"We resemble two black spar value bin liners more. Eye of the beholder stuff" -Someone: Hen Party
Feather boas, L-Plates, willy straws, pink cowboy hats and ass pinching. Hen parties have a habit of dividing women into two camps; those who relish the absolute freedom that comes with wearing a silly hat (you can do anything – fact) and those who shy away from penis paraphernalia, preferring to wile away the hours looking embarrassed, but dutifully holding back the maid of honours hair.
But Henparty, the band, do not incite the same divides. If you like pop music you can jump around like a loon to, you’re welcome to the Henparty party. Woody Harrelson’s 1982 mug shot greets visitors to www.myspace.com/henparty, an inconspicuous choice you might think. He is a handsome man after all. But knowing that the mug shot is the result of an incident concerning Harrelson’s drunken dancing in the street (no lie), reveals some part of what Henparty are all about. Packing more mystery into an interview than Scooby Doo manages to stuff in the Mystery Machine, future pop stars Henparty chat with Connected – leaving us more confused, yet more intrigued than ever.
From the outset the band cite their influences as, 'Dutch post-punk combo The Sit, The Clean, Tall Dwarfs, Halo Benders, Guided by Voices and Beat Happening'. Henparty are adamant they make 'pop music, and no mistake'. Their MySpace hosts no actual pictures of the band, unless the band is comprised of two chickens, two bin bags, Ross Kemp, Danielle Westbrook, Steve McFadden and a bear. We can only dream. According to group, the band is comprised of 'Omar Plastic and Bear McFlurry'. So there really is a bear at least.
The duo say they look like Woody Harrelson 'only during the month of October'. "We resemble two black spar value bin liners more. Eye of the beholder stuff, y'know?”
Questioned on where they’re from, the band try to explain. “It’s hard to say. We're definitely not from the north of south, anyway. It's an east-west deal.”
Galactic City Heard and Mc Donald Islands are cited as their hometowns. But the trees are not made of chips on Mc Donald Islands as you might expect: “It's barren. Zero nutrition and it's full of thousands of teenagers in tracksuits being dicks. The band got together on 'one hot sticky drunken night' in 2009. But they insist they 'can't really get into it here'. .
Being of 2009, Henparty embrace technology when it comes to song writing: “We take a cut and paste attitude towards making our music.” Literally it seems: “We use e-mail, which we feel is underused on the modern music scene." A live Henparty gig can get a bit rowdy: “It gets pretty full on. Very cathartic. If it's been a bad week, we'll just beat the hell out of each other for 35 minutes and leave any music to chance.”
The bottom line is, if you like 'blob-rock guitar chops and electrifying ride cymbal work', and you know what that is, you might dig Henparty. Omar Plastic and Bear McFlurry requested it is noted that no animals were hurt during the creation of the band. Catch them while they still look like Woody Harrelson. Hen Party tracks are available to download from www.myspace.com/henparty
(editors note: youtube hen party.. I feel violated)
Words: Amanda Kavanagh
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With a twist of hope, a dash of industry hatred, and a pitcher of
grassroots optimism; we’ve been getting shitfaced on our own
shitetalk for quite some bloody time now... Fifty issues worth in
fact, from August ’04 till round about now. We were, of course, due to kill two birds and cut the cake on our (running late) 5th Bday at the same time last December, but the very small matter of nearly
dying just happened to get in the way...
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Connected: a magazine with a fanzine’s heart – forever seeking new music and gigs we like the look of; and steering clear of the same old suspects, covered by everyone else, all the time... Populist photocopying – while no doubt pretty and a great way to parlay – is not the objective here. This winds some people up no end. We couldn’t care less. Self important? Silver spooned?
Michael Jackson, MTV, Hiroshima. Yes August certainly has a lot to answer
for... World War I, British troops descending on the streets of Belfast,
the day Anne Frank got pinched – history’s handslap to the testicles.
For it’s generally around this time of year that you start to wish this pathetic excuse for a summer would end, that gigs worth going to cost less than 700 quid, that those forever haunting Back To School ads would
just fuck off...
School’s out, work’s out, spending’s out, saving’s as likely as another Solas festival, haven’s as
likely as another Solas festival; sunbathing, however, is a joyously
regular possibility and that, in this kip, is beyond enough to herald
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me, have already been finely frizzled at quite literally the time of
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cue for the sun as we’ve seen for longer than any memory matters.
Sonar, Sea Sessions and newbie No Place Like Dome have bridged the gap
since nicely, and both Knockanstockan and Glasgowbury stand ready and
waiting this July..
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