Lark Blames @ The Ship of Fools, London Thames River.
Date: 1st January 1970
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Whilst it should be clear from its name that The Ship of Fools is a boat, to walk along the Victoria Embankment on a deserted Sunday night and actually find it to be a boat is another matter altogether. And there begins the bizarreness of the evening, one of the definite high points of which is sitting in a dingy, partially underwater club whilst a lady draws a violin bow over a glass of water to the accompaniment of a ticking clock and a monotone trombone. On a boat.
But really, there could be no other setting for a performance by Lark Blames, the experimental music extravaganza of Marc Blackie and Lloyd James. For whatever reason, ‘unforgettable’ is perhaps the word most attributable to the duo (and sometime trio), their highly original blend of sounds creating a very distinctive and evocative aura. Just what is being evoked is down to the original, as the Lark Blames music will certainly not be everyone’s cup of tea, but as with the best experimental music, one can’t help but think of marmite when it is played – its biting, abrasive, dissonant cacophony will either melt on your tongue or give you a bit of a headache, and I’d be hard pushed to see any middle ground with this band.
Perhaps most impressive is the range of sounds being produced by two (and sometimes three) people. They have been extremely creative with the samples they use, putting together sounds which wouldn’t sound out of place if an Argos delivery truck collided into a cement mixer, and yet they have managed to make them sound purposeful and in tune with one another, even when no discernable tune is present.
One to stick in your mind, the Lark Blames may not be appearing on Top of the Pops any time soon (figuratively speaking), but they stand out in their genre as a truly personal, imaginative and willing-to-try-anything-once outfit.
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