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The Agitator
The New Hero
Brighton
Article written by
Jon V - Aug 6, 2009
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The Agitator
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Derek Meins certainly has a set of pipes on him. And he uses them to their full, gargantuan effect as the ‘vocalist’ of his latest wheeze – The Agitator. At one point during tonight’s proceedings he unleashes a primal howl that sets my can of Red Stripe vibrating as if it’s sat on top of Slipknot’s bass bin.
Describing Meins as a ‘vocalist’ is to do him a disservice, however; in fact, his Mr Muscle vocal chords make him a walking, talking rhythm section, ably filling the space usually occupied by bass, guitars, keyboards, kazoos… Accompanied only by sidekick Robert Dylan Thomas and his drum kit, the Scottish poet, troubadour and one-time member of Eastern Lane rips up the indie blueprint to deliver a set of what could be described as ‘rockabilly hip-hop a cappella agitprop’, (then again, perhaps it couldn’t).
Labels aside, the sound is raw, passionate, stripped down and, above all, angry. Thomas’ big, big beats provide a rumbustious foundation for Meins’ awesome vocals and ‘call to arms’ lyrics. He whoops, he hollers; he raps with the best of them; there are doo-wop high notes, soulful ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’, and cement mixer growls. It’s nothing short of enthralling.
Meins dedicates ‘Mr Wolf’ to “all those people who have ever received a bill they cannot pay”. ‘Let’s Start Marching’ is a thunderous challenge to dispense with mainstream politicians – “Some bunch of bozos… and their same old excuses”. While the impassioned ‘Get Ready’ invites us to “Put up a fight/ the best that you can”, before sounding the band’s central rallying cry: “We can’t afford to hesitate/ now is the time to agitate”. It’s not subtle, nor is it sophisticated, but it’s undeniably powerful and entertaining stuff.
Tonight is about more than the music, though – the act is closer to physical theatre than a traditional gig. Leaning into the mic, left arm outstretched in rolled up shirt sleeve, eyes scrunched shut, razor sharp cheekbones casting theatrical shadows, Meins’ gets to gurning: his face contorts, his lips describing seemingly impossible shapes, his whole body swaying and shaking. If fashion really does end in passion, there are no prizes for guessing who’s the best-dressed man in Brighton this evening.
Afterwards, I overhear a fellow punter tell his mate that while he enjoyed the performance, he wouldn’t buy an album by The Agitator because the music is “too unsettling”. I have a feeling that this statement would give Meins and Thomas the greatest sense of satisfaction: job well done!
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