Stuffy/The Fuses - King's College, London, 5/12/2006

  by Sarah Maybank

published: 7 / 1 / 2007

intro

At a show at King's College in London, Sarah Maybank enjoys the all-out assault of fuzzed-up gunfire riffs and impossible to dance to rhythms of art rockers and end of the pier humourists, Stuffy/The Fuses

“No one tells me what to do,” sniffs Steven ‘Stuffy’ Gilchrist in reference to a pre-show guest list glitch, which he resolves as speedily as a guillotine despatching a French aristocrat. He’s appearing tonight supporting the Brakes and Tiny Dancers. Third on the bill status: star of the show attitude. Step aside, newly PR-friendly Johnny Borrell. Your vacancy has been filled. And how. Stuffy/The Fuses are all about doing it their way. If your indie party faves are epic (Killers), glam (Long Blondes), dance-your-nuts-off frantic (Klaxons), or northern and a bit sarcastic (Arctics) this lot are lurking in the corner, trousering the Steve Albini collection and lobbing breezeblocks at the DJ. Drifting on-stage unannounced, dressed in dead-leaf shades of brown, dark olive and, black, Stuffy/The Fuses are to audience-friendly styling what napalm is to skin care. Overalled in gothic pharmacist-style black shirtdresses, guitarist Jen and keyboardist Lucy Fuse are Wednesday Addams scary. Bassist Jon Fuse out-scruffs Kurt Cobain, and curly-topped Stuffy, stage-front, and alternately battering the crap out of his drum kit and sharing droll bon mots with the audience, is a young Jeremy Clarkson. But funny. Live, they’re an all-out assault of fuzzed-up gunfire riffs and impossible to dance to rhythms - pure heaven for anyone who wants to take a flamethrower to ‘indie’ bands focus-grouped into skinny jeans and Converse All Stars. Imagine a rogue Pixies riff strapped to a three-legged donkey on Ritalin, clattering through an alley full of metal dustbins. Raw as fresh shark kill, they are a perfect soundtrack for torturing younger siblings to (usual disclaimers apply), with each song so short, it’d take more time to pour a pint of lager or split up with your boyfriend. Go on, time yourself and see. But, cannily, they know a thing or two about light relief, sugaring the brutality with sweet Supremes style wooh woohs, throwing in a dreamy lullaby, and cheeking things up with end of the pier humour: "This is about a problem King’s College students might have" quips Stuffy, announcing 'If Sir Wants Sex'. And any band that hosts a mid-set competition in which an audience member wins a prize – and a hug from Stuffy - if they can name Jen Fuse’s favourite animal. Well, they’ll always get our vote even if they announce a "more Westlife vibe" as their new career direction. The photographs that accompany this article were taken by Bob Stuart and originally appeared on his website wwww.underexposed.org.uk

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