Monday 8th November 2004 by James Kirsch Contributor

Thursday 04/11/04 Grande Cobra, The Hidden @ The Dublin Castle, London

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Grande Cobra declare “We are the kids who scribble Kiss songs in our notebooks forever dreamin’ of truck racing and Rock N Roll”. Forever dreaming; the lifeblood of every garage band since before the dawn of time (or at least the early 60’s). On paper, it’s all been done before; a three piece with the usual amplified guitars and rocking hooks. But in practice, something as simple as great garage rock is a lost art, in spite of a recent revival of sorts. The Vines promised so much but turned out to be a great disappointment, The Hives are too styled and precise, and with any luck if we all just ignore Jet they’ll get the hint and go away. Too harsh? Just answer this; have you heard anything as gut-wrenchingly excellent as the Stooges’ ‘Search and Destroy’ or the MC5’s ‘Kick Out The Jams’ from the recent flood of garage bands? Of course you haven’t, although that MC5 riff has been rehashed so many times its criminal, and those responsible should be locked in a room and tortured with Meat Puppet b-sides until they know better.

So Grande Cobra play good old-fashioned grimy rock and roll. Nothing original there, but what’s so gripping is that they play with such genuine fervour that nothing appears either forced or rehearsed. It’s a little loose but that only adds to the charm and gives their performance that dangerous feeling that it could just fall to pieces any moment. But it doesn’t, and so we watch Aaron Cobra staggering across the stage like a man possessed by the demon of the late Johnny Ramone. From ‘Papercuts’ to closer ‘Baby, Get Out!’ everything is loud, brash, and backed by drums so thumping they’re threatening to shake the building off its foundations. Definitely one of New Zealand’s’ best exports right now, make sure you catch them next time they come around.

This brings us to The Hidden, a rather green folk-rock outfit who sound like The Cardigans having an ill-advised funk jam with The Levellers. Everything about them is mismatched; the band look like Cliff Richard’s Shadows playing ‘oh so clever’ folk instruments behind a crusty singer who bawls melodies that just don’t fit. The crowd’s response is tellingly underwhelming. Apparently The Hidden are off to Mount Everest to play a gig at record altitude, let’s hope they get lost up there.