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Who The Hell Are… We//Are//Animal?

By |February 4th, 2011|Categories: Features, Who the Hell Are|Tags: , , , |

The arrival of their four digit debut single "1268" caused seismic speaker-blowing waves in the Webcuts offices in 2010. It truly was, and still is, a "What the fuck was that?" moment. It was in essence, Gang of Four meets LCD Soundsystem in an abandoned factory in North Wales. An electro pulse and surging beat, sheet metal guitars, inimitable Welsh vocals, it had 'post-punk dancefloor smash' writ large all over it, and had We//Are//Animal been from London instead of Wales, everybody would've been knocking down their door, kneeling to kiss their cossetted behinds (cough The Vaccines).

The Scare – On Tour With The Scare in Australia (2009)

By |October 15th, 2009|Categories: Interviews|Tags: , , , , , , , |

A first (and probably last) for Webcuts as we jump in the back of a tour van and hit the road with ex-Brisbane trouble makers, now Sydney's problem, The Scare, as they attempt to corrupt the people of Melbourne with their new 'voodoo, and nothing, not even the death of Michael Jackson, was going to get in their way.

Ramona – London – 17 April 2011

By |April 28th, 2011|Categories: Live Reviews|Tags: , , , |

It's easy to love Ramona, even though everything about them is so flawless and en pointe, unheard for a scruffy bunch of Brighton by-way-of-New-York rockers. Picks in hand, they transform a handful of chords into polished punk perfection, fronted by the coquettish bleach-blonde tomboy Karen Anne, a second generation Edie and Debbie who knows how to hang from a mic stand like she was hanging from your shoulder. Absent from the stage this year so far, they cycle through their set in a brisk half hour, including encore, and you're crying out for a flubbed note, an unrehearsed run through a song they just wrote in the van, or general indifference to whether anybody is listening.

Who The Hell Are… Zoo Animal?

By |December 21st, 2010|Categories: Features, Who the Hell Are|Tags: , , , |

Picture the scene... in a dark Minneapolis jazz club, three anonymous musicians take the stage. The usual rituals of tuning and testing, smiling and carrying on, and then the lead singer steps up to the microphone. It only takes a few songs to appreciate the underestimated prowess of the band; the churning bass, the precision in the drumming, and a fiesty singer whose melancholy adroitness shines through her toned-down Joplin-esque voice and ferocious, half-prostrated guitar solos. This is Holly Newsom and Zoo Animal, a band marked by a soulful yet minimal electrofolk sound and introspective, sometimes spiritual lyrics.

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