To be a crusty old fart and still crave things that are the province of the younger generation is a huge pain in the ass. Take my stunted love of music as an example. I should not at my advanced years, give a fat, flying flip about the latest Motorhead release. I should be like others in my demographic; content with whatever happens to be playing over the phone while I’m waiting on hold to pay my water bill. I don’t follow sports, which are ageless, and I refuse to work on projects in the shed. So that leaves plenty of brain space for music trivia, collecting, digging, trading, and of course concerts.

Now I skate that razor thin line between digging the music and becoming, “Creepy Old Guy at the Show”. This magazine gives me a great excuse to go to all the shows I want with barely a raised eyebrow.

Not long ago, I got the chance to check out AWEN and Wolfcult Choir. Both have a folk meets something or other bent to them with the “other” parts as divergent as east and west.

AWEN is a three piece that look like Teutonic R.O.T.C. circa 1941 if Tim Burton designed their uniforms. The music pulses and throbs forth with a mystical tone and drone. It was Volk over folk actually. Through it all, tribal war drums and percussion swell, thump and feeling more like cadence than a beat. The Cairn at the Crossing, Unter Den Linden and The Bear and the Breaker were invocations just as much as battle chants. They have no chance commercially and to cement this they’re releasing a vinyl LP instead of a CD, MP3 or whatever.

Wolfcult Choir veritably exploded from the stage after AWEN in a whirling clusterfuck of energy and calculated cunning that, if properly marketed, could turn a Goth’s head so far around as to snap it off and boot it past the confines of the necropolis. Wolfcult Choir is folk done as if likes of Boyd Rice knew some jazz fundamentals and wasn’t afraid to embrace some good old fashioned rock n’ roll.  Vocalist, alpha male, Lex Ronin, stalks across the stage channeling an Ian Curtis intensity while managing to strike Mick Ronson guitar poses is a feat in itself. Saint (bass) and Kurtz (drums) thunder back and forth in roiling peals like a distant storm while Miss Cin (church organ, vocals & drop dead sex appeal) adds the final dimension to this wily pack.

They should have a few gigs over the next couple of months. In the meantime, check out the sounds posted -http://www.myspace.com/hourofthewolf

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go hide in the corner while I check out some other bands.

Words and photos-Mike Wilshin (www.myspace.com/old_man_mike)

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