Cardiacs, The Zodiac, 08.11.05
Written by Stuart
Sunday, 13 November 2005

Where to start with Cardiacs? Veritable legends of English independent music over the last thirty years, they are one of those very rare bands that can be used to describe other bands (as in ’so-and-so sounds rather Cardiacs-ey’, in the same way that the stop-start bands cluttering up our venues over the last few years can be said to have more than a hint of Shellac about them), and have a reputation for being, well, as mad as a bunch of March hares on a very hefty dose of whatever-Syd-Barrett’s-having.

However, Barrett’s acid-fried whimsy is a million miles away from Cardiacs’ prog/ska/ear-splitting symphonic rock approach. Being beefed back up to an occasional nine piece band from their recent times as a stripped-back four piece has brought back the more theatrical elements of the band - the stage is set up with bass drums and percussive instruments played by two red-clad percussionists, who, along with two Laura-Ashley’d backing singers, sit quietly, staring out the audience in a worryingly psychotically manner when they aren’t providing a tribal element to the rhythms.

Brothers Tim and Jim Smith have been the focal point of the band throughout their history, despite now looking more like a pair of (admittedly slightly deranged) undertakers than anything else. The tradional cries of ‘Jim, Jim, Jim’ are met with the also-traditional derision from Tim, and this brings to light another remarkable thing about this band - their fans.

There are people here who have clearly seen the band more times than would seem good for their mental stability, and sing along to all of the breakneck, offkilter, twisting, ear-boggling songs that they can keep up with. Cardiacs fans are a fiercely loyal bunch, and the band are happy to give the fans what they want with a two-hour set reaching as back as far as ‘Is This The Life’, through the height of their popularity in the late eighties, to their newly-recorded album.

That the set stretches through their whole career, and that it’s actually rather hard to tell an old song from a new song, stylistically, brings up the fact that Cardiacs really do only have two gears - frenetic, jazz/prog/thrash, and huge, multitracked (using the ever-present backing track) symphonic epic. But when when your two gears are this good, frankly, you have no need of variation - after 90 minutes of batting us good-naturedly around with their prog/punk, the band finish their set with a ten-minute, stacked vocal drone that threatens to overcome one of the backing vocalists either in religous epiphany or lack of oxygen, the like of which hasn’t been seen locally since Ultrasound out-Floyded Pink Floyd. Two encores later, even the faithful seem exhausted, and the band, grinning from ear-to-ear, finally leave our ears ringing into at least tomorrow afternoon.

Cardiacs have always existed on the edge of the music industry, and are almost the archetypal ‘indie’ band, in the original sense, in that they release their records on their own label, and exist almost entirely outside even the more open-minded music press, and remain a band that you tend to discover through word-of-mouth. That a band can have such a lengthy career and continue to provoke such rabid support from their fans is testament to their unhinged brilliance.

By Ben Thumb.

© Copyright 2001-2005 OxfordBands.com

CARDIACS - Oxford Zodiac 8th November 2005 -

Woooo, ringing ears! At 3:23am, hoarse of voice but this cup of tea I have here will sort that and keep me going just long enough to tell you GO SEE CARDIACS. I don’t have to write some kind of polite ‘well, they’re still quite good after all’ thing out of loyalty to some sort of past glory. No, I have to try and get my brain around the way this Cardiacs thing has once more grown a bit, rearranged itself a bit and yet true to some weird constant that still, STILL thrills. They must have some really pug-ugly horrible painting of the lot of them in their attic. This little gig, a delicate little tour (because with one thing and the other, Cardiacs have not really toured or gigged much in the last few years) quietly reassuring us and themselves that the magic continues to be made… OK, an explanation for the (potentially) new recruits (yes, it’s like that I’m afraid). Cardiacs are this band that are the best kept secret in music. They’ve been around since 1977 fergawdsake, but a combination of being too far ahead and out of their time, and various boring music business trials & tribulations, and being 99% unsigned throughout, means that you don’t get to learn about them through the usual routes. Their music is - and I’m going to quote the complete stranger in the pub we dragged into the venue tonight - absolutely gobsmacking. You get total avant-garde weirdness inside insanely catchy tunes that go from bouncing ska to medieval to full-on rockout to hands in the air football chant… quite often in one song. What you don’t get is pretentiousness or exclusivity: jump in the pit and you’re part of it all. You get these unexpectedly charismatic characters making this music and rituals and you always get one of those damn tunes in your head, even if its all too much and you run away screaming. Now, after all that, do I have to go blah blah favourite band of/influence on blah blah Napalm Death, Blur, Mr Bungle, Radiohead, lots and lots of musicians etc again?

Yes but what about the gig?

If you saw Cardiacs years ago (really years ago) you might have been secretly pining for the theatre of that early line-up; the make-up and what have you of that time faded because it was time to not have it. All the spectacle was in them being a damn fine super-imaginative rocking outfit.

Around the core of Tim Smith and Jim Smith different musicians melded in and added things, and when staleness should have set in new music, even better music appeared… trying to avoid some cliche about things going full circle, think of some long-drawn-out season where something planted has budded and blossomed. All in good time. So: you enter this (really rather good) venue with its nice arched roof and see a stage chocka with percussion and Alphabet Business Concern green and red and people - lots and lots of formally dressed young women to sing and bang drums at the correct moment, looking just right; Kavus and Jim resplendent in their sashes, Tim in tie and shirt and bloody great coat which is just right and never gets taken off (except for a second, which caused cheering) no matter how steaming the venue gets with the frenzy down the front. Yep, there were a couple of gigs - quite a while back now - that had me thinking, ah well, it couldn’t last forever (even if Terry Bickers called them ‘the finest living live band on the face of the planet’ - but tonight was not one of them… We had Cardiacs all to ourselves (kind of) in this nice venue, people who got hooked yonks ago and teenagers whose (quote) dad’s friend’s drunken mate loaned one of them an album in the summer and now they’ve travelled 50 miles with seven mates to have a bloody glorious time. All word of mouth, everyone here. I suppose 12 seconds into the start of ‘Home Of Fadeless Splendour’ (the big hymn thing everyone sings) I woke up to the fact that I was hopelessly possessed by this band again, and the buggers were going to make me write a stupidly over the top review at 4am in the morning because that was one hell of a gig from beginning to end.
Did I mention you really ought to go and see Cardiacs?

Marina
Organ Magazine.