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For me, a gig is a place I go where my problems dare not follow me. I’m the kinda guy that needs plenty of noise to drown out the hum drum pointlessness of everyday life and give me a reason to keep on keeping on. It’s a drug really, as potent as any narcotic, and I need a hit as often as possible to keep the normal world at bay. Tonight I find myself in Preston, looking to mainline pure rock n rock, supplied by the Jim Jones Revue.

It’s an odd place tonight. As always me and Mudkiss editor Mel get there early to scout out the area. However we manage to stand there for ages before we realise that a queue is steadily forming at another entrance of the building. It seems even seasoned pros may mistakes now and again. Still once we’ve rectified our mistake we managed to end up on the front line

A good friend of mine once called music that had no singing ‘empty music’ because, she argued, all modern music needs words to give it meaning, but tonight Y Niwl proved the exception to that rule. I’m often surprised to be moved by a band that comes out of nowheresville, and Wales is the epitome of nowhere. But you see and hear them all the time, these little bands that spend their time fermenting their dreams in a garage or some other place, trying to take their all influences and use them to mould something new. And amazingly these four young lads manage to move an unsuspecting crowd with a muscled up version of something the shadows might dream up. Yes I know that sounds shit but you have to feel the twang and chime of this band’s guitars to understand how good it sounds. But don’t take my word for it dear reader, there was a fair few feet tapping along to this bands driving beats, and much enthusiastic applause after every song. Cool stuff. I was so impressed I was moved to buy their CD from the merch table.

I’ve got all Jim Jones’s records, but honestly, nothing can prepare you for the full sonic assault of this band. It’s great when the groups mind works as one, and there’s almost a telepathic connection between the five men that have come to cause havoc in Preston.

They rip through their set with manic fervor that gets the crowd hot and dancing from the off. I know Jim Jones is the titular head of this band, but Rupert Orton is very nearly his equal in the visual stakes.

I love it because the volume and the wildness of the performance wash over me and leave me clean of sin. It’s a long held belief that rock n roll is the devils music, well, if it is, then I’m a disciple. This band rock big time and if you want a passionate show full of commitment and heart then you need to make sure you catch them next time they hit your town.

There’s not a song tonight that this band plays that doesn’t raise the hairs on the back of your neck. Some would say it’s retro, but fuck that, I’d say its timeless and great music will always be current. We get an encore but really the Jim and the boys could have played all night for me. 

I walk out of the door the ugly faces of my problems are still there waiting to take a ride on my back. But, Jim and his boys have given me strength and every time they come near I scare them off with a hearty shout of ‘Fuck this shit!’ It makes them keep their distance because music makes me invincible. At least, until the next gig!  




Rock N Roll Psychosis
Where Da Money Go
Burning Your House Down
Shoot First
Black Jam
High Horse
Cement Fixer
Rompa Stompa
Chain Gang
Righteous Wrong
7 Times Around The Sun
It’s Got To Be About Me
Who’s Got Mine


Hey, Hey, Hey,Hey
Dishonest John
Ain’t My Problem baby
Princess And The Frog
Review by Phil King
Photos by Melanie Smith

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