• U.K. Subs play Chemiefabrik, Dresden, Germany



vocals & harmonica






Please contact us if you can provide this website with any of the following:

  • Your personal review of the show
  • A poster/flyer/ticket for this gig
  • A recording of the gig
  • Photos from this gig
  • This gig's set list
  • Any newspaper/fanzine preview or review






Click image to visit the Fungalpunk websiteBig thanks to Mr Dave Fungalpunk for his detailed review of Alvin's forthcoming LP on T&M, as always with his reviews it is brutally honest, funny, confusing and entertaining, whilst being thought-provoking...

He obviously knows his stuff too, as he summarises T&M as "silly buggers" :-)
Spot on Dave, spot on... ;-)

"...my verdict is primarily of 'hit' designs..."

"Thankfully we get entertained and although I don't roar at the end as regards a 100% winner this is still a decent do and will attract the attention and acclaim of many - but are they being honest - ooh there is always one isn't there! …"

Archived on T&M below:
Reviewing music is no easy thing and one has to be careful, so they say, of treading on toes and insulting the elevated.  This never comes into play with what I do and for me we are all on one level, everyone gets the same service and if they don't like it then my rear end is there to be pecked.  Here we have a much respected musician, from a band I have always held in high esteem and assisted by a bunch of 'names' many will inadvertently or deliberately gush over rather than staying true to an honest ethos.  I can understand the distraction, the sway that will come before true dissection has taken place - some people are just silly buggers.  Here is my take on an anticipated release, one from an Urbanised Dog who is eternally Subbed up and always stretching within the inescapable confines - I step back, shake down, step in and then...scribble!  The release by the way is on Time and Matter Recordings - they know their stuff and have kindly asked for my thoughts - like I say, there are some silly buggers about!
Track the first, 'Arterial Pressure', is a cluttered hammering of industrial machinations that overspill with emotive anguish and urgent rock and roll thrustings.   The outpouring is frayed with a tumbling temperament that leaves blood vessels hanging and swaying via the noise-laden waft.  This is a short, bold and economical burst of muscular tuneage that is difficult to grasp with one or two spins.   I delve deeper, I am of the opinion it is a mere aperitif but one that sets the senses to high alert and gives them a decent kick for the hell of it!  As the tunnel of silence consumes it soon spits out its next plume of toxic discharge, this time scrawled under the indecency of 'Ghost Train'.  This is a delicious piece of regulated rhythm with the singer in his element.  The musical vibes aim to shake the internal skeleton and send a shiver up your spine for all the right reasons.   The true fairground ride where terror awaits is one we have all been dumped upon - the steaming and spiteful shit that is due for arrival at Platform Wank is known as life, it can be a rocky old ride - all aboard you vile victims!   The intensity here is nicely stoked, the delivery indicative of the man at the helm - tasty!
'Dumb' has a snazzy, jazzy element of early NY design that thrusts and swaggers albeit here in a most unassuming way.   The song takes some warming too but when the thermality rises several notches there are many layers to reveal and a certain longevity that manifests itself.   The crisp strings, the forced gob work, the complimentary adornments all keep the noggin intrigued and although this is my least favoured snippet this far - I remain alert and curious.  'Camden Town Gigolo' is an aggravating song that leads us by the hand and takes us down the murky byways of streets well traversed, labyrinthine thoroughfares were lives unravel, where day to day existences assassinate time.  The bass is manipulated, the guitar pseudo-bluesed, the tympanic heartbeat natural and for me the song fades down the final alleyway all too soon and leaves one...flat-lined.   The early sequences get one salivating, eventually we are allowed to feed before the plate is slowly removed and frustration takes hold – bastard!
We trespass further, 'Clumsy Fingers' are grasped next, we enter on a cool and steady stick skip before the grooves are deepened and a hip-grinding slaggery manifests itself via some real glam-tinted dabbling.  The unorthodox patternisation of the construct is where I find greatest intrigue, the natural off-the-cuff sprinklings show artistes traversing a tonal pathway with each and every potential hazard dealt with.  The relish in the delivery snags attention, the flamboyance is both chaotic and organised - a paradox to ponder whilst enjoying the upchuck.  'Heaven And The Angels' is twilight time-out whilst sitting on high and considering a murdering man’s place, his raison d'être, his past and lack of future.  It is a song from the twisted ticker, a sufferance that drags a tired carcass across tramlines of disillusioned discordance and awaits the wheels to arrive and end the aching agony.   All the while the listener is held captive by some sheer perversity and in this instance, comes out at the end of the episode, uncertain!   It is a sludgy, glutinous movement filled with straining effort - a definite mood piece if you ask me!
'Back To Mayhem' is back to typical punkery that there is always a place for.  The script reads out with a formulated accent, the quick verses are interspersed with dictating repeat raping sub-choruses and the blitz of the song is unapologetic and falls with a gush.  The song whips in, whips out, leaves a decent but well-tested taste - it is a good injection to keep us all alert and ready!  'Polemic' regards the artist, the path taken so far, the tick box normality of a noise-making journey.  Tis all gathered up and ends in the same state, the key for me is to follow no-one, hence the 'cunt' like status I own so very proudly.  Here I use that cuntism and pick at the threads, open up any wounds and examine things a little more closely.  The mix has passion but the vocals are a trifle too sunken, the string work slightly bluesed but in a way as to leave things lacking and the overall movement without any decent punch.  It is a song that wavers, weaves, wanders from the middle line - that can be no bad thing and I salute it as such, it doesn't mean I have to tell a lie and hail it as a good un' though.
'No' is a contemplating song, a creation that keeps things cooled, old-schooled with a dash of personality - the personality of the frontman of course.  The journey from verse to chorus is well-lubricated and although we don't follow any scripted guidelines to make the tuneful peregrination simplistic, time reveals the song to be finely composed, of sound stature and a definite creeper.  There is a crepuscular essence, a step-back and consider stance, a moon-pecked eye on the look-out for answers.  I like this one, very interesting indeed and once again...it grows!  'Desperate Dave Is Dead' is a sombre song, gets blue in many ways, relates a tale about a loser, a man it seems who wasted so much.  The song staggers along in a reminiscent haze, reflecting on points that fail to spark interest and with a tune that is too free-wristed for its own good.  There is nothing I can relate to here, I can't pretend there is - I struggle to see any finer aspects, it seems almost unfinished and a song that needs a certain finger up the jacksie, a tweak of a few clattering nobs and then some - again just a personal view and without sway - tis a shit life reviewing!
2 left, 'I'm Not Crying Now', saunters in, vocalises about a dipping-dick situation built on cheap lust rather than worthwhile love - bah.  The effort is emblazoned with firm 4 wired wanking, a splash and crash skin application and some roaming 6-strung reactions thus making for a product that gets the job done in tidy time, with no hidden layers and with no consternation of the brow created - it is, in all intents and purposes, a simplistic effort with added tonal tinsel - I can't argue.  We shut down with 'Deep As Our Skin' - a flick of the switch and back many years we drop with bitch blokes, queens of the quirk and slag rag reprobates all summoned forth and called to gyrate things out of their systems with this rockin' tune that does things deliberately and with neat direction.  One for the golden oldies, the shrivelling shitters, the wrinkled riff-raff - and why not?  The noise self-perpetuates, the overall delivery is sweetly low slung and hits an ever open vein - feel the rush baby.
I am done, my verdict is primarily of 'hit' designs with tattoos of 'miss' thrown into the mix.  The fact is, as is proven over many years, Mr Gibbs has many musical demons to rape and expose and here, he gets some relief whilst jacking off his chosen weapon of discordant war.  Thankfully we get entertained and although I don't roar at the end as regards a 100% winner this is still a decent do and will attract the attention and acclaim of many - but are they being honest - ooh there is always one isn't there!