Goldhawks
02.12.09
Goldhawks are a London five-piece fronted by Bobby Cook, who, two years ago released, under his own name, the single Deja Vu. With a change of name and a change of sound they are back with the single Running Away. Hesaidshesaid went down to the barfly to see them on Wednesday.
http://www.myspace.com/goldhawks
He Said
Sat alone in bars studying the zoo like creatures that inhabited the cages of Camden is truly a spectator sport. It has quickly become a past time of mine while I wait for her, it's a chance to observe the cast of characters that live and breathe these streets. They're the hood rats, street urchins and cocaine cavaliers that wizz, bang and wallop of the walls of every day life. I pass the time with idle chit chat with a man with the words 'beans' tattooed on his forehead he makes no reference to it throughout the whole conversation and I don't see a need.
As the Guinness is finished she appears in the door way elegantly attired but utterly sodden. I can't help but be utterly charmed by the way she strides to bar, necks a half and marches us out into the rain.
We sit down to talk to Goldhawks upstairs in the barfly. They are a five piece but we get to only speak to three of them. These three I assume are well versed raconteurs who dish out bohemian bon motts with the greatest of ease.
But before we could share witty repartee she had to ask some questions about vampires which went down like a swallowed razor blade. Sweeping up the awkward silences I ask them how their recent New York jaunt went and if there were any tensions being in a band of brothers.
'We don't argue about girlfriends'
A sharper response than I had been expecting really, I further probe on the touring conditions.
'There was a time in the YMCA but we don't want to talk about that'
I'm not one to cast aspersions but there is something a foot in Goldhawks and its more Jezza Kyle than Hesaidshesaid.
The hours between the interview and gig are lost in drip trays of The Steele's. I convince her that eating is cheating and the night is ours to be won. After getting lost in the cubicles for longer than is healthy we make way back to the Barfly.
All things considered I was bollocksed and everything I did seemed to separate me further away from the sober folk back on planet FUCKING BORING. Arms failing around me I resemble an epileptic energizer bunny.
The music is average indie fair, you can't fault them for effort or intensity, but nor can you credit them for bringing anything particularly new to the table. As a live offering they tick all the boxes but they seem to think well within it when writing their songs.
She Said
My dad always says you have until your 27 to mess up your body before you have to do something about it. I have three months to go so it's only polite to take this advice as gospel.
This is England and its December so it was shitting it down. Every time I pressed heel to pavement I heard the glug glug glug of water painfully seeping into my shoes - probably 37% dog piss. I met him at his usual residence, the pub. Pulled at his sleeve and marched him to the door.
Me - 'Don't you have an umbrella?'
Him - 'Umbrella's are for gays and Rhianna.'
He flung the door open. Torrential rain flattened his laboured quiff. He grabbed my umbrella swiftly.
The interview with the band was scheduled ridiculously early. They sat on the sofa above Barfly expectantly looking at us as if we knew what we were doing (if you haven't got this already - we don't). All I knew about them is that they played at the opening of the New Moon party.
Me - 'Did you meet Robert Patterson?'
Them - 'No'
Me - 'Did you see him or even get anywhere near him?'
Them - 'No'
I lost interest at this point. Luckily HE was in his element and they got in a great conversation about music and stuff. I started to notice they were wondering why I was even there so I nonchalantly asked them:
Me - 'So where do you see this new release going? Number 1?'
Them - 'Well... We think that's a little ambitious'
Me - 'If you could support any band in the world who would it be?'
Them - 'U2'
Interesting. Anyway so there was a three hour wait till the actual gig so we went to The Steele's. With so much time on our hands this location was probably not the best idea.
Me - 'We should eat some dinner.'
Him - 'Fuck that. Let's just spend our money on beer'.
He is like the devil on my shoulder and I agreed without pause. By the time 9.45 came around we were drunk, jabbering, fools. The PR woman who met us at the door was actually scared of us. His gesticulations had got completely out of control and I'd started to leave a 2 meter barrier around his perimeter.
The Goldhawks are really nice boys. But I'd kind of felt like I'd seen it before. Even my accomplices ridiculous dancing could not lift excitement. They will probably do well, they've supported the amazing Temper Trap and have a growing fan base in America. But give me Luke Kook any day.
