Peel Slowly And See festival

Peel Slowly And See festival

Leiden Holland various venues

March 2025

Live Review by Richard Foster and John Robb (in bold)

The dark, but cosy Resistor is an aptly named space, given the complex it’s part of once housed the jam factory that employed the Reichstag firestarter, Marinus van der Lubbe.

 Sets on the first night include terrific and committed pummelings from Atlanta’s Chew (boy, can that drummer drum) and Zuid Nederlandse punk monsters, Crowdsurfers must Die – the latter a bizarre and slightly terrifying mix of gonzo noise and acid-baked grunting.

Chew are everything all at once in the best possible way. There are the aforementioned drumming gymnastics, an amazing display of octopus rhythms and thrilling dexterity that never once loses groove in a powerful multi textured display of rhythm. Not that the rest of the trio are slackers, the trio crank their FX pedals ina texturally assault that swaggers across metal, psychedelia and post punk noise in an engrossing flash mob trip. Across the road Adrian Crowley is fittingly playing in the the somber backdrop of a church that is the perfect backdrop for his songs of love and fury that are delivered with his deeply resonant voice that sounds an octave deeper than Leonard Cohen ver the Neo Suicide pulsating backdrops and drones. It’s spectral and haunting stuff and holds the packed room spellbound with it emotion drenched poetry.  (John Robb)

 Last up is Artrodese, a Rotterdam legend who cut his teeth making the wildest collages of jungle and dub, and for those still standing at midnight, this is what we get. Before Artrodese, the room fills up for yet another Rotterdam noise act, Texoprint, who shake the foundations with a great set that surely bodes well for their forthcoming album. They bounce about the stage, at once gawky and gauche, angry and threatening. For all their initially unprepossessing appearance, Texoprint are difficult to ignore onstage, weirdly compelling even. It’s clear they mean what they play. I’m in two minds about the walls of electric noize they make; a collision of No Means No and The Sound? Maybe. And whilst the committed barkings of the shared vocals and the stentorian rhythms shape the set, there is a set of songs just dying to get out and run free. This inner tension – washes of Borland-esque guitar making an uneasy alliance with the “dubba-dubba” bass lines and quickfire skin bashing – makes for a fine set. The interesting thing will be how they record it.

Texoprint are yet another great find in the current seemingly endless new Dutch undergound. Another skinny crew of youthful noiseniks who somehow find another twist in the gravel bass/dissonant guitar/fractured drums equation. It’s noisy and thrilling and somehow, and this could be their genius, it finds a Neo pop in their startling decibels creating a. Resurgent pop/noise for the now and a vibrant short sharp shock that is very much in the now (John Robb)

And then there were three. Gdańsk’s Trupa Trupa are in fine form at the moment: the danger and uncertainty of the world we live in seems to energise them. The (sad) loss of the lad with the weird silver box guitar and effects has transformed their sound into something leaner, sharper and more potent. No longer hiding behind the old Floydian washes of sound, and digging the Minutemen potential of their new sonic approach, singer Grzegorz Kwiatkowski pogos around the (oddly oval) QBUS stage from the off. Like a Leshy in the forest, awoken at the spring equinox, gurning and grinning, Kwiatkowski is full of the joys of the season. It’s obvious he’s dying to relate to us the band’s latest collection of sugarcoated grimoire. The other two busy themselves with creating a mesmerising and pulsating set of rhythms. Starting with a couple of oldies like Dream About and Uniforms, they tension high by never letting rip, these once rich-sounding tracks are reduced to acid-bitten sketches. With the songs on their new EP, Mourners, the sound suddenly uses a wider palette: the bass throbs and churns, like the wheels of a slowly turning cattle wagon, drums tap out a procession of marches. The guitar starts to scream and vibrate through the ages. Kwiatkowski lifts one leg as if to goosestep, some of us get the message. The end – a stew of sound that almost becomes the beginning of the Faust Tapes, what with the invocations to The Beatles and all, is pretty magnificent. One of Europe’s greatest contemporary rock bands? I’d say so.

LTW faves Trupa Trupa have slimmed down to a three piece and somehow sound all the better for it by forcing more space into their wired wiry Wire minimalism. With the same inventiveness and itchy twitching frenetic energy of ideas as a youthful Andy Partridge from XTC guitarist Grzegorz Kwiatkowski sweats great guitar lines, manic vocal sketches, ad libs and amusing surreal stage banter like the life is pouring out of him. The switch in moods from his manic melodic glee to the bassist’s gnarly bass and vocals is key to their sound with has the brave new pop of the fringes of post punk cranked with the noisenik dissonance of the Death To Trad Rock bands. They also captivate the room and after a decade plus of touring the world are packing out venues and sniffing at a breakthrough. (John Robb)

Over in the beautiful and austere Herengracht Kerk, I Am Oak played a stripped-down set of oldies and forthcoming material as a duo (guitar, keys) to a rapt audience. Thijs Kuiken makes music that is nearly always described as “beautiful” or “poetic”, which sometimes misses the point: what was incredibly clear as the set went on was that I Am Oak songs are built like tractors, to be used in all weathers. They can operate by a campfire or with a full orchestra, and seem to be able to shift in mood at a nod. That is no mean feat.

Fresh from playing guitar with Adrian Crowley where her drones added a textural twist to his cinematic evocations Nadine Khouri is captivating with her own set of stark and compelling songs that hang in the air full of mystery and incense with her beautiful voice entwined with her exquisite guitar lines and flickering drum machine like a bewitching take on the long lost mystery of Young Marble Giants and that timeless dusk of great musics. (John Robb).