Gentlemen Rebels

The Croft is a wonderfully deceptive venue. As you pass through the entrance you emerge into a world of mood lighting, cushy sofas and low tables. The majority of the clientele are quietly sipping their drinks and it looks, well, very civilised and, at a glance, very trendy. But something is wrong here! Some of the bar staff look more intimidating than the bouncers, the speakers vomit deep electronic music and across the walls there are black and white photographs of heavily perspiring young men screaming into microphones.

At nine o’clock I take my chances and walk to the back of the venue, a black and red hole that houses most of the live music at the Croft. This is another world. It looks, and smells, like an illicit underground boxing ring cum gothic theatre with a PA. There are no chairs and I daren’t lean against the wall for fear of becoming permanently stuck, so I stand and wait for the band. This may sound like a bad trip into Hades, but I feel this is how it should be. The grime, the antiquated speaker system and the lack of adequate seating are testament to a hard working venue that, squeezing in six bands a week, just hasn’t got the time to scrape the beer, glass and teeth from the floor. In doing so the Croft produces an instant and intimate atmosphere once the lights go down...

I am here to watch the Gentlemen Rebels, a little known band who advertise themselves as ‘world, funk, hip-hop’ and as they start to play, minus lead vocalist Dom Coyote, it is dismaying to see less than 30 audience members. This doesn’t seem to affect their performance tonight, however, and as Dom adjusts his cap and jumps on stage he starts singing, slowly swaying, in a sea of thick, ethereal delay. The sound slowly grows with Matt’s soft backing. The two start to strut and sing in umbilical rhythm. There is a solid groove to this band that is infectious, thanks to a rhythm section that flows beautifully between time changes and, for the most part, is tighter than Iggy Pop’s trousers. Ollie smashes the shit out of his kit while Lee walks all over the fretboard of his bass, each oozing a cool confidence rarely seen in an unsigned band.

Guitarist Tim effortlessly adds to the funk, then, incredibly, breaks into a barrage of screeching effects, elevating the pitch to ear splitting resonance, and taking the feel of the music to a higher plain. It is good to see the band adding an experimental edge to this already diverse act.

The saxophone, provided by Lewis, roars through the PA, and is complemented by sweet, succulent counter melody from Matt’s clarinet. Some of the breakdowns are worthy of James Brown, bottom lip bitingly funky and simultaneously more aggressive, magically inspiring the meagre crowd to boogie, skank, mosh, jump and, bizarrely, Russian dance to the beat. The additional eclectic dashings of hot jazz, soul, and ska-punk here are such that the variety of dancing is to be expected and relished.

The band execute interesting variations in time signature, proving themselves as skilled musicians, but this is not what gets the crowd moving. The thing that resonates and entertains most of all is the sense of theatre that the Gentlemen Rebels provide. Dom’s voice slips between staccato hip-hop, eloquent spoken word and dreamy, eastern vocals, with lyrics indiscernible through mantric effects. It is not harsh and aggressive like so many rappers, but humane, individual and extremely powerful. Dom is mesmerising to watch as he moves awkwardly, clutching his side, eyes rolled back into his skull, and at one stage losing his hat in a moment of musical possession.

It is clear the entire band is having a great fun, and there are smiles throughout as the band end their set. A loud Bristolian, (and instigator of the Russian dance,) pipes up, “That were f*ckin’ brilliant that” and the crowd beg for an encore. It comes in the form of ‘Keep the Fire Burning’, which is another slow building number with an explosive finale. Dom eggs the audience into a frenzy before summoning more beasts from within, conjuring a deep, throatal roar like a deranged necromancer.

The set is not without error. There are some issues with the timing of some of the endings and breaks, the guitar is experiencing technical difficulties and cannot often be heard. Also some of the clarinet and backup vocals could sometimes do with polishing. I see a band playing at 70-80% of their usual zest, but trying their best in front of a limited crowd. The by-product of more influences than I can possibly mention, (certainly exceeding the comparatively limited description of ‘world, funk, hip-hop’), there is the potential here for a very exciting, charismatic and intelligent band.

FUTURE GIGS

sorry, we currently have no gigs listed for this act.