It had been a wee while since resident country-punks Brakes had stormed their hometown of Brighton, so it was with open arms and rampant enthusiasm that the gallant four piece were welcomed on stage by a near full capacity crowd on this chilly autumn night.
When it comes to good old fashioned balls-out rock ‘n’ roll, these guys have every box ticked. Stupidly flashy drummer, check. Buckets of sweat, yep. Awesome riffs, er… hell yeah!
Put simply, having entered the venue a (now slightly ashamed) Brakes virgin, this unassuming young gent was more or less completely astounded by the band’s exhilarating blend of punk rock riffs and country dance flare. This boundlessly energetic sound could well be the result of a gloriously sordid (and most likely alcohol fuelled) orgy between Weezer and Idlewild, the aftermath including a bitter legal battle for custody of the illegitimate and unequivocally rockin’ love child.
Singer Eamon Hamilton’s earthy voice spews catchy limericks and clever plays on words through the Komedia’s sound system, which are eagerly returned by the ecstatic home crowd. This is undoubtedly one of Brakes strongest points, simple sing-along choruses that, once heard, stay with you from then on; an all too rare yet obviously essential obligation for any band. Every single tune goes down an absolute storm, with crowd favourites ‘Get Me A Pony’ and ‘Don’t take Me To Space (Man)’ sparking country jig’s and mosh pits in equal measure.
Guitarist Tom White is perfectly cast as the duel front man; thrashing his guitar with such ferocity and vigour it’s a wonder he manages to keep hold of the damn thing! White is also the comedian of the group, being the first to proclaim that he’s “rocked too hard too early”, meaning he’s played a few songs out of tune. It doesn’t matter though. The whole event is gloriously trashy, which makes a refreshing change from the often all too polished performances of the current Brighton music scene.
The sad thing is that there just aren’t enough bands like this anymore. Brakes are one of Brighton’s best home-grown acts and a brazen throwback to the glory days of rock and roll when songs were good, image didn’t matter and bands were united by a singular purpose; to have a bloody good time.
Words by Jimmy Volts
