Oaf (2)

Two men. One drum kit. One bass guitar. Punk rock with a dash of prog and a hint of wrong. A small man in a tweed suit. A large man in a King Diamond t-shirt. The unmistakable stench of bitterness and shame. The unmistakable sound of horridness and impotent rage. A slap-up dinner at the Raj Pavilion. A calamitous bath-ride down the hill of despair. A ghastly racket to raise the spirits.

And then lower them again.

Welcome, my friends, to the world of the mighty Oaf: the English seaside’s premier exponents of deeply peculiar and obnoxious hardcore pronk. Bereft of ambition and far too old to give a toss, this intermittently dynamic duo have been confusing the merry horse out of audiences across the UK (and not really much further) since 2007. Fronted by chief bellower and five-string wizard Mr. Dom Lawson and just-a-bit-to-the-sided by thing-hitter extraordinaire Mr. James Rayment, Oaf failed to emerge from the Brighton punk rock scene (which has studiously ignored them from day one, which is lovely) when their debut album Botheration assaulted the nation’s indifference back in 2010. Despite garnering numerous highly positive reviews from the likes of Metal Hammer, Kerrang! and Terrorizer (and a handful of misguided and largely illiterate reviews from assorted interweb fanzines) the album sold in meagre quantities and failed miserably to make even the slightest dent in the British hit parade chart list rundown. Fortunately, neither Mr. Lawson or Mr. Rayment are aware of their lack of success and both continue to harbour the ludicrous belief that they are among the UK’s favourite entertainers.