Made From Moulded Plastic

See them on the TV screen
Looking back with electric eyes,
Razorblades and Vaseline, what I see is synthesized
Photographs in magazines will accept no compromise
Refueled on nicotine, all of them are synthesized

- The Epoxies, “Synthesized”

It’s been far too long since I was last at a live gig, so last night I remedied this by going to see The Epoxies at Roadkill in Liverpool. As usual, I’ll start with the ritualised slaughter of the support acts. First up were The Exorsisters, who had the air of a sixth-form band who’d fancied dressing up as The Ramones for the night. Completely standard three-cord punk songs followed. The highlight of their set was, predictably enough, a cover of “Sheena Is A Punk Rocker”.

Much better were Liverpool’s own Zombina and the Skeletones: if “Undead New Wave cabaret” wasn’t a genre before, it is now. Plus they released a pack of tame zombies into the audience before their set, so what’s not to like? They’re supporting GWAR at the Academy next week, but even Zombina isn’t enough to make me put up with the main act there.

The main act are a band I picked up via the internet a few years ago. They seem to come from some sort of alternate-1984 in which punk didn’t die after 100 days in 1977, but instead took on board the emergent synthesizer technology of the day. The result is a sort of X-Ray Spex/DEVO/Sigue Sigue Sputnik mash up, and I mean that in a most positive way. Like those 80s electronic bands, they’re also unashamedly geeky, with plenty of songs having a science-fiction-y feel. Much like Zombina and the Skeletones, they get extra points because, during the encore, the keyboardist announced that he was quitting the band in order to join the mosh-pit (or to be more accurate, given Roadkill’s small size, the mosh square-metre).

They’re out and about around Britain this month, and I think you should go and see them, lest I come round your house and smite you, Old Testament-style.

I know I’d know the difference somehow
If I was being rearranged
I’m sure if I had been reprogrammed
Something somehow surely would seem strange

- The Epoxies, “Radiation”