60: Drenge: Undertow

Recently I walked past the once agreeable (and astonishingly still open) Witchwood live venue in Ashton and saw that it was advertising an upcoming gig by a Royal Blood tribute act. While at the time I of course despaired at the obvious signal of the end of days and wept openly in the street, looking back it might have only been indicating an appearance from Drenge (fucking ‘Drenge‘??), those other two horseman of the indie-rock apocalypse. Depressingly by-the-numbers ‘rock’ attempts, one half-decent riff swamped in distortion while the singer barks out nonsense lyrics that are cack-handed attempts at sounding ‘dark’. Dull, dull, dull, dull, dull.

‘Fun’ Fact: Drenge hail from Castleton, which you more than likely visit every 29th May for ‘Oak Apple Day’, where a ‘Garland King’ is paraded around the streets wearing an extremely large garland of flowers, followed by local girls dressed in white with flowers. I can only assume the ceremony ends with the ‘Garland King’ being burnt alive in a giant wicker apple.

Come on man, I want to get my Guitar Hero on, there must be something good for me to rock out to: I don’t hate Never Awake‘, probably due to it being played on 6 Music eight times an hour for the past ten months

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