Remember That, Fucko: Hey Colossus' Favourite Albums | Page 12 of 14 | The Quietus

Baker's Dozen

Artists discuss the 13 records that shaped their lives

Last year, for the second time, I spent a weekend at Supernormal Festival. I had a debauched one. Had the best time, saw the greatest music, spent the weekend with some fine souls, slept in the van with my wife, Elisa. Zombie Crash were a total joy, Dethscalator (RIP) were as good as they’ve ever been as the sun went down, Shopping WERE the summer in music form, Richard Dawson took the piss out of me for being a FULL KIT WANKER (I only had the top on, shame), Bass Clef tore it up to close the Saturday night. But, the highlight by a country mile, were Shield Your Eyes.

They’ve been going for years, we’ve probably played with them more than once. Who knows. But on this night, as they headlined the tiny second stage, in the open dark air, with a few hundred people watching (Supernormal only lets 500 people in), they completely blew my mind. I had a bit of an emotional moment. And the greatest thing about it was I wasn’t expecting it at all, and for it to still happen at this horrific age, for me, was so very terribly exciting. As soon as I got home I pre-ordered the album, which arrived a month or two later. The vinyl came with the CD (which I love as I’ve never downloaded one of those code things, got nothing to play it on). CD for van, vinyl for house – rules.

Oh, they sound like a sxities band AND a nineties band ripping it up at Klooks Kleek with John Mayall by the side of the stage waiting to go on next. They sound like they can play like demons because they can play like total demons. The album sounds LIVE. No edits. These characters can jam like hell.

The Sunday of the festival turned out to be the last day I drank alcohol. A few things sparked the abstinence, and one of those was seeing Shield Your Eyes and thinking: I wanna do music more than I wanna drink so hows about concentrating on that. For now. Never say never.
Joe Thompson

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