Ah yes, that age old conundrum of journalistic integrity - how is it possible for someone to write objectively about bands that they in some way have an interest in? All of the bands featured in this review played at the Joyzine/Rhesus organised Relief Week (a review of which can be found here), so I guess it would be easy to throw accusations of impartiality my way. However, I'm going to take the line given by Steve Lamacq when he was slated for playing bands from his own Deceptive label on the Evening Session - If I didn't think that each of these bands were fantastic, they wouldn't have been booked in the first place.

We may as well get the big one out of the way first: Rhesus, a band without whom Relief Week just wouldn't have been possible. Their singer Jim organised the week with me, and his contagious enthusiasm and positive attitude helped to get us through the moments when it all looked like it might go belly up. Not just that, but they played at three of the five shows, wowing crowds at the 100 Club, 93 Feet East and Brixton Windmill with their electrifying brand of updated 70s punk, which thankfully manages to steer clear of sounding like the hordes of 'The' bands currently pillaging the same source of inspiration.

Rhesus have come a long way since recording their debut single 'Art is Dead' (out on Fruitbat of Carter USM and Abdoujaparov fame's Spinach Records). Now they are almost unrecognisable as the same band - they're tighter, faster, louder and far, far better than I had ever imagined they would become, and in a way it's a shame that this single wasn't recorded a few months later.

Live, 'Art is Dead' has become an anthemic blast of bile spitting punk. On record it maintains that same attitude and energy, and rattles through its shouty choruses and quick fingered solos like a runaway train.

However its on the b-sides that Rhesus really show us what they're capable of - 'Too Weak' snarls and screams its way through three and a half minutes of clanging guitars and scuzzy bass, eclipsing its a-side completely, only to be bettered itself by the wondrous 'Eat Your Own Young', which is catapulted along on the filthiest bassline since Ikara Colt called it a day - guitars crackle menacingly in the background, and disorted vocals bellow out from beneath the murk.

Finally, we get a video for 'Art Is Dead' (along with some photos, including a couple from Joyzine), which starts off looking like an explosion in a Photoshop filters factory, before gaining a little more composure - the jerky transition of fuzzy black and white photography of anti-war protests, tower blocks and live performances capturing the feel of the track perfectly.
www.rhesus.info

Ciccone appeared on the music scene at exactly the wrong time - just too late for Britpop and just too early for the 'New Rock Revolution' and the current wave of London-based art-punks of variable quality. It just goes to show the importance of good timing, as Ciccone have gone almost ignored, despite taking the best elements of both what came before and what followed and merging them into a spiky tune filled romp, while inferior bands have been commanding front covers and double page spreads proclaiming them the saviours of music.

Such misfortune and injustice might have crippled a weaker band, but Ciccone retain their self belief throughout - eschewing gimmickry and bandwagon jumping to just concentrate on what they do best - writing shimmering indie guitar pop songs, then covering them in a layer of South London grime, and debut album 'Eversholt Street', written, performed, recorded and produced in their bedroom at the titular address, showcases their extraordinary way with a hummable tune.

Album highlight, and recent single 'Look at you Now' features sassy vocals from Rebekah Delgado combined with jaunty rhythms and the type of chorus that sticks in your head weeks after having heard it, while 'Put Me to Bed' is a dreamy nursery rhyme, which brings to mind the long forgotten splendour of the similarly under appreciated Linoleum.

The girl/boy vocals provided by Rebekah and bandmate Micky offer up plenty of variety - Rebekah's sultry purr contrasting with Micky's more rough and ready drawl to great effect, and when the band up the tempo for the barbed guitars and acid tongued vocal lashes of 'F.U.U.K' it's impossible to envisage Ciccone staying in the sidelines for much longer.
www.ciccone.co.uk
Watch the video for 'Look at You Now' on our Downloads page

The Patty Winters Show split opinion at the Metro leg of Relief, and on the basis of the two demos that I've received from them, they look set to continue to do so. Musically, there's not a lot to argue with - the guitars soar and swoop in all the right places, jerking angularly on 'Delusions of Grandeur', and shimmering beautifully on 'Cul-De-Sac' and they play the quiet/loud formula with perfect timing throughout.

Where some people will take exception to them however, is in the vocals - Like Morrissey, Brian Molko and Brett Anderson before him, PWS frontman Tom Argent has the kind of voice that you either love or hate: it's flat and fairly monotone, and is backed by a completely contrasting backing from bassist Kirsty Fife, whose high pitched trill floats dreamily in the background. Personally, I think it works brilliantly and sets the band apart from the legions of moderately interesting indie bands that swamp my mail box every day, but there are going to be plenty of people who will beg to differ. Make up your own mind by going to our downloads page and listening to the three tracks from their first demo.
www.thepattywintersshow.com

Forced to sit in the background while your more famous bandmate receives all of the plaudits - no, not the story of Graham Coxon, but of his drummer, Stuffy G, whose other band Stuffy and the Fuses headlined our first Relief gig, at Lock 17. Apparently it was a scorching exhibition in stand up drumming, crowd rambling and explosive indie punk, but I wouldn't know, as I was stuck on door duty at the time with only an electric heater for company.

A chance to catch up came in the form of S&tF (as I shall awkwardly refer to them from this point on)'s debut album 'Join Me or Die', featuring a personalised ice cream van (I want one!) on the cover, and 12 tracks of eclectic indie rock on the cd.

Opener 'Evil Kneivel' is a head clearing blast of furious guitar, while 'I Can See Yr Machine' is a charmingly clunky chunk of indie eccentricity with a remarkable resemblance to (shh! whisper it...) Blur, and recent single 'Where's The Captain' is a fine example of dynamic guitar pop, complete with freaky backing vocals, that recalls Supergrass before middle age set in.

There are one or two miss-hits here - 'Sleeping' fills up almost six minutes without ever really going anywhere, and 'Friend', which again echoes Blur, builds and builds towards a climax which never quite appears.

However, in the main it's pretty impressive stuff, and with a new album in the pipeline being recorded with legendary noise monger Steve Albini, Stuffy G may yet step out of the shadows of his more famous band mate yet.
www.stuffyandthefuses.net

Reviews by Paul Madden - Yes there's more - part three coming next week.
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