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Montana Pete/ Mundane Threat @ The Portland Arms, Cambridge

(23rd September 2001)

8.30. There are two games on offer: Spot The Oxymoron and Oxycute the Spots. The audience get to play one, Mundane Threat save the other til later. Itís rarely thrilling to watch a bunch of 14-year-olds battling against their own inexperience and shyness while trying to sound like Pavement with attitude. This gig is no exception, but come back in 12 months.

9.30. LOUD! Stop! LOUUUUDDDD! Stop! Silence. LOUD!!!! Acne problems are long since past for Montana Pete who are now approaching the age at which paunches settle and the once-hidden attractions of beard, pipes and slippers become apparent. LOUUUDD! LOUUDDDDDER! Stop! Start! Stop! With age comes wisdom (also known as countless shit gigs in shit bands at shit venues) of course, so thereís no faltering introductions, no delicate arrangements, no shortage of taking the piss and no let-up. LOUDEST! Stop! SHOUT! LOUD! Stop! The man with unfeasibly bendy legs and a penchant for shaking his arse at the audience dispenses shards of diamond-edged riff, hacked from a battered guitar. CHANG!! SCREAM! CHANG! The band waits for the bloke who nips outside to answer his mobile. "Was it your Mother?" LOUD! CHAG-A-CHAG-A-CLANG! Stop! Montana Pete are Shellac. LOUUUDAH! With a sense of humour.


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