Foot Hair are a five-man punk metal band with song titles that are blatantly hostile. Casual Rape, Miserable Faggot, and Harlequin Baby to name a few are patently shocking when read verbatim. What is it we presume from just that? Decadence? Anarchy? Vulgarity?
Well, as far as Foot Hair the band goes, they are, in person, absolute gentleman. Avid music aficionados, engaging and very conversational, the two members in attendance – Sam and Tom (the remaining three – Matt, Pete and another Tom – are scattered across the country when we meet) are paradoxically the absolute opposite to what might be expected from men who come up with such controversial subject matter. I don’t particularly like it, but I accept that their style and content is reflective of the scene in which they run. After all, metal, punk, and grindcore musicians have never been PC or for that matter reticent in being outspoken. However, what I can say about Foot Hair is that they’re not attention-grabbing polemics in the least. Their aspirations are far more humble for that to be the case.
They came together on a fortuitous day. “We got our name from a winning dog we all put some money on,” says Sam, “and we all bought guitars and it went on from there.”
They hadn’t even played properly before that: this was a sort of ‘the penny drops’ moment where they thought why not have a go. Ironically, they are gracefully sincere in the skills they’ve assembled from self-tuition: “We’re not that good musically,” says Tom, “Our songs are very rudimentary. There’s basically one riff played over and over again.”
“With whiney, gritty, horrible vocals,” adds Sam. “It comes from music we listen to, so it reflects that.” These influences include more American hardcore punk rock groups like Drunks With Guns and Stick Men with Ray Guns and singers like Larry Lifeless from Adolf Satan. Like I said, politically correct doesn’t figure.
Faggot Hair’s songs are generally very noisy and loud with little change in the musical arrangements, topped off with vocals that sound like a drunken man is spitting indecipherable words into the mic. Easy listening it is not, something they recognise: “We like to sound unpleasant,” says Tom, “but also for it to be something that you can dance to.”
Nice chaps indeed but I can confidently say that beyond their warm personalities only a select few will like their music. It’s like black scorpions on your dinner table. Not in Newcastle, but Beijing, sure. If you fancy biting into a dangerous insect with no sense of expectation, then maybe take a shot a Faggot Hair at a local venue near you. Or, if you really want to be sold, here’s Tom with an incentive:
“We often get lots of nudity. Generally fat old hairy males with beards.”
Published in Narc Magazine