WANTED TO BLOG A BAND SO I DID!

Usually an intimate gathering of close family and friends loiter and banter from venue to venue anticipating the stage arrival of The Brows. The puddle of faces is not diminished in size by choice. The size of the gathering is flanked by the continuous grind of ticket touting by the band at the request of the promoters. Paying to see a new local band is something us Scousers are not prepared to do when we have a host of haunts offering the best local produce and cheap pints. However, tonight in Mojo, the room is pulsating. The band have been waiting for this night for quite some months now…a free gig. Friends navigate through the crowd to the stage, eagerly waiting for the band to show, but even more intrigued as to what the crowd will make of yet another Liverpool band.
Un-noticed The Brows enter the stage, heads bowed. They make a bee-line for their instruments. After a few seconds of shuffling and knowing glances between members, Jack Robinson, lead singer and rhythm guitarist presses his mouth on the mic, ‘We’re The Brows’, monotone and unsociable. It’s clear The Brows aren’t here to establish camaraderie, they are here to play.
The low and dirty riff of ‘Electric Charm’ crawls under the crowds skin as Robinsons vocals progressively snarl at each and every crowd member. I feel the corner of my lips wickedly flicker. I want more already. The bass rumbles through the speaker and I feel my heart pumping as Garth, bass player, spies over at the lead guitarist, Gareth, who is yet to brandish his guitar. The tallest member of the band is seemingly unimposing, and Brows fans are yet to encounter the fuss of this mystery man since the sacking of original lead guitarist. Can he live up to the (minute) hype.
Fucking Hell! He doesn’t just play the guitar he beats it. The riff leaves a handprint on your cheek. Every reveller stops, sits up and takes notice. Bar staff can be seen nudging one another and the photographers zoom in. His hands seemingly don’t strum a chord, they move with ferocity and agility whilst he looms over the guitar scratching at the frets. Rodgers, the small fuzzy headed drummer chews on his cheeks whilst thrashing the symbols. The blush emphasizes the frustration of a band desperate to push these gargantuan sounds onto new, yet unassuming people.
‘Drown World’ provides the perfect ambient music for your worst nightmare. Rogers drumming is systematic and continuous as Gareth’s guitar haunts and echoes, but never ceases. The worst of the best is yet to come. Robinson sweetly whines his way through the verse. His range is impressive with the ability to switch from thundering pitches to sugary sinister vocals. Garths bass pounds the floor boards throughout the song, incessantly building the texture of the sound until the crescendo reaches its peak at the chorus and Gareth’s guitar begins to scream. He turns to Rogers and simultaneously they take their victims. The symbols and guitar are played with sultry, sleazy attitude. The whole performance is portrayed via lolling, heads and bodies. The mood is macabre, the music is mystical and the crowd, well the crowd are under a magic spell.
The supporting bands watch silently from the booths. It’s hard not to be intimidated.
The genre of songs and composition vary throughout the set list, but the attitude does not. Although far from arrogant or pretentious these are a group of guys you would approach with caution at the bar. They aren’t too open to praising hand shakes or witty critiques or comparisons. They come across shy, yet humbly certain… they know they are shit hot!
I congratulate them as they sieve through the bustling crowd as to which they politely smile and head to a booth to catch the next band.
Miss out on this band and well you’ll….err miss out. However, with an imminent name change on the horizon, keep your brows raised for this belter band.

Catch their rather shit, but with some good demo’s, MySpace page at http://www.myspace.com/thebrows1