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The Black Dahlia Murder + Despised Icon + Martyr Defiled + Dyscarna
The plus side to there being a cock up that means you are unable to interview the headliners is that I have the opportunity to watch support band Dyscarnate.
A dark blast of earthy death metal a lá Misery Index meets Behemoth is well appreciated from the London threesome, giving a sinister lining to the cloud that’s hanging over me.
It’s certainly not rocket science, but as a support I was happily surprised at their brutality and proficiency.
The same cannot be said for the abomination that is Martyr Defiled, who pull out every tired cliché in the book, as they push through some turgid deathcore by numbers.
Being confronted by a skinny teenager who’s probably nearly a quarter of my age lecturing me about religion from under his ludicrous bleach blonde fringe was never going to win my vote. Some of the kids lap it up, but as they stop a song mid-churn to call for a wall of death I’m bored beyond belief.
Next it’s more of the same from deathcore icons Despised…erm, Icon.
This is their final tour of duty, having announced much to their legion of fans dismay that they’re calling it a day.
The testosterone brims with the two vocalists cajoling the crowd to pit and beat the living hell out of each other- as if they needed any encouragement.
Breakdown follows breakdown, and snails pace bludgeoning low-end riff follows one after the bloody other, to the point I decide to go grab somewhere to sit whilst they finish.
Oh, and surprise on top of unpredictable surprise: there’s another wall of death.
Snide sniping aside the set passes off well, and with the lower than low-brow sound they are designed to be play live. Whilst others like myself are left cold by the macho simplicity, to others it’s just what the doctor ordered, and when they bid a fond final farewell, to the guys in the pit and a lot of the audience it’s goodbye to one of the scene’s backbone bands.
To people like me it’s good riddance to bad rubbish.
Black Dahlia Murder finally give me something to enjoy and not merely be grudgingly objective about.
Fun is the message given out by portly vocalist Derek, sweating almost from the second he’s onstage and moving around more than most of the crowd.
An ideal front man, he’s accomplished, recognisable, and packed full with more energy than a teenaged girl at a Jonas Brothers concert…whose just been fed crack.
Taking a hardcore vibe but grabbing musical cues from the Gothenburg melo-death scene they hop-leg it relentlessly through neck-snapping paced songs whilst grinning and waving, to the crowd.
Deflorate’s songs pepper the mix of favourites, as ‘What A Terrible Night To Have A Curse’, ‘I’m Charming’, ‘Statutory Ape’, and ‘Funeral Thirst’ rattle past like carriages on a high-speed train.
Then the crowd surfers pitch in, as jovial pandemonium begins to take hold.
Derek tirelessly punches the air to the last through and as they close up the devastate set they’re all drenched in salty bodily fluid (not that one).
Wherever they go next I hope there’s a towel and a shower waiting.
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Fear Factory
In a nutshell: the band split up after the fat guitarist fell out with the rest of the band. Then the rest of the band came back, moving their bassist to guitar and getting a slightly less fat Canadian who played with Strapping Young Lad to play bass. They wrote a good album, a crap album, and went on hiatus in 2006.Their singer then fell out with the other original members, announced a new band with the fat guitarist, who he had realised wasn’t so bad after all, and called it Fear Factory, taking the Strapping bass player with him and grabbing an equally fat drumming legend who also used to play with Strapping to complete the line up.
Tonight though this doesn’t dampen the enthusiasm of the rammed house here to see the celebrated band, even if it’s unclear which one it is.
With a bludgeoning trademark low end machine-gun attack, and an unruly greeting from the assembled, the band blast into the title track of the new Mechanize album.Synchronised strobe lights throb as we rumble and blast our way through, ‘Shock’, ‘Edgecrusher’, and the automaton stomp of ‘Linchpin’.
The band seem clearly marked out between the original members and the hired guns. Burton (vocals) and Dino (guitar) sweat profusely from the get go in the heat, and come up close to the front of the stage to get the crowd going. To Byron and Gene it looks more like a job, hardly breaking a sweat throughout.
But let’s be clear about this. No one cares.
Dino’s name is even chanted, before a slightly less flattering chant of “You fat bastard”. Dino grins and replies, “I’m not the only fat bastard in this band now!” as the portly Gene waves at us from behind his drums.
The only other criticism is that the fine material from the Dino-less comeback album is left out of the set, presumably for legal reasons. The material left to them is great, but there are weaknesses in the set list which stick out like the sorest thumbs where I would rather of heard something from Archetype.
When ‘Replica’ comes out to play it makes no difference to the enjoyment had, and all of the problems, the drama, the back-stabbing, the sheer selfishness of what’s gone on in the wings is forgotten.
It’s a great performance by one of the biggest names in metal of the last couple of decades. Nearly everyone goes away satisfied and tempted to buy a ‘Replica’ shirt, which you can ironically buy replica copies of outside.
Fear Factory has a concrete legacy as a pioneer of metal in recent times, that legacy is only overshadowed by the recent grubby politics.
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30 Seconds To Mars + The Art
A close to sold out crowd packed into Hordern Pavilion tonight, a venue that has hosted some of the best local and international acts throughout its long history.
Already threatening to break the crowd barrier before opening band The Art had even taken to the stage was a good indication of how the rest of the night would proceed.
The Art did exceptionally well playing to the die-hard 30STM fans, with their mix of alt rock tunes that managed to get the crowd on their feet. Their constant references to the headline act however drew the loudest screams and applause.
A white veil donned the front of the stage as the lights faded out for 30STM, and the opening bars for "Escape" built a dramatic tension - to a borderline deafening roar from the crowd. As frontman Jared Leto's silhouette appeared beyond the veil, the crowd was nearly ready to burst at the seams.
Heading straight into 'Night Of The Hunter' (after a massive scream of "THIS IS WAR!") the band played an epic set list, comprising most of the material from their latest album.
Drummer Shannon Leto was at his dynamic best, with each beat of the drum as powerful as the day it was recorded. An unexpected change occurred when the drummer took to the front of the stage, acoustic guitar in tow, to play his poetic, stirring instrumental, "L490" - with guitarist Tomo Milicevic providing an emotive accompaniment.
Acoustic tracks "Alibi" and "100 Suns", plus the reworked version of "Hurricane" were brilliantly powerful in the live setting - building on the opinion that This Is War is an album that is meant to be played live.
The sheer bravery of Jared Leto to appear at the back of the venue, amongst the crowd, guitar in hand during the set - is an area that most bands would fear to tread. However the charismatic leader seemed strangely at home, completely in his element.
What is no doubt the most astounding feat of the night is the level of crowd participation during every single song. Lyrics to songs were screamed and yelled with an unrelenting amount of passion and enthusiasm. It was ultimately clear throughout the night that the band make everything for and about their devoted fans - summed up by Leto screaming, "This is your night tonight!"
Fans, and perhaps those less devoted, couldn't help but being drawn into the experience, almost hanging on every word to escape the frontman's mouth. Evidently, if Jared Leto were to ask you to jump, you could only ask "how high?"
Ultimately, 30STM can no doubt put on less of a show, more a spectacle. The entire band are clearly in their element on stage, engaging with their fans and doing what they love most. And why would they want it any other way?
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William Control
Aiden's Wil Francis brings side project William Control to York's Fibbers.
Upon arrival at the venue we are pleased to see a decent queue, perhaps twenty five excited looking people from a broad mix of demographics, hinting towards the wide appeal of the band, as it goes these dedicated few formed the majority of tonight's audience. What they lacked in numbers they made up for in energy however, as they packed the barrier-less front of the stage and stayed throughout the support acts.
The band comprise of Wil on vocals, Kenneth on guitar and Nick on bass, the black clad, tattooed trio form up at the front of the stage and are backed by a laptop from the rear. Wil takes to the stage smoking, the cigarette's burning end compliments the seedy, brooding red glow emitted by the extra lights on display, throughout the set throbbing strobes emphasise the surreality and pounding beat of the music which varies in influence from Joy Division to KMFDM.
William Control are a very contradictory act, their subject material covering death, suicide, emotional hurt but their ethos and delivery is very much focused on fun, having a good time and dancing. Photographers do not conform to this "vibe" and are requested to shoot the spectacle from the stage! The audience's palpable enthralment, optimised by 'Beautiful Loser', is intensified when Wil joins the crowd and hysteria ensues with hand shaking, hugging of some obvious regulars and dancing akin to the club scene from the first Blade movie with a sense of uncontrolled euphoria.
The live experience ultimately added extra depth to the music. Having listened to the debut Hate Culture and recent release Noir prior to the show I certainly got a lot more out of actually being there and "feeling" the music, which was dispatched from the artists with a passion which, for me at least, didn't quite transcend when received via audio only.
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Heaven's Basement
I first shot Heavens Basement on 5th December 2009 and was recently disappointed to hear that vocalist Richie Heavenz, who had been attributed to the their naming (they used to party in his basement….), had decided to part company with the band at quite short notice.
Bad news for Heavens Basement fans, good news for theFallen’s Johnny Fallen. The York based front man filled in and allowed the ‘Basement to fulfil the remaining tour dates. The rockers have since found a full time replacement in the form of baby faced James Sinclair.
As usual for a Heavens Basement show the venue was packed, the fans were hyped, happy and anxious to meet their new song-smith. Suitably warmed up by the youthful but edgy Frantic Alice and an exceptional set from theFallen the crowd are kept waiting while HB prepare, word of mouth runs free and positive whispers are heard from past shows, it seems James has already made an impression on the dedicated fan base.
Minus the new man, and guitarist Jonny (victim to a football injury!) Heavens Basement come to the stage to rapturous cheers, the intro furthers the suspense, after seemingly an age James makes his appearance. Seminally they open with 'Unbreakable', James visibly giving his all in a dedicated display of reassurance.
Initially I’m unconvinced, visually Sinclair is from a different mould than Richie, he looks fresher, more youthful, cleaner and guy-liner free, leather clad, his voice fits though, and that’s the important bit. Heavens Basement’s fan base is built on the strength of their songs, not the look of their singer. James delivers the catalogue exceptionally, with emotion, confidence and vocal grit that perhaps set him above his predecessor, by the end of 10 song set you’d be forgiven for asking “Richie who?”
Perhaps a renaming is in order, Sinclair’s Penthouse?
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Cattle Decapitation + Gorod + Beyond Terror Beyond Grace
Australians Beyond Terror Beyond Grace deliver a slick set of brutal deathcore. Vocalist Blake Simpson spends most of the set on the wrong side of the barrier, going head to head in the mosh pit with what looks like Eliot from Hollyoaks; occasionally he stands barefoot on the barrier itself. The last song is epic and stirring, ruined only slightly by Simpson slipping and ending up on the floor in the photo pit.
Next up is French fivepiece Gorod, who give an exemplary performance. Their sound could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the best of British death metal, but it has that extra something common to a lot of French bands: a love of melodic guitar solos and riffs, no matter how fast and lead-heavy they are. It’s a rapturous set, as though Gorod are genuinely happy to be here.
In the decade and more that Cattle Decapitation have been making their pro-veggie goregrind, they have garnered rather a large following, and the mood during the interminable soundcheck is expectant. Suddenly they explode into life, the guitar grinding against intricate rhythms as three members of the band provide an awesome display of technical prowess.
Meanwhile, vocalist Travis Ryan, the polite young man I interviewed a few hours ago, has transformed into an eye-rolling, tongue-lolling demon, spewing spit all over his t-shirt and the front rows like a rabid dog. It’s pretty effective: new material like ‘Regret and the Grave’ and ‘Tooth Enamel and Concrete’ are powered through with gob-smacking alacrity and ferociousness.
Older material such as ‘Karma Bloody Karma’ also gets a welcomed airing, as does ‘Testicular Manslaughter’, dedicated to the handful of ‘beautiful ladies’ in the room. As Cattle Decapitation come to the end of their 45 minute set, they look positively knackered, and no wonder. If they perform like that every night of this tour, it’s easy to see why they’re such an underground favourite.
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Orange
Los Angeles couldn’t be further away on a stormy York evening, L.A. originators Orange describe themselves as “pop-punk / power-pop” however based on tonight’s performance I think they are pushing the boundaries into a genre all of their own, something which can only be described as ‘Glee-Rock’.
Orange had a successful 2009, highlights included a European tour with Zebrahead and the release of their third album; the biographically named ‘Phoenix’. The ambiguous title of which may refer to their new state of mind, their new look and new line up, which saw the departures of childhood friends Jack Berglund (Guitars) and Jon DeRing (Guitars) making way for the new rhythm section of Perry Ladish (guitar/vocal) and Alec Gomez (Guitar), positive changes which are evident in Orange’s confidence.
When taking the stage to see a paltry turn out such as Fibbers suffered for the July 14th show a band would be forgiven for getting down hearted, but not these boys. Front man Joe Dexter clearly loves attention, ‘Vogueing’ with Disney Club levels of excitement while his band mates prepare.
Possibly the happiest band in the world, Orange’s lively audience swiftly swallows their emotive aura, the 9 song, Green Day inspired set flies by with Perry taking the lead vocal on occasion. Stand out songs from a generally similar sounding set were ‘Each Other’ and a cover of sing-along-wonder ‘Help’.
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The Plight + Drowned in Flames + Your Dirty Secret + UtoXator
Leeds based hardcore rockers The Plight come to York’s Fibbers, a relatively local destination for this well-travelled band. Having formed in 2004 the band toured the length and breadth of the country gradually progressing up the ranks, sharing the stage with the likes of Gallows, Converge, Poison The Well and Cancer Bats.
The Plight's first full-length album Winds of Osiris was released in 2009 to much anticipation following the success of mini album Black Summer in 2007. The album was embraced by the rock press dubbing it “one of the best punk bands in the UK right now” from Rock Sound, and my personal favourite quote from Punktastic “one bastard of an album".
With these info-bytes in my head I was looking forward to the live show, support on the evening was of good standard, first provided by Leeds based UtoXator, then a raunchy performance from aptly branded Your Dirty Secret and finally from York’s own Drowned In Flames who I see all too often but actually raised their bar tonight, likely due to the quality of the headliners.
The Plight briskly comes to the stage bang on time with biblical ferocity and an eruption of guitars and frantic drums. Powering through the first three songs, vocalist Alistair Mancrief only briefly pausing to vault the barrier where he stayed till the end of the set. I found their sound hard to describe; it has all the positives of a combination of pre-mariachi Bronx and the pace/minimalism of Motörhead, but there are strong links to Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster which run deeper than their love of getting in the crowd.
‘Trigger’ and ‘Winds (of Osiris)’ round off the bill and the climatic nature of the songs provide the highlight of the evening. Album title track ‘Winds' particularly stands out, its definitive drum beat and heavy riff reminiscing of 70’s heyday Deep Purple whilst Alistair’s raw vocals claw their way from within his strained body and he flails amongst the crowd.
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Man Must Die + The Rotted + Sworn Amongst
It's a Sunday so things are a little quiet in Sheffield, but they
don't stay quiet for long. In Corporation's small room playing to a
raucous handful we have braved the modern terrors of a reduced bus
service and meagre shop opening times to catch some metal.
Thrash metal from the deepest darkest Hull is brought to us by Sworn
Amongst, who battle against some sound difficulties to bring metal
that doesn't sound a million miles away from Lamb of God, maybe mixed
with Testament. Original might not be the word to choose, but
"headbangaliciousfun" is. While they may not come across as the most
professional act they give everything required, and play with gleeful
enthusiasm in spite of the sparse crowd numbers. Playing in support of
their recent Severance album we get treated to 'Numb' as a closer
before they retire to a deserved chorus of cheers.
London's The Rotted were last here to a far bigger audience on the
Alestorm tour, but tonight it's clear that the gig space isn't going
to get anywhere near capacity. I honestly can't understand why because
they are fucking incredible. Most of the songs come from their new
incarnation and taken from their "debut" Get Dead Or Die Trying, which
includes tracks of brilliant cockney grimness like 'the Howling' and
'the Angel of Meth.' We are treated to new tracks from the Anarchogram
EP, with an absolutely stonking cover of Motörhead's 'Iron Fist' and
two new brilliant songs 'Dawn of a New Error' and 'Drink Myself to
Death'. It's a little frustrating one of the hottest bands in English
metal at the minute isn't playing to packed rooms. But such is life, I
think to myself as we dance round in a death metal conga-line to 'the
Body Tree'. That's right. DEATH METAL CONGA-LINE!
Following nearly wetting myself in the good way to the punk-death
metal hybrid of 'A Return to Insolence' a brilliant set rounds off
with 'Nothin' But a Nosebleed.'
Fantastic, furious and fun.
Sworn Amongst blast some Glaswegian brutality at us next but after the
Rotted they seem painfully average and painfully...painful. Their
sound relies on a technical flurry of scraping notes and riffing which
doesn't work well with the muddy sound, and the mix on the bass makes
it extraordinarily loud. So loud that my colleague Joe Richards for
the first time over the years I've known him wishes he had ear plugs.
They're technically proficient, and there's no denying they sound evil
and nasty, but not necessarily in a good way. Vocalist Joe McGlynn
aggressively tries to instil action and gets the four kids at the
front pitting, but everyone else politely nods their heads despite his
attempts. They finish up a little early and I must say on behalf of my ears that I'm not sorry.
Tonight belonged to the Southerners.
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Green Day + Joan Jett and the Blackhearts + Frank Turner
Since 9am, fans had been waiting outside Lancashire County Cricket Club, so they could get a close view of their idols. The queue built up quickly, and 4pm (the door opening time) couldn't come sooner, with the immense heat making it uncomfortable for the largely black clad crowd.
First on the bill was British folk-punk singer/songwriter Frank Turner. The ex-Million Dead frontman kicked off his set with the entirely acoustic 'The Real Damage', with his backing band making an appearance half way through the song for the next track in a somewhat unprofessional manner. The set comprised of mainly singles, and the sound was on par with studio versions. Not many knew the words to his music, and his sound didn't seem to impress the excited youngsters that had already waited all day to see their favourite band.
Joan Jett and the Blackhearts were the second support act, with an 80s rock and roll sound and a true feisty frontwoman that the younger GD fans were unable to appreciate. Opening with 'Bad Reputation' was a good choice, everyone knew it (thanks to Shrek), but as far as many were concerned The Blackhearts were just standing in the way between them and their heroes. They played many of the popular tracks, but the unresponsive crowd wouldn't even join in when asked to clap or told the words to sing along. Miss Jett dedicated 'Victim Of Circumstance' to Mike Dirnt, getting everyone's attention for a moment, then losing it again once they started playing. 'I Love Rock And Roll' went down well, but it wouldn't have made any difference whether it was a live performance, or a recording played through the stage speakers. A fantastic set from a mature frontwoman, shame the immature Green Day fans didn't have respect for an obvious influence on the band they adore so much.
It had already been a long day, with many worrying if they'd be able to get another day off school to recover, when a large pink bunny entered the stage, stumbling around, downing full bottles of beer, and scratching himself inappropriately. This meant that the legendary Green Day would be taking to the stage soon.
'Song Of A Century' was blasted through the monitors, as Mike D and Tre Cool entered to wild screams, but nothing could prepare the ears for the raucous sound made when Billie Joe Armstrong made his entrance. As soon as the frontman started playing, everyone in the arena was hanging on his every word and motion. The setlist was cleverly split into 3 sections; starting with a selection from 21st Century Breakdown, opening with the title track. A small girl was dragged up on stage for 'East Jesus Nowhere'- and brilliantly collapsed, as requested by Billie Joe, as an explosion ended the song. Next came tracks from American Idiot, mainly the singles, as well as 'Give Me Novacaine' and 'Are We the Waiting'.
A positive surprise was the large amount of older tracks played, including some that haven't been involved in live performances for quite a few years, especially 'Nice Guys Finish Last'. There was the usual covers of famous riffs, with AC/DCs 'Highway To Hell' leading up to 'Brain Stew'.
As Billie Joe rolled his eyes from side to side, the crowd went crazy, as this indicated huge hash anthem 'Basket Case'.
The highlight of the show had to be 'King For A Day'- not only is it an exceptional song, but it also meant the band dressed up, and indulged in a few Green Day-fied covers ('Teenage Kicks', 'Satisfaction', 'Champagne Supernova', 'Hey Jude'), but the most memorable part was Lulu's 'Shout'- in which Billie Joe swapped places with Tre (aka Christina Aguilera according to BJ) who, clad in a floppy hat and bra, cockily swaggered around the stage dancing and singing the same one line of the song again and again.
Encore One consisted of two more singles from American Idiot, while Encore Two (yes, there were two) was simply 3 of the bands ballads. The perfect cool down for a hugely energetic, fun filled evening.
As much as I hate it when it's all about the frontman, it's difficult not to be with Green Day. Billie Joe oozes confidence and mesmerizes all with his stunning showmanship. This, along with all the fireworks, explosions and stage decorations make for an unbeatable experience, and the true meaning of a live show.
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Deftones + Steak Number Eight
After 4 years, the new offering from Deftones (Diamond Eyes) is finally out and to promote this the experimental metal band from Sacramento is out on tour- Sergio Vega handling bass duties, taking over from Chi Cheng who is still recovering from his 2008 car accident.
The AB is sold out tonight and the 1,800 strong crowd are very excited to be there, all the more due to the fact that Deftones is a band well known for being better in smaller venues than at festivals.
A post-metal experimental Belgian band start the night with Steak Number Eight taking to the stage. The band recently played Groezrock festival, but their performance, although interesting, was nothing special. However playing before Deftones for a young band is always going to be difficult.
At 8.45pm the lights are turned off, the audience applauds and whistles and it's time for Deftones to go on stage for 90 minutes of concert.
To start the show, Deftones play 3 songs of the new album ('Rocket Skates', 'Diamond Eyes' and 'CMND/CTRL') and it's great to find the same loud and modern sound works live as well as on the album.
The band looks happy to be welcomed by the people and the crowd are equally excited. The motivated crowd sings and moves to the songs: 'My Own Summer (Shove It)', 'Lotion', 'Elite', and the amazing 'Passenger' original sung with Tool's singer Maynard James Keenan, from White Pony.
It's great to see Sergio on the stage, now he is a real member of the band and he looks like he's having a good time. Like the others members he's got a good energy on stage. Abe is always amazing, an awesome drummer, always playing to perfection!
Chino was even more motivated than the last time I saw him, jumping about everywhere. The setlist is well put together, with a variety of songs including 'Around the Fur', 'My Own Summer', 'Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away)', as well as 'Change (In the House of Flies)' and 'Birthmark'. The new songs are well chosen and the crowd already know the lyrics! When the end is near approaching, 'Lotion' & 'My Own Summer' especially make the crowd go crazy.
After a big ovation, to close the show, Deftones play 2 more songs, 'Root' and '7 Words' - a really the good choice to finish the concert. All the people in the venue were clearly happy to be there and pleased to see this "rare" performance from the band.
http://www.myspace.com/deftones
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The Flatliners + The Human Project + The Living Daylights + Acid Drop
The Brudenell Social Club is a small venue, in the middle of Leeds' student district, hidden behind the larger Royal Park pub. Quite an unusual venue for an overseas band, but has an excellent sound compared to other pubs and clubs in the city.
First up were Acid Drop, local lads, who despite being a guitarist short (his wife had gone into labour), pulled off a brilliant set of straight-up punk rock. Stand out tracks were 'I Will Not Forget You'- a heartfelt dedication to a close friend that took his own life; 'Winston Smith'- the bands ska-iest tune, featuring the local legend that is Stash (unfortunately the crowd didn't know the Dead Pets, so couldn't appreciate his presence); and 'Societies Rejects' a true middle-finger-in-the-air punk anthem. There wasn't much of a crowd for the Drop, and their sound didn't really fit in with the other bands on the bill, but they still had a laugh as usual.
Next to take to the stage were Lincoln's The Living Daylights, a band who formed to "bring Lincoln's punk scene to the world". Live though, they seemed to be more melodic hardcore than punk. Their sound consisted of heavy melodies, occasional double vocals and the odd breakdown, which seemed to go down better with the (slowly) increasing number of The Flatliners fans. They played a mix of old and new songs, including 'Melancholy' from 2008's Ways To Escape, and 'New Roads' from their as yet unreleased new album, but most of the crowd didn't seem to know them. They impressed the majority and went away with a few new fans, even though they didn't seem as fun as the previous band and all their songs sounded similar.
By now, the venue had filled up nicely, just in time for The Human Project. Another local band, this one featuring Random Hand's ex drummer, Joe Dimuantes. Now, Joe has ditched the sticks for a 4-string, and ditched the skacore for a more typical hardcore punk sound. Straight away, there was a Rise Against feel to the band, mainly because vocalist Jonny sounds a lot like Tim McIlrath. They were punkier than the band before them, but somehow didn't prove to be as popular. They also seemed friendlier, and chatted more between songs, including the singer delivering an odd anecdote about his bowel movements (you had to be there). Even though they weren't the most interesting band to see live, they were more entertaining and human than The Living Daylights, and appeared to be doing what they do for all the right reasons.
Out came the headliners, The Flatliners. This was the Canadian quartet's third time playing in Leeds, and their first time headlining, perhaps explaining why they were playing to less than 100 people. They opened the set with 'Mother Teresa Chokeslams The World' from 2007's The Great Awake. So far, the crowd didn't seem very lively. The second song was a punkier offering, livening the crowd up a touch. Vocalist Chris sounded more screamy live than on record, which worked better with the new songs. Not long into the set, Chris decided to declare he was nauseous, blame it on a dodgy take-away, and warn the crowd he may throw up on them any minute (as throwing up on the stage would make it slippery!). On the setlist, was a mixture of their entire back- catalogue, but mostly songs from 2010's Cavalcade. The highlight of the set was one of the ska infused numbers from 2005's Destroy To Create, 'Fred's Got Slacks'. This, as well as the other ska songs, didn't appeal to the fans as much as their newer material. They closed with 'Run Like From' from their 2009 split with The Snips. Overall, The Flatliners weren't very enthralling to watch, and other than 1 rather enthusiastic fan, nobody seemed excited by the band they'd paid to see. At some points it was hard to tell where one song finished and the next started. It was nice to see them high-five, shake hands and chat to fans afterwards though.
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Kyte + Tomorrow We Sail + Glissando
I must admit, I had only heard a little of Kyte before I went to see them live. From what I had heard, I liked, so I was a quite excited and interested to see what they would be like live, and in a small local venue.
The first band to adorn the lamp-lit stage was Glissando, a male and female duet who normally tour as a band, they told us. Their sound was so mellow; the attendees took to sitting on the floor in a bohemian type fashion and proceeded to be lured into a melodic spell. The female singer had an angelic, sharp voice that accompanied the keyboard and guitar perfectly.
The next band, Tomorrow We Sail, was a great deal livelier but still soft enough for the gig-goers to remain sitting on the floor. They are a six piece band and include bass, guitars, keyboard, cello, violin and drums. Definitely a must see. The band fit together perfectly in a muddled sort of way, and the male vocals alone are powerful, however when the band did a harmony in the song “Beacons”, the whole room seemed to come together in one big musical trance.
And finally, the headlining band, Kyte, took to the stage. Opening with IHNFSA, from their new album, Dead Waves, I was instantly mesmerized. The band, comprising four members, Tom (guitar and keyboards), Scott (drums), Ben (bass guitar) and Nick (vocals), brought to the stage a wave of electronic rapture. It was bliss. These were songs made for loved ones and good times. It was ambience at its best. The band exudes a down-to-earth, modest charm and had the lovely touch of having the bass player, Ben Cox, selling merchandise at the end (I made sure I got a free badge, while my friend got herself a T-shirt). My only criticism? I wish they’d played a longer set. I could have listened to Kyte for hours.
www.myspace.com/kyteband
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Dance Gavin Dance + In Fear and Faith + The Ocean Between Us
Upon arriving at the venue there was some confusion over who was actually on the bill tonight. Like many others I was disappointed after hearing Asking Alexandria had dropped out of this tour, but super excited when it was announced they were to be replaced by Azriel... who unfortunately then also had to pull out, after their lead singer David lost his voice. A promoter’s nightmare no doubt, but we still have three bands to enjoy tonight.
First on the stage are the Leeds boys, The Ocean Between Us. I don’t know if they were a last minute addition to the line-up or not, but it’s good to see a small local band like these guys sharing the stage with the touring American bands.
I have seen TOBU play a few times now and tonight wasn’t the best set for them. Judd’s vocals were lost in a mic that didn’t seem loud enough, then halfway through the third song Ben’s bass strap decided to give way. Never the less the band gave it their all during 'Begin The End' and managed to get a few heads nodding in the crowd.
After a short sound check In Fear and Faith appear on the stage. I honestly didn’t know what to expect from the American six piece but I was totally won over by their set. Admittedly the vocals weren’t quite up to scratch due to both singers recovering from illness. This however didn’t affect their great on stage presence and performance.
Personal highlight has to be there cover of Coolio’s 'Gangster’s Paradise', and judging by the crowd’s reaction it’s a hit with everyone.
Finishing up with a ‘Taste Of Regret’ In fear and faith leave the stage leaving me wanting more. They definitely have a new fan here.
For some reason there is a delay while Dance Gavin Dance set their gear up, but Will Swan (guitarist) takes the time to come out and talk to the fans. For the youngsters around me it has clearly made there day, one lad even says to his mate: "this is the best day of my life", after giving him a handshake. Unfortunately this talk has the opposite effect on me, as it's obvious he has had a few too many pre-gig refreshments. Once the band finally appear this seems to be the case for the other four members, and the first few songs seem to be a little thrown together, with the odd notes missed here and there. I get the feeling though that the large group of screaming girls to the right of me aren’t particularly bothered about any of this, so I try to watch with an open mind.
As the set continues things definitely heat up, and my earlier complaints are long forgotten. ‘Don’t tell Dave’ and ‘Me and Zoloft Get Along Fine’ were the two stand out songs. Both of which were backed up by the crowd going crazy for them. All too soon the band leaves the stage, but re-appears to finish up with ‘Alex English’, a fitting end for any DGD fan.
Tonight hasn’t been quite as good as I had originally hoped for but nevertheless I have been introduced to some new bands- which in my book is always a winner!
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Emarosa + Deaf Havana + We Don't Dance To Love Songs
For an opening band they have to get you even more excited for what's to come, but We Don't Dance To Love Songs could hardly achieve applause. The choice of whether to blame for microphone troubles or just simply the wrong band to start with is up to you.
Deaf Havana as you may know by now are one man down, due to vocalist Ryan Mellor quitting earlier this month. This certainly doesn't detract from the experience, in fact it strengthens them as a band- sharing the vocal duties whilst still sounding really good.
Emarosa are one of those bands that you know are great- playing well, and their singer is regarded as the best of today
Yet they don't get the recognition they deserve, not helped by manufactured kid-singers like Justin Bieber making people wonder: "Music scene, what happened?"
If all that has gone over your head, or you simply don't believe me, the proof is in the pudding. Their live show.
People all over, especially in the UK go mental just to touch Jordan, Will or Jonny. On many occasion their singer Jonny Craig was dragged from the speakers and made to crowd surf. Hardcore fans indeed.
The music is where the meat is, and every song played off their debut album shows variety and range. Whether it's melody overdosed 'What's a Clock Without the Batteries' or slower placed song "Sailing in the Dark Isn't Smart Kid" are all backed with perfect instrumentals and even greater vocals.
New song "Toast To The Future" sounds a lot more moody while still retaining characteristics of Relativity. Encore song 'Casablanca' was a great nod to the old school even though they rejected 'Utah But I'm Taller' after cruelly teasing us.
The guitars may not pummel you with ear screeching solos but they prove less is more. In spades. They sound just as good live as on record, even with the many technical problems they kept facing. All inside a nice intimate setting giving you ample chance to connect with your favourite band and high five Jonny Craig made for a great gig.
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Jaguar Love + The Finest Hour
Opening the night with the contagious ‘Battle Scars’, it soon becomes clear that Cleethorpes four-piece The Finest Hour have four very talented members. The drumming is tight with Keith Moon-style tumbling rolls, the bassist exudes cool confidence, the frontman plays guitar, and the guitarist is also a good singer.
The result is a rich, vibrant sound, still managing to retain a pleasant, shambolic quality- as though the whole thing is being thrown together on the spur of the moment. This is enhanced by the frontman, who prances restlessly around the stage barefoot until he stands on something painful. Otherwise he has plenty of attitude and uses random shouts and harmonica interludes to bring the songs to life.
They sound a little like The Libertines, but less folky and with marginally more clichéd lyrics. Some songs are laced with retro punk, echoing The Jam or Dead Formats, including new single ‘Move On’. The Finest Hour have exceeded many expectations tonight, but any band who can enthusiastically play to less than twenty people in a city centre heatwave deserves a massive pat on the sweaty back.
On the other hand, ‘enthusiastic’ would be the understatement of the century in reference to tonight’s headliners, Jaguar Love.
In a way, they’re a reincarnation of cult art-rockers Blood Brothers, with Johnny Whitney, the voice that made them shine, is in his element and on top form. But their sound has a more poppy, electro-disco, sunny day feel, especially on songs like ‘Cherry Soda’ taken from new album Hologram Jams.
After forcing all fifteen members of the crowd to come up to the front, Whitney bounces around the stage for a full hour like a kid at a party who’s had too many skittles. His voice is unbelievably high and strong, even when singing uninventive lyrics like on ‘We Started a Fire’. Tracks from 2008’s Take Me to the Sea sound even more amazing in contrast, with just that tiny bit more edge of darkness and Blood Brothers grunge. ‘Bats Over the Pacific Ocean’ in particular is lyrically and musically a cut above any of their new material.
The band’s new drummer is doing well, although it’s a shame some elements are pre-recorded, guitarist Cody Votolato is hunkered down and blitzing through ‘Highways of Gold’ and the summery ‘Polaroids and Red Wine’. He asks how the crowd is doing, saying “It’s hot up here…” which earns a few titters. It’s got to be thirty degrees in here, but Johnny Whitney doesn’t seem to notice, pogoing dangerously close to the edge and to the amp stack, flicking sweat everywhere, and infallibly reaching those incredible notes.
It’s a shimmering rainbow of a set, which ultimately deserved a better (and possibly air-conditioned) venue. But then, Night and Day Café is legendary. The fairy lights are a nice touch, and there aren’t many places where you have to push past the headliners to get to the toilet.
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Shield Your Eyes + Pneu
I knew something that perhaps only four other people in the room did. I was in on it. So when I saw the two Frenchmen setting up their instruments I stuck close to them. I’m talking balls-on-thigh-close. Observing the mix of knowing grins and gormless looks it suddenly became apparent who had seen this band before.
Having seen them previously I knew to get as close as possible, armed with earplugs (essential for this band) and let the human-amphitheatre slowly come together around the band. Given the close proximity of the crowd, the drummer counted a one-two-three-four off on a spectator’s pint glass and Pneu launched in to their assault. What followed was a blur, you can insert all the math-rock buzz words here: jazzy, angular, dissonant, wandering time signatures, techy et al. To join those adjectives together would be understating Pneu, more accurate but still falling short would be: jazzy-as-fuck, angular-as-fuck, time-signiturey-as-fuck and, of course, techy-as-fuck.
They induce two reactions from the crowd, a wide-mouthed disbelief at the how the blur of arms and constantly mobile fingers are playing to the same track and smiles. Smiles that know that their owners are watching one of the best, most challenging live acts around.
This gig was free, and there is no better concert in the country when Pneu play. “It takes a lot of money to look this cheap,” Dolly Parton famously said. It must take a lot of time and work to sound as messy as Shield Your Eyes, all rough-and-ready DIY fuzz, both accomplished and a lesson in boisterous-merrymaking.
SYE co-headline the show and having to follow Pneu is no enviable task. So, credit where credit is due, SYE were stunning. Stef’s guitar work is fascinating. He started with five strings and proceeded to rip them off as they were not required for the tracks that followed. By the end off the set he was left with three strings, two capos and a guitar that looked like he picked it up in a rag and bone.
Rooted in blues but crossing the borders of punk, post-hardcore and grunge, the guitar squeaks and eeks through each track like a demented siren, proving there is no need for refinement in music. Warp-style dill ‘n’ bass approach to drumming is what keeps the structure of the band. Quite what the drum-kit said to piss him off is not known, but Henri’s striking is precise and jabs like hot needles to the retina.
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65daysofstatic + Loops Haunt + Nedry
Nedry is a very interesting offering, combining melodic post-rock and some electronics with elements of Dubstep. They sound mostly quite airy and unlike their tubby sleazy namesake from the film Jurassic Park. They're not bad, although at one point I'm aware that I'm cutting their singer more slack for her, at times, slightly jarring wailing, because she has that kooky foreign charm that excuses singers like Björk from acting weird. That's fine by me- and we got to recite our favourite lines from Jurassic Park at each other throughout which is no bad start. Would certainly date again.
The same can't be said for Loops Haunt, a one man act whose dissonant glitch electronics has flash in the pan moments of being interesting but quite often just infuriates. It feels disjointed, and just when there's a good sample or effect being used it gets jarred by not gelling well into the body of loops, tracks and sounds. Also as someone remarks "it's just a bloke, flicking switches." It is, but if you're aware of that then you know something's not going right.
65daysofstatic once set their goal to play the Octagon, and as they mark this landmark moment they come on to a swathe of applause from the assembled crowd, embarking on a truly awesome set. 'Tiger Girl', 'Weak04' and 'Come To Me' all greet us from the new album and there's more than enough opportunity to bust-a-move with 'Dance Dance Dance', even though most of the crowd seem happy to remain static (pun intended, albeit not very good).
The only downside is the stage dialogue. As we are treated to such cock-blockers as what we had for breakfast, and given road directions; making for an experience akin to bedding Lindsay Lohan- looks and feels great, so long as no one says anything.
With electronic gear and drums littering the stage- the band members wander between them throughout, creating a sound which is as much technological marvel and infectious as it is glorious in it's pure instrumental format.
Finishing up with a big finale of electronic cacophony and an encore of newbie 'Debutante' and the old favourite 'Radio Protector', they conclude a wonderful performance of their unique brand of electronica fused post-rock that sears away the election's worries.
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Testtone3 + Rosie + The Jack-Stops
You always know you're at a good gig when some kid ends up on the floor in the middle of a pit. These sorts of shenanigans that support acts bring determine the atmosphere for the headliners, in this case, the dance infused rock band that are Testtone3.
Prior to Rosie were The Jack-Stops, cool, controlled and riddled with boyish charm. From a visual perspective, they are a group of mismatched lads but they do have one thing in common, a passion for music. The York band may not gel particularly well based solely on image but their sound oozes potential and individuality. Deep and gritty vocals from front man, Jules Lawrence, are accompanied by a delicious blend of pin pricking synth, catchy riffs and throbbing beats, despite drummer Chris Iyer's minor hand injury. Their stripped down cover of The Coral's "Dreaming Of You" was raw yet hypnotic and showed off Lawrence's vocals particularly well.
Luckily, second slot support, alternative rock band Rosie, were feeling generous and showered their audience with the gift of bloody good music. Never ones to hold back, Rosie closed their consistant set by dragging various members of The Jack-Stops and Testtone3 creating a big super group to soak up their sheer musical brilliance like one thirsty sponge.
Time for the good stuff, headliners Testtone3. Plugging their EP and just playing an amazing set, the crowd grew and so did the good mood. Their sound is seemingly hard to articulate but basically, they seamlessly fuse dance and rock. Bez-like programmer Richard Precious added humour to the set which was refreshing and their feel good tunes penetrated ear drums, filling Fibbers with pure delight.
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NME Radar Tour
NME's Radar Tour comes to The Duchess, York. Featuring headliners Hurts, Everything Everything, Darwin Deez and local boys The Federals. The NME Radar Tour is a renowned platform for showcasing the best in new music, last year’s featured Marina and The Diamonds, who you cannot escape from now. This year’s line-up of hype bands included Darwin Deez, Everything Everything and Hurts, the final spot filled by York’s own The Federals. First on The Federals played an excellent set of their own branded rock which musically held its own with the other acts. Disappointingly for a "sold out" gig the crowd were sparse and lacklustre. Darwin Deez are an indie band from New York City, they take their name from their front man; Darwin Deez. Admittedly I have been listening to the album almost everyday for the last few weeks, Darwin's folk driven voice and simple melodic-soft-rock guitar makes it compulsive listening, notably Darwin's guitar is strung with only 4 strings. Their sound translates excellently to the live show, with no introduction they proceed to play through the majority of the album with "constellations" getting arguably the best reception of the whole night. Highlight of the set is the impromptu dance routines offered by the band between songs, Beyonce's "Single Ladies" and The Bangles' "Walk Like an Egyptian" are performed with comic flair akin to Fat Boy Slim's Praise You video. Everything Everything draw their members from Kent and Manchester, their sound is heavily influenced by Radiohead and The Beatles. Named in the BBC's Sound of 2010 list the band are deemed to offer "a way forward for the stale indie scene". I'd have to disagree, although entertaining and enjoyable, their set left no impression and was quickly forgotten. Hurts feature on the BBC list in fourth position and also hail Manchester, the reason for their inclusion became clear as soon as they took the stage; Immaculately presented, Theo Hutchcraft and Adam Anderson have a definitive image which screams "The Crays", with slick hair, polished Brogues and Saville Row suits, when a comb is produced from the singers pocket you’d be forgiven for mistaking it for a cut throat razor. Self described as “Dance music for depression” their dark yet optimistic sound reminds of White Lies and Joy Division crossed with LCD Soundsystem. | |||
Deathfest: The Second Coming
This May Day bank holiday weekend has seemingly seen the end of sunny weather, and in the very bowels of the Leeds union the dark clouds of deathly metal gather to rend a storm upon us.
The first band we manage to catch are The Way of Purity. Entirely clad in balaclavas, aside from their singer who has opted for a feminine mask, they play a curious mix of nihilistic extreme metal with electronics and keyboard but aside from this interesting experimental flair, and occasional flash of tenderness when their singer lays off the yelling to use her clean vocals, the result is nothing to write home about.
Dawn of Chaos gives some death metal that is worthy of remark purely because of the disgusting, funny, and occasionally misogynistic, laddish comments from their geordie singer. Their sound is way too heavy on the bass, but they provide the first enjoyment of the day through the medium of songs about fisting and bodily fluid.
Volition are an enthusiasm sapping doom band, and not in the good way. They slowly push through their set complete with some rather strange/daft high-pitched wails and do nothing for yours truly.
Infestation come onto the main stage and, as is becoming a theme, have rather off sound levels. They are also remarkably loud, and deliver some low brow death metal that, whilst rather average, has the added points of probably being audible in the next county.
Palehorse’s sludge-doom is disappointing, and we leave them to go watch Amputated who get us off the mark as first outright awesome band of the day. Musically they don’t necessarily do anything exceptional but Morbid Mark’s brilliant pig squeals and robot-like vocals, combined with a truly remarkable use of what can best be described as narratives on the disorders of lady-bits, provide some head banging entertainment that brings smiles and hails alike. Having a song called ‘Cunt Like A Sewer’ stands you in good stead it seems.
Fukpig complete with masks and Mick Kenney of Anaal Nathrakh fame and fortune are truly superb. In your face blasting epic crust-inflected death metal is always going to get things moving, and the stage and pit becomes crowded with that certain type of bald, stocky men that always seems to populate these events. Stage dives and pitting are utterly relentless and punk energy-death metal infusion is enough to make me sorry they’re not on for longer.
Italians Hour of Penance are one of those love or loath death metal bands that either get people rabid and mental with praise or disgust. As it is their performance doesn’t make me look up very often, and whilst their style is commendably muscular it is also painfully mind-numbing and yields nothing remarkable.
Singapore 3-piece Wormrot are hot property on the grindcore circuit at the minute- which coincidentally is how long their songs tend to last. Rampaging with the savagery of Pig Destroyer and the infectious rhythmic inflections of Municipal Waste they are non-stop fun that almost makes you want to dance as much as mosh. A rapid fire set with tracks like ‘Born Stupid’ finishes all to soon, and the last we see of the singer he’s being carried by the crowd towards the back of the venue in the direction of the toilets. We are later helpfully informed by the drummer that, “he was gonna have a shit!”
Negura Bunget are another band who we wish had a longer set. A big name in post black metal, they justify their reputation and give us a cultured, brooding performance of pitch perfect proportions, evoking the character of Romanian folk music through traditional instruments and pagan styles. A dynamic performance that provides some much needed variety and sophistication, it makes them to many the band of the festival. No argument here.
Abgott pile-on the metal awesomeness with the same enthusiasm they apply make-up and face paint. Complete with additional fangs and contact lenses Agamoth becomes a contender for the best front-man of the festival- giving us rousing speeches that brings out the feelings of camaraderie, and playing guitar from the audience whilst everyone goes nuts around him. Amongst the utterly monstrous extreme metal blasts we are treated to a rendition of the Megadeth classic ‘Holy Wars…The Punishment Due’ that has everyone fired up more than a church in Norway in the '90s. At the closer they feel like heroes, after a performance a band twice their stature would feel proud of. Brilliant.
Ramesses deal out some brilliant doom that puts earlier performances from similar bands on the bill to shame. The monolithic rocking riffs pushes all the right buttons and despite some technical mishaps where the vocals microphone stops working it does nothing to mar the inspired set.
Headliners Immolation are a band I’ve never fully understood, and they’re loved by just as many as those who have incomprehension for their sound. The grumblings and rumblings of their set leaves my opinions unchanged. Disjointed and slightly off-beat, they remind of a somewhat drunken Meshuggah, but it is clear though that to the faithful they’re gods. Their show is without fault, with tracks for the converted like ‘I Feel Nothing’ coming through crisp and strong. Tight sound, accompanied by rousing heart-felt thanks to the fans as “the life-blood of this scene”, they really encompass the spirit of the event and go down well if not universally adored.
Brujeria are both odd as a choice for a headline band, as well as being peculiar in general. With members from Carcass and Napalm Death in their ranks the combination of the death/grindcore sound with staccato Mexican vocals is certainly different- or as one of my colleagues had it, “differently shit.” Whilst that may not be everyone’s assessment it certainly is a curious idea. As the band throw themselves into it whilst wearing bandito bandannas over their faces. The two vocalists, with comically cut holes in their own facial wear to speak through, give us some amusing speeches on the subjects in-line with their Mexican drug lord gimmick which the crowd lap it up with savage aplomb- so much so that a man who takes a bad fall from the stage causes a 10 minute pause in the set and has to be taken out for medical assistance.
The remainder of the final set of the festival passes off well, but as the curtain closes on this br00tal event this final performance is quite possibly indicative of Deathfest overall, being good but not exceptional.
With plenty of decent bands but not quite so many heavy hitters; this year was certainly a sturdy brawler, but not quite a killer.
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