Venue: Ilkeston Football Club.

Date: August 2006

Bands: NotSoPretty

It’s Monday and I’m sitting in the bar of my local football club. I feel a little out of place. Tonight a local band is hosting a gig to allow other local bands to showcase their talent and make new friends and fans. We are here for one reason. Redmont, Tank, Crib and Blanc, collectively known as NotSoPretty.

The band takes to the stage around 9.30.  At first you could be mistaken for thinking they were two bands, maybe, half of NotSoPretty look like they could be in an old 90’s brit-pop band. One even wears a parker. The remaining two look more ‘punk’, in the way of the sex pistols. Neither looks like Johnny Rotten, but you get the idea.

Vocalist Redmont introduces the set with “Hi, we’re Patchwork Grace (the band hosting tonight gig), and this is our new single, out today…” Then they launch into a song that is something totally different. A demonstration of Redmont’s dry sense of humour.

NotSoPretty play well, and sound good, although I’m not sure that public perception is their foremost concern. It would seem that they are a band who write and play primarily to please themselves. Not that they are rude but you get the impression that they don’t give a toss if you like them or not, they’re going to play anyway. And play they do, one of tonight’s highlights being an impressive live version of ‘Mommy What’s a Pacifist?’.

NotSoPretty have something that draws your attention. I’d say its charm, but it’s far from charming. It is clichéd to say, but they are an attack on the senses. They make you stop your conversation, put down your drink and pay attention. They are clever about it. They work in two ways. Obviously, the live performance being the first, secondly they make you think. Redmont spits his lyrics as if choking on them. Thought provoking, relevant lyrics aimed at society today. You catch snippets that stick in your mind, and you want to hear more.

Visually Redmont has qualities of Cobain - his similar style of unkempt hair, his jeans, and his converse. There are also hints of Yorke - the way he drags his feet, and spasms, more than a little like Curtis. Vocally he sounds deeper than you’d ever think possible from his slender frame. Sounding like a cross between Curtis and Morrisson, but not really anything like either. Don’t get me wrong he doesn’t emulate these men. He is himself. Already it appears he was put he to front a band. Captivating, but not deliberately so.

Meanwhile, Tank plays his bass in equal parts as if it were his most treasured lover and most loathed enemy. Flicking his dark, cropped hair and he throws his head. Not like a pretty boy model, like a bass player. Again he is entertaining to watch, but you get the impression that his passion is for his instrument. For his enjoyment, rather than yours.

Watching this band at times makes you feel voyeuristic. Not that they don’t want to be watched, but you feel as if you’ve just crashed a private party.

Watching NotSoPretty is a bit like the first time you have sex. You’re not really sure what’s going to happen, but you know you want it to be good. When its over, it’s too soon, you already want it to happen again.

Go see them. Now.

Laura Smith