Bogshed. Step On It.

Bogshed's first official long player, Step On It is just a tad more focused and controlled than their usual level of derangement, but they still pack it full of unplayable guitar riffs, bludgeoning bass lines, and opaque sloganeering. As always, it's magnificently, aggressively awkward.

Step On It

Unofficial Website

Bogshed on myspace

Bogshed. Morning Sir.

"I once ran into a pillar and knocked myself stone-cold out, dancing to Bogshed."
(someone reminiscing on the web)

That sounds about right. I should hope similar tributes occurred at every Bogshed gig. They poured a boundless amount of energy into their mayhem, and listening to them is likely to inspire a similar lack of self-regard for personal safety. Rock out 'til you knock out.

Morning Sir

Unofficial website

Boghsed on myspace

Bogshed. Brutal.

I love that they were originally called The Amazing Roy North Penis Band. That they made supremely weird, herky-jerky, spazztastic, monstrous, thrash-pop should come as no surprise. Just brilliant in every way.

Brutal

Unofficial website

Bogshed on myspace

Bogshed. Tried and Tested Public Speaker.

Like Captain Beefheart suffering from St. Vitus' dance. You'll find them either terribly fantastic or fantastically terrible. And they will eat you alive.

Public Speaker

Unofficial Website

Bogshed on myspace

Bogshed. Let Them Eat Bogshed.

Bogshed thrash and stomp with all the precision and grace of an amputee ballet recital. Which is to say, actually quite well, but with a rhythm and meter that shocks you out of seeing what's underneath. There was something ingeniously imperfect about them that made them all the more exciting. The more I listen to them, and other like minded bands, the more shocked I am at how little they are remembered. Someone desperately needs to put together a box set of the "Death to Trad Rock" bands.

You can grab a live set from them here.

Eat

Unofficial Bogshed Website

Bogshed on myspace

Bogshed. Live at the Old Cock. Halifax.

Since the Membranes post actually garnered a comment, I thought I'd put up something else in that vein. Like the Membranes (and the Noseflutes, the Shrubs, Jackdaw With Crowbar, and A Witness), Bogshed combined impossibly mangled guitar riffs, sledgehammer bass, and near hysterical, shouty lyrics into something utterly ludicrous but still compellingly melodic. All of their songs seem to be about something, but not being British I have no idea what they're talking about most of the time, which just adds to their absurdist appeal.

They were another one of those bands that actually appeared on the C-86 cassette, although that label seems to be pretty much interchangeable with "twee" these days. There's still something about them that seems quintessentially British, like the words "yob" or "gormy".

I thought they were one of Ron Johnson's deranged cohorts, but a little googling reveals that they were in fact signed to John Robb's Vinyl Drip label. John Robb was in The Membranes, who weren't on Ron Johnson, either. So there's that. Anyway, now that we've gotten that straightened out, here's a pretty good bootleg of one of their live shows.

Old Cock

The unofficial Bogshed site

Bogshed on myspace