Issue 73 / Dec 2016/Jan 2017

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Bido Lito! Dec 2016/Jan 2017 Reviews
Malcom In The Middle (minus the morph suit,
I’m not brave enough), I speed back to catch a
glimpse of the hour-long Prince and Michael
Jackson sets, where grooves spill over the floor.
With legendary spinner JOHN MORALES
beginning his set, I moonwalk on over to the
Great Baltic Warehouse, indulging in a bit of
Dutch courage to help me get my two-step on.
Morales treats us to a two-hour set of classic
after classic, with stand-out tracks like his own
edit of Jackie Moore’s This Time Baby and Rufus
& Chaka Khan’s Ain’t Nobody giving the crowd
full of flared pants and antenna-popped collars
exactly what they’re looking for.
Before the main attraction of the day,
ODYSSEY, I decide to weave from venue to venue
to check out artists that catch my eye. Over in
Constellations’ garden, DOWN TO FUNK are
doing exactly what it says on the tin, warming
the crowd and keeping them fists pumping.
SPEN & KARIZMA offer up some thumping
house beats to those wanting that heavier
get down, all the while social sardines pack
into the Gin Garden, surrounded by plumes of
smoke, chatter and fist bumps; if only this could
be the soundtrack of life. Throughout the day,
one thing remains constant: in every venue the
crowd are ready to jive to their heart’s content.
With queues snaking out the door for
Odyssey, the party vibes look ready to continue.
It’s a special moment to witness Steven Collazo
lead his legendary seven-piece band into this
magnificent setting, and he begins by greeting
us with a “Can I get a Hallelujah?!” You certainly
can. Aside from hits like Native New Yorker and
Back To My Roots, it’s the show of guitar solos,
bass slapping, keyboard flexing and vocal
melodies that really create that special crowd
interaction that seems to connect everyone
in the room. It truly does feel as if we are
witnessing the Odyssey of the late 70s.
Mythical Southport Weekenders have been
the subject of house-garage duo MASTERS AT
WORK before, and as the sun descends and the
disco ball takes over, LOUIE VEGA and KENNY
GONZALEZ shift the pace of the night before
people take their groove on over to the myriad
after parties. Unfortunately, my legs can take
no more disco and I retire my skates for another
year.
FUCKED UP
EVOL @ EBGBS
Elliott Clay
Earning their reputation as a live band of
unique intensity and ferocity, FUCKED UP have
long been regarded as one of the best acts on
the circuit. After over a decade of rampant live
shows (including a particularly memorable
one in this city only a year ago) and a string of
vibrant and ecstatic albums, the Toronto natives
are in town to mark the 10-year anniversary of
their debut LP, Hidden World, which they will
perform tonight in its entirety. Straddling the
divisions between hardcore, post-punk and
pop, the album was revelatory to those new to
Liverpool Disco Festival (Paul McCoy / photomccoy.tumblr.com)
punk and those who had grown up with it alike.
Despite tonight’s show having been moved
from its original location of the Invisible Wind
Factory, there are few venues in the city that
seem more perfectly suited to Fucked Up’s
brand of pop-tinged hardcore than down in the
basement of the newly re-developed EBGBs.
Offering a new medium-sized venue to a city
that’s sadly seen the closure of many of its
most loved spaces in the past few years, its
dark, sweaty and claustrophobic space seems
like it was built with nights like this in mind.
This being an underground cavern, the
temperature has quickly risen and by the time
Fucked Up (repping local skate label Mersey
Grit T-shirts) take to the stage, the crowd
are a powder keg waiting to be lit. Once the
chugging riffs of album opener Crusades kick
in, frontman Pink Eyes’ (AKA Damian Abraham)
infectious energy works them into a sweaty
frenzy. With a repertoire of mic tricks and
stage poses honed from thousands of hours
of live shows, Mr. Eyes has the front row of
hardcore fans eating from his hand, throwing
themselves into each other and screaming
along to each and every word. Abraham
exudes the type of energy that the best kind
of punk music has the potential to bring out
of people: aggressive, explosive but inclusive,
celebratory and cathartic. His relationship with
the audience brings everyone into the fold. He
looks audience members straight in the eye,
passes them the mic to sing along and even
offers out hugs. The cumulative effect of this
back and forth between performer and the
crushing mass of audience is a joy to behold.