Funk me, he won’t do what they tell him. Ultra-grumpy Glaswegian Rico has done his back in tonight but that doesn’t stop him putting on a top demonstration of tortured gymnastics. His hair’s an oil slick, his spine’s a whip and he doesn’t so much sing as projectile vomit mind bile at the awestruck groovers.
Set opener ‘This And That’ consists of Rico screaming a list of things he’d like to say ‘fuck you’ to. One wonders initially why he’s so worked up about the likes of Lois Lane and Ringo Starr but eventually he gets round to giving the finger to the Council Tax and rock’n’roll and by then the band’s mighty, pseudo-hip-hop-meets-rock grind has taken over.
So Rico‘s a bit dark, right. Like a black hole basted in tar. But vitally, the band grooves as well as rocking out in a compressed ’90s Led Zeppelin fashion.
It’s what a child locked in a cellar with only Rage Against The Machine‘s ‘Killing In The Name’ would produce on escaping, but better.
He ends the set screaming into the broiling beats, “Attack me! Attack me!” and holding his head in his hands like someone who’s just murdered his mummy.
Is Rico any good? Does Marilyn Manson wear scary trousers? Does Rico rhyme with psycho?