Cardiff Clwb Ifor Bach

..he's making the leap into the 'live' arena, he's opted for a cross between[a]Lo-Fidelity Allstars[/a] and an Eastern European gameshow. We don't know why...

A cloth hanging of Elvis with the eyes punched out rests on top of the speaker stack, watching benignly as the [I]Play School[/I] idiocy unfolds below. A man wearing a giant Smiley head sits stage-left. Presently he gets up to enact catalogue model poses, while [a]Sgt. Rock[/a] busies himself with looping the sticky acid breaks. Someone else wearing a Kendo Nagasaki mask ([I]Er, seminal Brit wrestler – sportz Ed[/I]) wanders up to the mic. He seems to have something to say.


Well, what were you expecting? [a]Sgt. Rock[/a] is a man whose eclectic DJ sets have previously aroused the interest of, ooh, dozens of amyl-crazed 20-somethings; now he’s making the leap into the ‘live’ arena, he’s opted for a cross between Lo-Fidelity Allstars and an Eastern European gameshow. We don’t know why.

Yet even after the initial whiplash of bafflement, the whole thing feels so [I]right[/I]. Debut Wiiija single ‘Yeah Word Party’, like its predecessor ‘Superdickie’, is a brilliantly fruggable, biscuit-tin big beat concoction for people who find Fatboy Slim a little too sophisticated. As old-skool acid revivals go, this locates the scene’s heart with far more precision than the usual Day-Glo wankery.

So it’s stupid. But as Smiley attempts to drink his pint, before remembering that he doesn’t have a mouth, the message seems to be: aren’t we all?