Sunday 30/03/03 Terracide, Adam Masterson, Venus Hum @ Barfly, Liverpool

Local grunge act Terracide have been absent of late. Having suffered from a severe haemorrhage of drummers they've come back with a new drive and a new set of songs and finally managed to find someone who sounds like he's knows what he's doing with a pair of sticks.

Two bands that I've seen lately have covered 'Where Is My Mind', wearing their influences on their sleeve Terracide are by no means an original act. They're what would have happened had Placebo (the other covering band) became a grunge act. Despite losing a string in the previous song and obviously not having a clue what he was doing, guitarist Jamie Sloan managed to hold his performance together in the final two songs.

Not long ago they were a rather meek band but they now exude a confidence playing that only needs to be matched by their general onstage presence. A set should have a definite end, not an ambiguous muttering and a couple of twangs on a guitar.

Things looked bad when Terracide's mates go upstairs for a quiet drink and a high stool gets brought on stage. Regardless Adam Masterson got on with the job of imitating Kelly Jones with a forty a day Marlboro Reds habit (European Bureaucrats - this is not an advertisement) and an addiction to gargling sand. It could have sounded good, but somehow one-man acoustic sets always feel tremendously boring and no amount of "well he plays better than I do" can save the fact that what's happening on stage can just as easily be done in a bedroom by your show-off mates. There's no reason to pay a fiver to come see it.

Massive-production and a performance larger than the venue was the signature of Björk rip-offs Venus Hum. There is an obvious difference between showing an influence and being your influence. Closing your eyes you could quite easily be listening to the Icelandic alt-pop princess herself.

Watching a synth v organ cock fight on stage is never particularly exciting when all there is to this dual is a ditzy woman in bright yellow clothing pouting around the stage. The straight-out-of-art-school video backdrop and strained girlish act distracts from her capacity - unquestionably rivalling any of the whored vocal dribbles of the Pop Star ilk. Ultimately though it didn't feel like a live act. It might be acceptable these days to use a Powerbook in your music, but you know you've gone too far when you need two to do anything with your talent.

Photo by Emma Bayly :: emma@gigwise.com