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Fluffer Records Put on a Night to Remember

Fluffer Records Put on a Night to Remember

By: Josie Faulkner

Fluffer Records put on a night to remember – smoke machines, punk bands, sweat, booze and a pit. Brilliant.

When it comes to live shows, there’s nothing quite as intimate as a pit party. Now on their third show, Fluffer Records has enlisted the likes of God Damn and Heck to kick things off with a bang, and tonight Bad Girlfriend, Sexwolf!, Virgin Kids and Bad Breeding aim to bring the chaos just as much as before. 

Fluffer has certainly ticked all the boxes for a pit party. Cue annoying tall kid headbanging hard enough to give himself a concussion so that you want to punch him in the back of the head, cheap booze, smoke machine and a collection of loud punk bands who are destined to give you a headache for days…in a good way. 

Openers Bad Girlfriend are the slow starters of the night, attempting to not a give a shit and be shocking with, glaringly obvious, statements like: “David Cameron is a cunt”. They’re pretending not to know what song to play next, which feels so forced that it all falls a bit flat, inciting awkward glances from a few in the crowd. They race through their droney, bass heavy set to a room barely full, with equally forced punky vocals to match.

Luckily all is saved as Birmingham-based Sexwolf! launch into their brand of fun, doomy hardcore. Barely visible through the smoke, lead vocalist Richard Phillips sheds his tuxedo jumper to reveal a tight fitting, tie-dyed vest top, before attempting to strip down to his boxers, but fails as his trousers wrap themselves around his ankles. Well, there is supposed to be chaos here right? Doomy bass licks meld with fuzzy guitar riffs that are more than welcome, and the threat of a pit starts to form as the band prance around the floor, while that annoying kid tries to take centre stage by running around the room – someone please punch him.

Meanwhile, the chaotic scene we’ve all been waiting for ensues to the gruff throes of Virgin Kids, whose Black Lips-style guitar, and vocal pairing from Asher Preston, has the crowd engulfing the floor space, forcing them to ask everyone to take two steps back in order to carry on with the show. 

Through the thick stage smoke (even though there is no stage), Bad Breeding close the night to a 150 capacity room gone absolutely mental. The vocals are barely audible over the din of fast paced, scuzzy punk backing, but no one seems to care as the secret London location erupts into one giant pit. What’s evident here tonight is that this isn’t just about the music. Where else would you be able leave all the shit from the week at the door, sweat nose-to-nose with one of your favourite underground punk bands (perhaps witnessing some tongue-in-cheek wit), headbang to some grueling guitar melodies and ultimately kick the shit out of each other? And it works… oh, Fluffer records, how it works.

Copyright Keira Anee 2016