An Gath Vlewek - Gwyngala 2017

Blastin' out from our Invertebrate Transmitters with valves aglow to push out the sound through pulsing glass, wire, cardboard and ebony-wood cabinets, all ashake and arumble.  The popping cones of the speakers bark and tapes spool, spiel and unreel, running on crackling acetate and glistening obsidian shellac - sounds shaped by city-hands, chilly hands, fingers stiff, plucking at E-strings and rattling the snare - a snarl and a stream of sweat show sincerity and 'No Surrender' daubed on walls of grimy brick our creed-

Hey - that's no calypso!  ('orse-mout' on drums)





One Love!

Underneath The Yellow Lights

THE PUNK JUNK SKUNKS

A wave of musical anarchy/amphetamine/adrenaline that 

changed Britain, and the World, forever. 

From the tower-blocks and dole-queues of London, back in the mid-seventies, was born a new monster, a creature that would turn against the hallowed gods of rock with a frenzied rending and rapid four/four phrasing, barked out against a backdrop of exploding chaos to a crowd of raging maniacs.  This beast would soon consume all in its path and infiltrate all corners of the industry before spawning a nebulous cluster of styles that would reverberate into the next century. Punk bubbled up from the streets like cess from a ruptured sewer and soon its heady fragrance filled the airwaves and blasted from the turntables of countless teenage bedrooms.  The monster was at large - waking up England and kicking over the odd apple-cart along the way.

and we don't care...

It's So Grey In London Town

The sheer force of the music was like a wall of concrete breaking over you.  Bodies moving like an ocean - when the crowd surged you surged.  There was gonna be an explosion - nothing was ever gonna be the same again.  

There was an explosion - nothing was ever the same again.