Tag Archives: Therapy

Therapy?, Cleave. Album Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision rating 8.5/10

The urge to smite your enemies is a powerful emotion in which some say you must resist, others take the softer approach, the more forgiving road in which the best way to treat those who have done you wrong is to think of their lives and see the problem through their eyes. To cut down and smash your anger aside or to hold close those who seek to destroy you, either way is up to you, but the impulse to Cleave is a craving that is only satisfied with songs of thunder and the rage of lightning surrounding your ears. It is after all, the finest form of Therapy?

Therapy?, Gig Review. 02 Academy, Liverpool.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10

Therapy at the o2 Academy in Liverpool, March 2018. Photograph by Ian D. Hall

You can over analyse and seek treatment for almost anything, the small ailment through to the overriding sense of disassociation of the age, healing comes with talking and yet there is only one suitable cure for the way the world has turned, and a night of Therapy? is always the best of the Doctor’s orders.

Therapy?, Gig Review. Indigo, London. Stone Free Festival.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10

It always feels right to have some Therapy? in your life, it is just a shame that the therapy some need, all they require, is not available upon the N.H.S., if it was there would be a lot more contented people out there. For the therapy they need comes in the shape and form of one of Northern Ireland’s great bands and as they blew away the Indigo Stage on a Saturday afternoon, as they paved the way for the main event in the other hall, the feeling was perhaps they might have been given the chance to really go to town as one of the big four acts inside the o2 Arena.

Therapy.

I am always in therapy,

the trouble is I am my own private physician

who prescribes too much medication

in the form of dropped words, social

exclusion and my own valueless fears

for which cannot be bought

for they have become too priceless.

 

The University taught me to analyse

the words of others and when I read them now

I wonder how much sub-text goes on

between the sheets, and then I pour scorn

like a never ending jug of milk

from the near sucked off teat