Thursday 23/07/04 Malibu Stacey, The Mags, Cadium @ Barfly, Liverpool

The night begins promisingly.  There are total of 13 people echoing around Barlfy and one of the bands The Mirrors haven’t turned up.  Despite this, with vodka and coke in hand, we force our way through the crowds to watch the first band Cadium. Really should have stayed at the bar.  Billed as modern day grunge Cadium sound more like soft rock with vocals from Stuart Graham that wouldn’t be out of place in a boy band.  Understandably the band is uncomfortable with the lack of people; but then they are dull and lack charisma.  'There To Catch You', 'Artistic Impressions', who knows the difference?  The songs meld into one long poor attempt at rock music.  There is some excitement though, when Gigwise's hair clip gets stuck in the netting of the sound box behind us.

Next to appear on stage are The Mags, marked by the 10 foot banner hanging behind the stage.  Vocalist Mike Kennedy emits a friendly scouse accent when he attempts to create some banter between himself and the 10 audience members.  The Mags aren’t exactly 21st century rock'n'roll, but the extremely animated drummer Mark Bleasdale pulls the band together to create some pleasant Stereophonic- sounding tunes.  'My Girl, My Heartache' has an infectious beat and allows Kennedy and guitarist Anthony Wilkinson to exhibit some nice vocal harmonies.  But at the end of the day nice and pleasant aren’t qualities that should be found in a rock band.

Exit The Mags, enter Fred Elliott on speed and Johnny Rotten look a like Jonny Wilson.  The assembled are immediately gripped by the energy and authentic punk rock sound that Malibu Stacey emit, to whom the lack of people seems to matter little.  Supported by the expected fantastic bass lines of ex-Terrorvision member Leigh Marklew, Wilson controls the stage with his energy and crazy banter. 

Malibu Stacey have moved away from the pop-rock hum of Terrorvision, offering up a raw unpolished sound that demands some proper head banging and a few strums of the old (h)air guitar; with Wilson having the vocal range to support the songs and the stage presence to deliver 'em.
Nearing the end of the set, sweating profusely, he sits on the edge of the stage shadowed in darkness allowing attention to move to the rest of the band members who, while not bouncing around quite as much as Wilson,  express the sheer love of what they are doing through every movement. 

Malibu Stacey are a fantastic live band which doubtlessly will also transfer well to album.  Let's just hope Wilson’s heart can survive the touring.

Photos by Sakura Henderson