Playlouder - Music is the Network

Ah, Slimelight – “I know a place where we can go Where we are not known”. The grubby goth night at Electrowerkz is one of the few places you can go dressed as a Forte Travelodge gimp or a disgraced Persian princess and no one will bat a false eyelash. And yet you're unlikely to “go home and cry and want to die” because on a night out at Slimelight you're bound to encounter so many people unhappier than you that on the whole it's an inevitably uplifting experience. It's a place I go for a bit of Jamie time, as I can guarantee that whoever I might be seeing there, there's definitely nobody I know who'd want to accompany me.

After all, watching a coven of goth tarts pretending to disembowel their friend and doing sexy dancing to bad metal isn't everyone's cup of tea. I'm not sure it's mine to be honest but the Satanic Sluts definitely make an impression, and leave one feeling decidedly uncomfortable.

Avoidance of Doubt's manifesto is to rid the world of 'norm' music by some industrial goth metal, a bit of screaming, a one woman Satanic Sluts, and a front man who is to Marilyn Manson what Carnage is to Venom (less depth, more impact, ask your Comic Book Geek friend). They spend an amusing amount of time bitching about their glitchy laptop and manage to produce a couple of decent screamalong goth pop songs along the way.

I couldn't remember the name of the band before Avoidance of Doubt, but have been informed that they're 

The Courtesans

. They were a bit naff. Perhaps if Dresden Dolls had grown up in Grange Hill or Kate Nash had attended Miss Cackle's Academy for Witches there'd be some obvious reference points, but as it is I'm too lazy to detail their misdemeanors: suffice to say it'd be cruel for me to expand.

So, Inkubus Sukkubus, the main event. I've been yearning for a chance to catch these guys live since I mistakenly picked up 'The Beast With Two Backs' from Martian Records, Exeter, 2003, thinking they were a Cradle of Filth style “black” metal band. Finding them to be an unlikely but consistent pop-goth songwriting machine and completely and utterly stuck in a time warp of their own invention, I found there to be something incredibly endearing about Inkubus Sukkubus. How many songs can you write about Pan, the injustices of the Catholic church, and seasonal pagan festivals? Well, the answer, fortunately, is shitloads, and while there is never any significant fluctuation in quality to IS's material, the formula can begin to grate if you're not in the mood.

The combination of drum machines, bass, guitar and Candia's (admittedly decent and characterful) voice would seem to be a pretty limiting one, but fortunately the band have a knack for hooks and melody, and watching Tony McKormack (a sort of Sid-Vicious-then-meets-Ian-Hunter-now figure) wailing on his guitar and Candia Ridley gyrating in black leather (more classic and dignified than comparative garments that have graced this stage) one can't help but feel a tremendous attachment to them, and respect for them. They're the rebellious aunt and uncle I never had. They've invented their own reality, and reached a modest number of people in a lot of places in a way that no other band could.

From the big beardy old men to the leather-clad, off-the-rails cyber goth girls (both equally intimidating), there's nobody not willing to raise their devil horns in salute and chant “Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna...” till they're hoarse.

'Hecate, Cerridwyn', 'Song to Pan', 'Catherine', and 'Wytches' are all stand-outs, not to mention a cracking cover of The Stones' 'Paint it Black', and you know they've albums' worth of equally great numbers they could have played. Frankly, I can't wait for next time.