HEY YOU. Goth rock kids. Psychey nutjobs. Unemployed but unaccountably stoned people. Fringe-wearers. D’ya like dancing?
No? Is it because you’ve never been asked? Or is it because you’ve never taken Mediterranean grooves laced with proto metal before?
D’ya like having somewhere to go on a night? I thought so. Fumaça Preta are the ones for you then.
They’re like if you went on holiday to a resort where Tony Iomi lurks in the palmy shadows, firing licks out at the castanet and maraca toting locals. And they’re coming. For you.
After releasing their sophomore album Impuros Fanáticos on 8th April the boys are itching to give it an airing. Such an airing will take place in your very town on 23rd April. At Bleach no less, so it’s ok if you have a bevvy or two. In fact it’s encouraged. Get all loosey baby ‘cos they wanna see you waggle them hips and leap with reckless abandon at the scuzzier moments. Not that Fumaça Preta are that bothered; Alex Figuero will be yelling crazily in Portuguese regardless of whether you’re dancing or not. But by God will it be hard for you not to shake that booty.
Imagine a rumba class, but the teacher is slamming out some groove metal curveballs on a drum-kit. And shouting, he’s shouting, like an acid fiend on the third day of a music festival. Seemingly in another dimension there’s a guitarist too, interjecting the bop with filthy fuzzy fretwork. There’s also some bald bloke with a furry coat pulsing out plosive grooves, wile maintaining mischievous eye contact with you despite his dark sunglasses. Not bad for £8 a ticket, which you can buy here.
See you loons on the dance-floor.
Adam Morrison
