Christopher Nosnibor
A damp Sunday night in Leeds. Hardly the day of the week or the conditions to draw the crowds out. But when you’ve got Delilah Bon making a return to Leeds after quite some time away to headline a charity fundraiser, it’s a different matter. Sold out fully two months in advance, all profits from the show are going to three charities that will support immigrants impacted by ICE detention and family separation (Women’s Foundation of Minnesota, American Civil Liberties Union, and The Bond Between).
There’s a substantial queue a good quarter of an hour before doors, and most of those head straight to the front on entry. The stage is plastered with placards, and many people have turned up with their own, making it clear that this is more than just a gig: this is an event, a demonstration, a show of solidarity. People have gone all-out on outfits for tonight, with a preponderance of black and pink on display.
MOBO-certified Londoner Crae Wolf is often described – even on her own website – as a hip-hop artist, although she’s equally likely to refer to what she does as ‘baddie metal’ or ‘baddie metal core’. Ultimately, what she does is difficult to define, let alone pigeonhole. And while the studio recordings are overtly (but not overly) produced, with the bass and the beats to the fore, live, with a backing of live guitar and drums, it’s what I can best describe as urban nu-metal.
Crae Wolf
It’s a hefty sound, and she brings big energy, bold attitude, and all the moves. To say the crowd who have packed the front out early gives back in enthusiasm would be an understatement: they’re up for it and then some, and this in turn fires the band up still further. ‘Mouth’ is a real standout in the set, a proper rager, and Crae Wolf gets some seriously hyped audience participation going. For a support act to whip things up to this level is rare, but she and her band hit the spot perfectly: they’re up for it, the crowd’s up for it, and bang! The night goes off from the first number.
There’s been much debate – particularly in the US – about whether artists, particularly musicians – should involve themselves in politics. It’s almost exclusively shitty men with shitty political views and shitty opinions in general who raise the subject and argue that they shouldn’t. Delilah Bon’s raison d’être is to say ‘fuck you’ to all of those shitty men (and we have to admit, there are many – way many, and yet virtually none who will ever own their shittiness), and to engage with politics and issues straight on through her songs.
Delilah Bon
Driven by a juddering, thunderous bass, Lauren Tate’s solo work as Delilah Bon is a clear departure from the grunge style of Hands Off Gretel: while it’s synths and beats that define the studio sound, live with a full band who play hard and amped to the max, it manifests as Nu metal rap with bling, and while feminist themes were always a feature of her lyrics, they’re now the primary focus. And with this sense of purpose, she seems both more at ease and more intense. Stepping away from the influence of Courtney Love has enabled her to find her own voice, and as Delilah Bon there’s a newfound level of authenticity here. And having taken control of the means of production – that is to say, self-releasing material online – she’s able to bang out new songs while they’re fresh and relevant.
Delilah Bon
She’s certainly earned herself a devoted fanbase: the front three rows (at least) know every word to the entire set. ‘Chop Dicks’ swaggers into a dense rap metal groove. The thing about DB’s songs is that they don’t so much contain choruses or hooks, but slam down slogans that hit hard, and as such, they pretty much designed for chanting along to – and given her aptitude for working a crowd, that’s exactly what happens: at one point, the whole band (bar the phenomenally top-knotted drummer) in crowd as Delilah leads a rousing cry of ‘I will not be treated like shit’; elsewhere, there are fists pumping to the rally of ‘dead men don’t rape’ – and this is powerful, angry stuff. After a second costume change, the set closes with the celebratory rush of feminist pro-pube anthem ‘Bush’.
The event promised ‘a night of feminine rage’, and it delivered in spadefuls. But what it also provided was an electrifying energy, and an all-pervading sense of unity, solidarity, and a celebration of diversity. We need more of this.
Aural Aggravation 