Babyshambles

Trashed. Greasy. Wasted. Chances are, if you go to a Babyshambles gig, you’ll bump into a few characters throughout the course of your night. Miniature Dohertys. If you read the tabloids, anyway. I’ve had the pleasure of seeing the man in action five times, twice with his current band. And he’s turned up every time (albeit in varying states of intoxication)! The venues change, the songs update, and Pete’s weight fluctuates, but one thing remains the same. The sheer amount of lager that will end up thrown over your head by the end of the night. Because the tabloids always win. Somewhere along the way the vision of 'Albion' that is carried throughout the chaotic indie racket that Babyshambles create got involved with the lads. You know the ones...
Don’t let that spoil your fun, though. Make sure your clothes aren’t too nice and you didn’t spend too long doing your hair. They will both get ruined. From the first chords of the first ramshackle rock anthem, you will be buffeted, you will be drenched. But all with a sense of serendipity that flourishes in the face of hundreds of people revelling in the malfunctioning beauty of a modern British rock band. Because, despite the drugs, despite the trauma. The songwriting talent remains. The tender patriotic soul rendered acoustic in "Albion," the pints to the sky hedonism of "Fuck Forever," the punk rock fiasco of "Kilamangiro." They are a band with many strings to their bow. You hear about the substance abuse, but it’s unnoticeable. Immaculately misconstrued, they are confident enough to strip back the on stage pantomime and let the music talk for itself. Talk it does, too. From first to last, there’s never a moment when you won’t find yourself either being battered by a boozy friend, or embracing in a heartfelt singsong. It may be the drink, but the music is a potion all in itself. Also, you’ll never see a sight more entertaining than a group of guys desperately trying to mosh to an acoustic song.

A rapper who is infamous in the UK rap scene for possessing an unknown identity and having some of the most morbid lyrics you're ever likely to hear, Cas (formerly known as Castro and sometimes goes under the pseudonym CASisDEAD) is certainly an unusual type of act. The subject matters of his songs aren't for the faint-hearted. In his latest mixtape 'The Number 23', Cas spits about bravado and also depression when it comes to the subject of selling/taking drugs and also covers such themes as murder, suicide and politics.
Performing live in London's Fabric nightclub, Cas appeared in his instantly recognisable mask, something he wears in music videos to prevent his identity becoming apparent since he claims to be a teaching assistant. On stage with some of his associates and with green lazer-esque lights darting everywhere, Cas rapped some of the tracks on his latest mixtape which included 'Play', 'Baraka' (produced by well known grime artist JME) and 'All Hollows'. The lack of light in the venue certainly reflected the sort of lyrics that the artist was rapping – rather dark indeed. Everyone in the club was jumping around and throwing up gun fingers, a common site at grime gigs. Despite the atmosphere seeming quite hostile, it had a more energetic vibe as people immersed themselves in the type of music playing. Despite the controversial themes, Cas is definitely a talented MC, who has his own unique flow and cadence and definitely comes across as a thought-provoking and powerful rapper over more slower instrumentals – and a complete lunatic over fast tempos. WARNING: Cas's concerts almost certainly have an 18+ rating, you have been warned...