Amelie Peters
Writer/designer and sub-editor for Epigram. If you wish to summon me, say something relatively pretentious about post punk music three times, click your heels and I’ll appear.
Fresh off the release of their debut album ‘The Sweet Goodbye,’ Opus Kink return to Bristol’s Rough Trade for an intimate night of chaos
The herald is the rich trumpet that wakes the earthy voice of Angus Rogers, called to life by the resonating brass. Rogers is like the goblin king himself and a dastardly wickedness propels him into a swaying pit.
There is a lawless nature to the possession-style movements of vocalist Angus Rogers; wild moves collide with an addicted energy, all stemming from the pure excitement of the performance of it all. Rogers‘ upfront space-invading personal elegies leave the audience in an awed trance, so much so they seem only too pleased to feed him their drinks.
It would be easy to ream off a thousand and one anecdotes about the stylistic and grabbing attitude of a salaciously sultry front man, but it is worth noting the immense skill of the rest of the band: Sam Abbo (bassist),Jack Banjo Courtney (trumpet), Fin Abbo (drummer), Jazz Pope (synth) and Jed Morgans (saxophonist). Not only is the sound delicious to listen to, but technically extremely impressive.
Opus Kink open with ‘Come Over, Do Me Wrong,’ lyrically beguiling and musically seductive. The track speaks to a lethargy for life intertwined with an undoing romance. Rogers‘ tonal shifts mirror the narrative and complement the languorous horns.
In a world where many bands shrug off their audience interaction, Opus Kink steps into the breach. Fat Dog’s slipping reverence for their fans has been caught in the safe hands of Rogers, and those looking for true chaos should turn to Opus Kink.
With the decree “This song’s about me,” Rogers jumps into the berserk melody that is ‘Crucify!’. The repetitive nature of the synth whispers a mood of hysteria, the back and forth with itself pushes audience to “move, move, move!”
Throughout Opus Kink’s debut album ‘The Sweet Goodbye,’ there’s an ongoing argument about purpose, from the title track to the closer. In opposition to the shorter episodic EPs, the album in an odyssey of internal discussion. Intertwined with provocative and sometimes satirical lyrics, is an affecting despondency. Eloquently mixed into rhythm and rhyme the thoughtfulness is disguised behind a jazz-punk post-punk label.
When asked for a quote Angus Rogers spouted the following: ‘UK Kernow jazz punk is on the rise, never forget’. I think we can all agree.
Listen to ‘The Sweet Goodbye’ here: