Truman’s Water at Bristol Bierkeller, summer 1993.
Like visitors from Planet Odd, Truman’s Water take to the Bristol Bierkeller stage and transform it into their own secret den – a home from home for mad fuckers.
The Tru’s are a peculiar breed of band. Their music appears structureless, goes off at curious and intangible tangents, is incorrigable and indecipherable… yet tight as yer proverbial gnat’s chuff and damned exciting.
Looking at this lot leap up and down, in and out, on and off stage, whirling their arms like demented squirrels, pacing up and down their stage like very pissed off tigers, it’s all a young man can do to keep from wondering what can possibly be going through their heads.
“Songs” would appear to blend into others. There’s hardly a logical join or space in this mayhem, yet it all sounds so terribly well structured.
Each of the Trumaners seems to know what the other one is doing, though this strict order is way above my head. I’m not sure if I like it. I think I respect it for what it is. And I think there is life on other planets – they just form mad bands.
Live review by Andy Barding. Photograph taken at Bristol Bierkeller by Tramp Boy. This review and picture originally appeared in Frug! fanzine, October 1993.