CSS - Yes!

Paul Griffiths on the '07 NME Indie Rave Tour at Cardiff University Great Hall. February 11th, 2007

A rapture of noise bounces through Cardiff University hallway. What, 7:40! NME has brought Rave to a socially acceptable time, but slightly better alcohol elsewhere has cost me the delights of openers NewYoung Pony Club.

Yesterday’s anarchy filled our fields with paranoid junkies, malnutritioned banana costumes devouring Matrix style pills whilst limbs flexed to the power of the beat. The great roar of the bass vibrated through the fields polluting our apples with The Orb and The Shamen. Grandma Dorris can now cuddle up to a hot furry water bottle. Cows no longer participate in the delights of cow tipping with bug eyed limb wrestlers; hmmmm, the country purrrrsssss through the darkened sky as NME enters the frame.

Entering the hallway, The Sunshine Underground are nearing their end. The Leeds four-piece have developed a commanding stage presence, and the furore is intense. Their angry, angular melodies are delivered with throbbing heart by lead man Craig Wellington, an aggressive punk flare fluttering through their closing set.

The roadies jump to the stage and configure the widgets for CSS. Crowds are lit up by multicolored Barry Island glow sticks, and gossip crawls through the urinals.

The bar's barrels have been deflowered of golden liquid by the crowd. Adidas tracksuits have been morphed into a Topman world. Bright glimmering adverts project visual brands on the glary-eyed youth.

Adverts!

Brands!

Music is an art form that is universally beloved. It allows us to escape the complexities of life and allows us all to share the same emotion as our neighbours. Religion, poverty and illness doesn't exist within the beauty of music; whilst brands shake the hand of Mr Green. Greed is a beast that lives in your gut feeding from the misery of others. Hopefully NME has learned from its 2005 shake with corruption

Whistles!!

Glow sticks are pointing towards the stars whilst their owners pull and push. Still looking out for a random blowing a large green whistle. The bizarre dance routines are highlighted by a Bez clone wearing a faded grey cardigan shaking to the erratic sounds of Klaxons. He morphs into a Mexican magic bean as the giant flashing lights poles thrash and moan to the delivery of Klaxons sound experiments. Glow sticks are adding to the light show as they are thrown towards Jamie Reynolds' head.

Questions always need asking:

Why has Gareth Jenkins performed so bad as Welsh coach? Why oh why didn't CSS end the show?

The world of music twists and turns. The pioneers are to be found in exotic corners of the globe like Sweden and Iceland. South America has always thrown together exhilarating magicians who dismantle the a-b-c sounds of instruments and relay on passion.

CSS (the abbreviation of Cansei de Ser Sexy: translated as Tired of Being Sexy - a cutting homage to an air-head Beyonce quote) is lead by Lovefoxxx. All of the sexual references have substantial foundations. The crowd of fantasy rebels were captivated by Lovefoxxx ripping off her vibrant colours to the orgasmic beats and pounding of her band’s instruments. Magic is a trick of the mind in the West, where disillusionists hang in clear glass cages. In Brazil magic travels through the streets of São Paulo and clings on to a group of friends. Collectively their sound rings and hops between a pulsating rendition of ‘No Limit’ (Let’s Reach for the Sky!) towards the bass and groove of ‘Music is My Hot Hot Sex’ their instruments creating a vibe that Cuban legends Buena Vista Social Club pioneer.

Lights illuminate the ending notes of the Klax and everyone runs home to Mam for some Hot chocolate.

ｩ 2007 Paul Griffiths

© Miwsig