Rose Kemp, 16th jan

The bus is six minutes late. This is pretty impressive for a Bristol bus so I don't mind so much, it's just that it's really cold and windy tonight. I find a torch on the bus and although I debate stealing it, by the end of the journey the conscience has persuaded me to hand it to the driver, who I'm sure now has a spare one at home.

Anyway, first outing of the year, first look at the 'recently' refurbished Thekla Social and it seems alright, a bit more spacious although there is a poor showing of proper beer at the bar. Just don't get me started on lager!

There is a fairly young-looking hippy rock band on when I finally make it downstairs after wandering about a bit, trying various doors that I remembered leading somewhere that now do not. They are called Countryside and this is exactly what they sound like. Melodic synthesisers and sixties rock ideals permeate the music that has grandiose moments of blissful distortion and lovely close harmonies. It's poppy and rocky and mostly cheerful.

Underground Railroad

Underground Railroad are a London/Paris threepiece who play anarchic, fast shouty punk that occasionally packs a serious heavy rocking punch. They all share vocal duties and it isn't let down by the bassist's insistence on wearing a banana costume, not really. Normally I don't like this kind of noise, the guitar parts always seem as if it doesn't matter what you play, it's how you play it. But there are times when it all comes together and the whole makes a sort of sense.

Rose Kemp

Rose Kemp blows out all the cobwebs, nothing else in the world is relevant when this girl sings, even when the band - or the acoustics on the boat - drown her out. The looper goes on strike a little bit but the songs are still powerful, heavy, beautiful and the stage sports one of the biggest collection of pedals I've seen at a gig - I swear they get more each time I see them! At the end, Rose introduces Sing Our Last Goodbye as Flawless but I'm sure nobody noticed. After all the loud rock her pure pitch-perfect singing lulls the room to silence and it is all over, too soon, again.

Rose Kemp