colander weighing yae doon” line was as ever amusing and then a madcap dash through “Headless In A Beat Motel”, after which followed a surreal reflection on Heidi the gig organiser, Heidi the ’70s TV show and the resemblance of Mick’s sister to Heidi. Then they were off, sweat trailing to “hide behind the wall before coming back on”. They didn’t take long to re-appear and I had an internal tingle when the bass riff to “Flex” started up the encore. A truncated version admittedly, but it scythed its way through the crowd and was just the sort of track from which there is no return.It was a relief to leave the confines of the room, but we would have all willingly put up with more just for the pleasure of seeing Prolapse. The band seemed pleased with the show and the fact that we turned up on a rainy Saturday; so let’s hope it isn’t another ten years before they reconvene. All aboard the Ark Royal indeed.
-Words: Mr Olivetti-
-Pictures: Michael Rodham-Heaps-
