Posts Tagged ‘goth’

Christopher Nosnibor

In terms of goth history, The Warehouse is pretty much ground zero. Synonymous in particular with The Sisters of Mercy in their early days, it was this milieu which also spawned The March Violets, making their return to the venue for the first time since 1983. I missed that one myself, having been seven at the time, but a fair few of the songs played that night are in tonight’s set list, too, and one suspects they probably sounded better this time around.

Early doors, there’s an almost 50/50 split of old goths and twenty-somethings, who really do seem to have embraced the original 80s dark punk look (as opposed to the ersatz emo stylings that passed as goth in the 90s). The Psychedelic Furs and Christian Death and Strawberry Switchblade are blasting over the PA as we wait for Vision Video, and I make myself comfortable with a pint of Weston’s Vintage at a reasonable £5.80 for a pint.

Vision Video have a long-established relationship with the Violets, with Tom Ashton having produced their first two albums. Stylistically, they’re at the rocky, post-punk end of the goth spectrum, who clearly take their cues more from ‘our’ brand of goth rather than the US ‘death rock’ scene (a mid-set cover of The Comsat Angels’ ‘You Move Me’ is illustrative).

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Vision Video

A three-piece with guitar, synths and live drums, the sequenced bass is really solid and sounds… real, with proper low-end frequencies delivered at appropriate volume that make your nostrils vibrate. They’re over here from Athens, Georgia, with a message: they’re anti-fascist, anti-war, anti-capitalist, anti-Trump and anti-dickhead. And as guitarist / vocalist Dusty Gannon is a veteran and ex-firefighter, this is a message that’s delivered with sincerity from a place of experience, and a message which informs the songwriting as much as a vintage record collection. He speaks at length in between songs: none of is it preachy, but it is passionate, and the crowd warms to them (and judging by the clamour front centre, a fair few had warmed to them and learned the words in advance).

The March Violets take the stage as The Sisters’ ‘Marian’ comes on, and it’s a swift fade as they’re straight in with ‘Long Pig’, with a barrage of squalling guitars and stuttering beats. It’s immediately apparent that they’ve still got it, and pleasingly, they haven’t faffed about with the arrangements of the old songs, right down to the hyperactive drum machine programming which defined their early sound. ‘Crow Baby’, dispatched near the top of the set is still wild and sounds like nothing else.

Reminding us that they didn’t release their first album proper until after their post-millennium return, they give us ‘Made Glorious’, from their epic 2014 debut, followed by ‘Hammer the Last Nail’, lead single from recently-released follow-up Crocodile Promises.

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The March Violets

Playing ‘Grooving in Green’ and then ‘Steam’ replicates the running order of their 1982 single, and the interplay between the different elements comes through clearly: first, there’s that unique Leeds sound, with a thick, chunky bass welded to a thunderous drum machine, juxtaposed with a guitar style that draws at least a certain degree of influence from Gang of Four – scratchy, trebly, choppy, with some unconventional use of harmonics – and then there are the songs themselves, which are the product of distinct personalities. Bassist Mat Thorpe, who joined for the new album provides the more shouty male vocal counterpoint to Rosie Garland’s clean, theatrical enunciations, and as such, the essence (no, they don’t play that) of the old classics is retained. Meanwhile, ‘Kraken Awakes’ and ‘Crocodile Teeth’, lifted from the new album from new album sits comfortably alongside the older material.

The sound seems to get louder and brighter (and probably purpler) about halfway through the set, and they take things up a notch, Rosie confessing that they’re having a blast up there – although, truth be told, it’s pretty obvious: she’s in fine voice, and busting moves all over, and Tom spends half the set with a massive smile on his face. They know they’re sounding good, and they know we’re loving it, too.

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The March Violets

Towards the end of the set, ‘Strangehead’ is particularly wild and wonderful. They encore with a blistering ‘Fodder’, and there is simply no way they could leave without giving us ‘Snake Dance’, which is one of the definitive anthems of goth – the Violets’ ‘Temple of Love’, if you will.

Tonight, we’ve seen a band on peak form, and proving that they’re a lot more than simply a heritage act, too. Long may they continue.

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21st May 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Ashley Reaks first came to the public’s attention under the guise of Joe Northern, fronting promising turn-of-the-millennium dark synthpop act Younger Younger 28s, a head-on collision between The Human League and Clock DVA, who released their sole LP, Soap in 1999. Since then, the Harrogate-based Reaks has expanded his field and is now as known for his disturbing collages as he is for his eclectic musical output, which spans dub, postpunk, and whatever other genre concepts come his way. Reak’s creative diversity, while very much an artistic strength, has likely been an obstacle to his achieving more commercial success, because the sad fact is that polyartists who venture into the domains of oddness are extremely difficult to market, because, well, how to you pigeonhole or genre categorise someone who works not only in a host of media, but does stuff which is, at times, quite disturbing and impossible to place in a given bracket? Of course, another likely, and more obvious, obstacle to commercial success is that the fact that a lot of his work is what a lot of people would likely consider plain fucking weird.

But even before Younger Younger 28s, Reaks – whose appreciation of The Sisters of Mercy and the like is widely-stated on his social media – was dabbling with the gothier aspects of post-punk, and would continue to do so for some time. His decision to release Ancient Ruins may only be for the sake of posterity, as a document, but here it is, and it’s not bad either.

Because this is Ashley Reaks, it’s not a set of songs which adhere to straight-up genre conformity, as is immediately apparent from the first track, ‘A God in the Devil’s World’, which has a certain swagger and a swing to it, the female vocals not only providing a counterpoint to the growling baritone Reaks adopts, but also a pop shimmer that’s still more Human League than The March Violets.

‘No Man’s Land’ offers picked guitar and jittery synths melded to an insistent drum machine, and comes on with the trappings of mid-80s rock, and a bit Prefab Sprout. ‘Disconnected’, however, plunges into darker territories, an echo-heavy bass-driven blast of angst that’s more the sound of the underground circa 1983. And it’s good, but then you realise how anachronistic it is for the time it was recorded.

Between 1997 and 2002, Britpop died a slow and painful death and Nu-Metal exploded. The post-punk revival was still some time off, and simply no-one was making, or listening to, anything that evoked the spirit of The Batcave. But then, they weren’t really digging 80s synth pop, other than the original stuff in a kitsch or nostalgic way, and the much-touted 80s revival hadn’t really gained any traction. To top it, in keeping with Reeks’ other output, thew songs on here are littered with lyrical observations and kitchen sink vignettes, pithy pairings, and couplets which are wilfully wordy and awkward.

‘Christiane’ is a campy goth pop effort that’s wistful and theatrical, with hints of late 80s Damned woven into its fabric, while ‘I Always Wanted to be You’ brings some indie jangle and… brass. Then again, there’s the chugging industrial blast of ‘Swimming Against the Tide’ which sounds a bit like Therapy? circa Nurse but with an overtly ‘baggy’ beat and a Prodigy-influenced midsection. Oh yes, it’s all going on here.

If nothing else, Ancient Ruins provides some insight into the evolution of Reaks’ compositions, from oddball pop to off-the-wall melting-pot madness, with loads of ska brass and a whole lot more besides. The dubby closer ‘Ghost Town In My Heart (Version 2)’ is particularly illuminating.  If only all history lessons were this interesting.

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Negative Gain Productions – 6th June 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Just as the birds of prey from which they take their name are creatures of the night, so this Irish act – essentially one guy – who draw inspiration from the darker realms of postpunk, goth, and synth-based music are very much dwellers of the dark hours, as debut album Death Games attests, with titles such as ‘Perfect Nightmare’, ‘Tombs’, and ‘Send Me to My Grave’. The album’s themes are timeless and classic, offering ‘a haunting exploration of love, mortality, and the fragile nature of existence,’ while casting nods to touchstones such as Lebanon Hanover, Boy Harsher, and Black Marble.

Lead single ‘Give Me Your Stare’ opens the album in style with a disco beat and throbbing bass giving this bleak, echo-soaked song a dancefloor-friendly groove. The vocals are backed off but ring clear through a haze of reverb, offering a hint of The Cure’s Seventeen Seconds in terms of production values.

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The compositions on Death Games are pretty direct: there’s not a lot of detail or layers, and it’s the electronic beats and pulsating basslines which not only define the sound but drive the songs. The sonorous synths which twist and grind over the top of these predominantly serve to create atmosphere more than melody, although haunting, repetitive motifs are commonplace, and the vocals, too, being low in the mix and with a fairly processed feel, are more a part of the overall sound than the focal point.

‘Skin on Skin’ brings a wibbly, ghosty synth that sounds a bit like a theremin quivering over a minimalist backing of primitive drum machine and bass synth, and the likelihood is that they’re going for early Depeche Mode, but the end result is more like a gothed-up Sleaford Mods, although, by the same token, it’s not a million miles away from She Wants Revenge around the time of their electro-poppy debut, and that’s perhaps a kinder and more reasonable comparison. ‘Fevr 2’ brings an increased sense of urgency with skittering bleeps skating around the reverberating drums: it has both an 80s movie soundtrack vibe and a vintage goth disco feel, and despite its hectic percussion and busy bass, ‘Tombs’ conjures a haunting, requiem-like atmosphere.

The ‘death’ thematic may not always be literal, and as much concerned with the death of love and the ends of relationships, but the duality the theme offers serves OWLS well. There’s no denying that it’s both a stereotype and a cliché that an obsession with death is such a goth thing, and OWLS fulfil these unashamedly – but then, why should there be shame? Why is it only goth and some strains of metal which embrace life’s sole inevitability, and explore mortality and the finite nature of existence? Even now, after millennia, we aren’t only afraid of death, but, particularly in Western cultures, we’re afraid to think or talk about it. People passing in their eighties and nineties still elicits a response that it’s a tragedy or that they should have had more time, and I’ve seen it said of people departing in their sixties or even seventies that it’s ‘no age’. We seem to have a huge blind spot, a blanketing case of denial when it comes to death, as if it shouldn’t happen, that it’s an injustice, and that no-one deserves it. But nothing is forever, be it love or life, and while loss – any loss – is painful, it comes attached to inevitability, being a matter of when, not if.

The stark and sombre ‘Send Me to My Grave’ commences a trilogy of dark, downbeat, funereal songs, which grow progressively darker, more subdued, the vocals more swallowed by evermore cavernous reverb. Even when the beats kick in and the bass booms, things warp, degenerate, and seem to palpably decay and degrade. There’s a weight to it, a claustrophobic heaviness, and the kick drum thwocks away murkily as if muffled by earth and six feet under sods. ‘This Must be the End’ is brittle, delicate, the calm that comes with the acceptance of… of what? What comes after the end? It feels like the song, and the album, leave this question hanging with an ellipsis, a suspense mark. It seems fitting, since we simply don’t know. But it does very much leave the door ajar for OWLS’ follow up, and that is something to look forward to.

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Christopher Nosnibor

Yes, they’re still going. Despite not having released any new material since 1993, they’ve continued to tour frequently over the last thirty years, and have during that time showcased about two albums’ worth of new songs. And while performances of said new songs are all over YouTube, it’s no substitute for a live performance witnessed in person, which goes some way to explain why this, the first of two nights at the Roundhouse, is sold out. Another key reason of course is that people love this band with a rare devotion. I am here as one of those people, rather than in a press capability.

The support act, Oversize, deliver 90s-style alt-rock with grunge and shoegaze elements. I’d have probably dug them if it was 1992-3. Or perhaps not: there’s too much “How are you doing?” and “Let’s see those heads banging” calls between songs, in addition to the obligatory merch plugs. The longhaired bassist stomps about and flings his hair around, while the lead guitarist, who’s waring a Type O Negative T-shirt, does melodic backing vocals and also some metalcore screamy bits which don’t really gel within the overall sound. Still, they were well-received and did the job of warming the crowd up.

The Sisters’ set list on the current tour may not be radically different from those of the last couple of years, and as we will come to learn to no surprise whatsoever, identical to every night on this tour, but it’s certainly quite a different crowd they’ve drawn compared to the last few times I’ve seen them (either side of the pandemic, the last time being in this same venue in September 2021 on their three-night run belatedly marking their fortieth anniversary, and before that in Leeds in 2020). Dare I say it… younger. There are a lot of makeup goths out tonight, people born after the turn of the millennium dressing in the 2025 reimagining of 1985. Or something. No doubt many of the older fans – the ones who were there in 1985 who like to moan endlessly about how The Sisters have been shit since Wayne Hussey left will say that they missed out and are only seeing a karaoke tribute or similar now, but that they’re all here more than validates the case that The Sisters are still a going concern, and that there are plenty of more recent concerts who are keen to hear the unreleased material live alongside back-catalogue hits and classics. It’s certainly a livelier crowd than I’ve witnessed in these later years (although the less said about the tall woman dressed like a member of Bananarama who was swinging about and busting moves in the second row near me the better – I’ll simply leave it that there’s lively and there’s being an attention-seeking dickhead).

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‘Alice’ is dispatched early on in a set which largely ignores their pre-Floodland releases, with ‘Marian’ being the sole representation of First and Last and Always (in contrast, there’s a lot of Vision Thing). It’s almost as if Andrew is stubbornly ignoring the forty year anniversary of the band’s debut album to wind up the ‘golden age’ complainers, and you wouldn’t put it past him.

The band – and that extends to Chris Catalyst, former guitarist and now nurse to the Doktor – look to be enjoying themselves. Eldritch’s vocals sound rather more warmed up and he relaxes into the show more with the arrival of ‘Summer’, and the newer songs – in particular ‘I Will Call You’, ‘Here’ and ‘On the Beach’ – sound particularly strong. Yes, his voice is still a scratchy, crackling croak for the most part, but he’s much more audible and there some of the deeper notes come through. Eldritch seems to revel particularly keenly in giving it some on ‘More’: ‘I don’t know why you gotta be so undemanding’ he growls, before snarling a full-throated ‘I what MORE!’ and the bombastic backing vocals power in. Credit to Chris and Kai for their contributions on that score and the pair do work well together, bringing movement and energy to the stage, the former with classic rock poses, the latter twirling and pirouetting about with abandon, and Kai’s switching between electric, acoustic, and twelve-string guitars adds texture to the sound.

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On the subject of the sound, for many years, Sisters gigs have been on the quiet side, with the drums reduced to a clattering in the background rather than the relentless boom that was always integral to the band’s signature sound. Tonight, the volume and mix are both substantially stronger, with a denser sound overall, even the sequenced bass sounding more powerful and resonant. And this, this is what we came for: because when The Sisters are good, they’re GOOD.

Eldritch remains on stage after the band depart at the end of ‘Temple of Love’, performed in the 1992 style, with Kai doing the Ofra Haza parts. They do a decent job, too, although I find myself on the fence with it, not least of all because I wasn’t rabid about the later version in the first place. But, as with the more backing-track-based version of ‘This Corrosion’, a lot of people in my vicinity seemed to be absolutely over the moon to be hearing the hits in a recognisable form, and it’s quite possible that this is what the newer fans want to hear over, say, ‘Heartland’ or deep cuts from The Reptile House EP. You can’t please all of the people all of the time, but tonight, the Sisters seem to be pleasing enough of the crowd as well as themselves.

“I take requests,” he jokes, before muttering the punchline and leaving the stage.

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On returning, Ben takes up a bass guitar (something rarely seen onstage at a Sisters gig since the 90s, particularly since ‘Romeo Down’ was dropped from the set) and leads a hefty version of ‘Neverland’. It seems the song suits Eldritch’s current vocal range, and Andrew’s vocals sound the best yet, and remain strong for both ‘Lucretia’ and ‘This Corrosion’ which cap off a solid set. Overhearing exchanges on the way out, there seemed to be an overall positive consensus, and with this, I would have to concur.

Negative Gain Productions – 16th May 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

‘Give Me Your Stare’ is the first taste of the forthcoming album, Death Games from Irish darkwave artist OWLS.

It’s pitched as ‘a seduction: a desperate call for the gaze of someone whose love comes with a quiet promise of devastation… a dance floor confession in the fog of emotional collapse…. With echoes of goth romanticism and a subtle menace beneath its polish.’

Seduction and desperation strike me as sitting at odds with one another: desperation has a scent, a look in the eye that’s less ‘come to bed’ and more ‘flee the situation’ – and yet with ‘Give Me Your Stare’ it makes some kind of sense.

These contradictions are elementary, harking back through time and now well-worn cliché to the tropes forged by Elizabethan sonneteers. I’m reminded of Sir Thomas Wyatt’s ‘I Find No Peace’, which contains the lines, ‘I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice’, and ‘I desire to perish, and yet I ask health / I love another, and thus I hate myself,’ concluding ‘And my delight is causer of this strife.’

And in essence, ‘Give Me Your Stare’ succeeds as a contemporary articulation of that inner turmoil, all delivered with a steely control that’s either clenched-tight keeping things together, or sociopathic.

With the vocals down in the mix, and delivered with an easy soulfulness, it’s the bass and beats which dominate, and the groove is simultaneously smooth and hard-edged, thanks to the combination of soft synth layers and a crisp kick drum that packs some punch. And for all of the glass-like production, there’s emotion there, and, what’s more, it’s all packed into a neat dark pop package that clocks in at a perfect three minutes and thirty.

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Sister 9 Recordings – 9th May 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

Since showcasing single cut ‘Discretion’ last month, I’ve been totally gripped by this new EP by Italian post-punk electro duo Kill Your Boyfriend.

There’s something about the consistent use of one-word titles that adds punch. The complete catalogue of Foetus albums is a strong case in point: Hole, Nail, Gash Blow… Four letters, forming a single syllable, prove to be powerfully evocative, even when there is no context – or perhaps more so because there is no context.

The titles of the six songs on here are rather less abstract, more descriptive, but still strong and evocative in isolation: ‘Ego’, ‘Obsession’, ‘Apathy’… words with emotional connotations, words which plug straight into the beating heart of the human condition. And, just as ‘Discretion’ threatened, Disco Kills is a full-on sonic kicking that registers blows from every direction.

It’s all about that throbbing, hard-hitting rhythm section, and once again, I feel compelled to sing in praise of the drum machine. Much-maligned and still contentious when used in a ‘rock’ context, the relentless thud and crash of programmed percussion can be so compelling – hypnotic, yes, but also in the way it registers in a purely physical way, the toppy snare explosion sending shockwaves through the nervous system while setting eardrums quivering. From Suicide to Uniform via Metal Urbain, The Sisters of Mercy and Big Black, there’s a rich lineage of bands for whom a drum machine used well – and at an appropriate level in the mix – absolutely defines the sound. It doesn’t work for a lot of rock acts because they’re more about having a certain flexibility, but for absolutely smashing the senses with precision timekeeping, drum machines really come into their own, especially when solid, four-square basslines which follow the beats with equal precision are involved.

And so it is that for all the mesh of treble and distortion, Kill Your Boyfriend structure these songs around a punishing rhythm section. No fancy fills or extravagant bass runs – just hammering, solid grooves, which underscore all the rest. I say ‘all the rest’ as if it’s somehow lesser. It isn’t, not by a long shot. ‘Obsession’ would be dancefloor-friendly – to the point you could imagine people turning and clapping in time with the crispy snap of the vintage Akai snare sound, were it not for its dark, distorted vocal. ‘Apathy’ a bubbling dance banger that’s twisted by some dissonant chord changes and an echo-soaked shouty vocal, the end result sounding like The Prodigy remixing Alien Sex Fiend. Apathetic it is not: a Hi-NRG banger with a dark, serrated edge, it is.

They do trancey / shoegaze / synthwavey lightness on ‘Illusion’, which offers an unexpected – and unexpectedly welcome – pause for breath. But although it pulls back on the breakneck pace and abrasion of the tracks which both precede and succeed it, ‘Illusion’ is still dense, richly textured, and overtly beat-driven, with a thick, churning bass lurking beneath. It just doesn’t drive as hard or as aggressively, with an altogether gentler vocal delivery, and it builds tension with twisty guitars with strong echoes of the sound of 1984. Yes, it’s a bit gothy, and it sits well, and all of this means that the thick, buzzy, echoey electrogoth stomp of ‘Discretion’ hits even harder after the lull, highlighting just what an absolute beast it is. And make no mistake: it’s a pumping, pulverising dark disco monster. It’s brashy, it’s trashy, not so much a car crash as a flaming, petrol-tank-exploding pileup with Sheep on Drugs, Selfish Cunt, KMFDM, and Sigue Sigue Sputnik. It’s an instant adrenaline spike, a rush of pure exhilaration.

‘Youth’ begins darkly but offer something more buoyant as a bookend to the EP, like an electro Sex Pistols, it echoes and bounced its way in a rush to the end. It does feel like a rather flimsy add-on, but works in terms of bringing things down again to wrap it up.

Disco Kills is solid and fierce from beginning to end – and while it’s predominantly electronic in its instrumentation, it’s also very much rock, and it’s pure punk all the way.

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Christopher Nosnibor

Is it acceptable to wear the band’s T-shirt to their show? It’s a frequent topic of debate amongst my gig-going friends. As a rule, we tend to agree it’s not cool, although we all have our notable exceptions, and I got mine. But IST IST fans would largely disagree, it would seem – unless this is their exception band.

Usually, with the front bar right next to the auditorium, people sit at the tables supping until the bands start, sometimes until the headliners take to the stage. Not tonight. A large cluster of middle-agers in IST IST T-shirts are queueing and actually blocking access to the bar room half an hour before doors.  There’s a guy with an immense beard wearing a sleeveless black denim jacket with Sisters of Mercy and Fields of the Nephilim patches paired with red tartan trees and he’s standing in the queue too. The queue is practically out of the front door by 7:25, but the bar remains almost empty. These people are keen.

The support is an Ian McCulloch wannabe in a knee-length coat doing sub-mid-80s Psychedelic Furs lifts with a goth tinge. The drum machine is nicely up in the mix and the sound is great, even if the songs are only middling at best, and wince at worst. and it’s mostly backing track. But the Jarvis Cocker moves are overdone, suddenly throwing shapes in the most uncool fashion, sometimes going for a power pose or something a shade more aggressive and all the more incongruous, and the shades are off and back on and off and I again and the cringe only increases as the set progresses. It’s one of the longest half hours of music, and probably the most painful since the band supporting A Flock of Seagulls at The Brudenell a few years ago. It’s a rare talent to be this technically competent and so fucking embarrassingly awful at the same time.

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Oliver Marson

Having clocked a vintage Sisters T in the gents and emerging to find the front of the stage absolutely rammed, I was reminded just how hardcore – not to mention fucking stubborn – older gig-goers can be. It’s no wonder I learned spot-bagging and elbows when I started going to shows as a teen in the early 90s. And, as then, I’m probably a sound 10-15 years younger than the majority of these buggers. Those clustered in the front row in groups are discussing the set lists placed on the stage. Smoke drifts as Interpol’s ‘Roland’ blasts from the PA.

It’s not hard to comprehend why this band enjoys such devotion from this demographic: they present all of the quintessential post-punk elements, delivered with precision and panache. It is, it must be said, post-punk as viewed through the prism of the 21st Century revival. And there are many who are here for that, too, with plenty of under 30s grooving away behind the first five rows of old sods.

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There has been no shortage of bands doing precisely this since around 2004, but Superlative drumming elevates their Editors /Interpol / White Lies – etc. – sound. The vocals are a flat, monotone and slightly twangy baritone with all the reverb, which take me a while to place, but they land somewhere between I Like Trains and She Wants Revenge. Credit to the sound guy, too, who’s working hard with the reverb and echo, especially on new song ‘Echo’, which has ‘instant classic’ written all over it and goes down a storm. They’re tight as and the sound is outstanding, with some super-solid bass at the pulsating heart of it all – and unlike Oliver Marson, leather jacketed bassist Andy Keating keeps his shades on – although I can’t help but wonder if they’re prescription and he’s doing a Wayne Hussey.

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One of the tracks later in the set – my notes are sketchy as I was a bit engrossed – is pure She Wants Revenge, and it would be easy to shrug that IST IST offer nothing new, and it would be a valid criticism – but the counterpoint to that would be the consistency of the material and sheer quality of the performance, where some nice 12-string action adds some all-essential texture, and there are abundant I Like Trains-style post-rock crescendos along the way – and shshsh, don’t tell the younger fans, but it’s all as goth AF.

Performing at Warehouse on Tuesday 1st July 2025, the boundary-shredding Yorkshire post/punks continue their epic live comeback with this unmissable gig on home turf.

Following a rapturous reception to what were their first live shows in nearly a decade in 2023, plus high praise for their new studio output including 2024 album Crocodile Promises, which received a double thumbs-up from us at Aural Aggravation, and a reappraisal of their classic works in a series of reissues on the Jungle Records label; the cult band are clearly revelling in their recent revival.

Comprising founding members Rosie Garland (performer, poet and author) and Tom Ashton (Guitarist, producer and studio owner), plus Mat Thorpe on bass, the band are intending the shows to be a celebration of The March Violets’ legacy, while also honouring the irreplaceable contribution of friend and founding member Simon Denbigh.
Speaking about their recent reunion shows, The March Violets explain:

“Since the March Violets tour in 2015 we’ve been shocked at how many musical friends have passed over and out. And after Simon Denbigh’s life-changing stroke, it’s no surprise we all thought that was it for the Violets. When, in 2021, Jungle Records released Big Soul Kiss (The BBC Sessions double album) for Record Store Day 2021 it sold out its entire pressing in 24 hours. We were amazed at the response, absolutely amazed. We faced a choice – to fade away quietly or go out with a celebration.

We feel for Simon, and honour his massive artistic contribution & intense vision as one of The March Violets founding members. He’s irreplaceable, so we’re not going to try. We believe the legacy of The March Violets deserves a far better conclusion than sinking into silence, and now is the right time to do it.”

With their first incarnation described by Sounds magazine as “slinky, savage yet warmly delicate [with a] thirst for mystery, magic and brutal darkness”, The March Violets were a post/punk band cut from a different cloth. Founded in Leeds in 1981, from there the band would initiate an impressive career that would see them navigating all corners of the alternative scene and accrue a longstanding cult following. With their debut EP Religious As Hell released by Andrew Eldritch (frontman of fellow Leeds scene band The Sisters of Mercy), TMV would tally a total of seven successful Indie Chart singles including “Grooving in Green”, “Snake Dance”, “Deep”, and “Walk Into The Sun”, plus their ‘Radiant Boys’ EP, at the height of their powers. With an impeccable John Peel Session also under their belts, the band released two compilation albums Natural History (which peaked at No.3 in the Indie Charts) and Electric Shades in the US, before signing a major deal in 1985 with London Records. Releasing the poppier charms of the hit single “Turn to the Sky”, the track would notably feature in the John Hughes movie Some Kind of Wonderful in 1987, before the band eventually split later that year.

Reforming for a one-off hometown gig two decades later, their 2007 reunion would lead to a flurry of activity in the 21st Century including festival headline slots across Europe & the USA, the brand new studio albums Made Glorious (2013) and Mortality (2015), plus a storming Record Store Day release in 2021’s sell-out double album: Big Soul Kiss.

In 2023, The March Violets confirmed the release of their full back catalogue via Jungle Records for the first time, while releasing two new compilations Play Loud Play Purple and The Palace of Infinite Darkness in the run up. Taking their creative spurt into the studio, the band have also been working on new material and released a new record Crocodile Promises in 2024, via the Metropolis Records imprint.

Most recently, the TMV have been taking their gothic majesties stateside and have completed a triumphant tour of the USA, while also impressing UK audiences last summer with major festival appearances at the likes of Rebellion Festival and Bearded Theory.

Returning to the fore in 2025, The March Violets will be back with a vengeance for what promises to be a very special hometown show strewn with classics and new cuts, surprises and so much more.

On the night, the band will also be supported by one post/punk’s brightest new hopes – Vision Video. Following the release of their new album ‘Haunted Hours’, VV will be making the trip from Athens, GA, for a set of their refreshingly honest and dark gothic pop. Following on from their 2021 debut ‘Inked in Red’ (which told the story of lead singer Dusty Gannon (aka TikTok’s “Goth Dad”) and the darkness he saw as a soldier in Afghanistan), their recent work ‘Haunted Hours’ explores Dusty’s experience as a firefighter and paramedic working on the frontlines of the pandemic that followed his return. Vision Video will soon record their next LP Modern Horror at Maze Studios in Atlanta headed by Grammy award winning producer Ben Allen.

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TICKETS / DETAILS

Tickets On General Sale Wednesday 16 April

Doors 7.30pm / Curfew 11.00pm

Age Restriction – All ages, under 14 to accompanied by an adult over the age of 18

Available here:
https://pinkdot.seetickets.com/event/the-march-violets/the-warehouse/3385250

ASTARI NITE has just announced the release of their new single, ‘Miss Rain On My Parade’ courtesy of Negative Gain Productions. The highly-anticipated single follows the recently successful, ‘Unisex Games’.

Vocalist Mychael states: “Validation is not love, and some people are confused by the two. It’s unfortunate how many live their lives, yearning for that certain approval by others. This world can be very dishonest if you allow it to be and the longer you continue to dive into someone else’s sea of lies, you’ll always be alone, with your telephone, and all four walls of the room.”

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ASTARI NITE is an alternative rock band that has made a significant mark in the dark wave music scene. Originating from Miami, Fl, their music blends elements of alternative, post-punk and new wave, resulting in a distinctive dark glam sound.

ASTARI NITE’s style is reminiscent of classic alternative bands like Clan of Xymox and Placebo, yet their modern production and unique lyrical content give them a contemporary edge. ASTARI NITE have supported notable acts such as Peter Murphy, The Damned, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Cold Cave, Peter Hook and The Light, Psychedelic Furs, Modern English, Midge Ure (UltraVox) as well as newer acts on the scene: Actors, Twin Tribes, Then Comes Silence, Rosegarden Funeral Party and Bestial Mouths.

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Metropolis Records – 11th April 2025

Christopher Nosnibor

For some of us, at least, 1999 feels pretty recent still, but the depressing fact of the matter is that the 90s are as far behind us now as the 60s were in the 90s. And I write as someone who, growing up in the 80s, would watch things like The Golden Oldies Picture Show with my parents on an evening. The premise of this particular show was to play 60s hits with naff reimagined contemporary promo videos, many of which were absolutely heinous – a cartoon of a ball bouncing around as an accompaniment to Bobby Vee’s 1960 hit ‘Rubber Ball’ stands out as a particularly excruciating example. Things have – thankfully, when it comes to this – progressed, but the point here is that it’s been twenty-six years since The Birthday Massacre came into the world. At that time, it felt like the interesting in goth was diminishing and both cybergoth and technoindustrial had kinda had their day, too. But as is often the case, and to paraphrase Throbbing Gristle, I think it may have been, if you stick around long enough you’ll come into favour. No doubt someone will correct me on this, and that’s fine: the point remains valid.

That The Birthday Massacre have sustained a career for more than a quarter of a century is impressive, and testament to both their perseverance and their capacity to connect with a niche audience. It’s often the way that a cult act which never really achieves commercial success or comes into fashion will retain the kind of hardcore fanbase trendy acts will only ever be able to dream of, and while there’s much scoffing about so-called ‘one-hit-wonders’, many no-hit acts enjoy far more consistent careers.

And consistency is the word here: The Birthday Massacre have become dependable for the consistency of their output. And if Pathways sounds like a quintessential cut from The Birthday Massacre, well that sounds good to me, and likely will to fans, too. It packs a hard edge, but balances it with some magical melodies. It has poppy, commercial tendencies, but then, the same is true of 2022’s Fascination.

The album careens in on a bluster of feedback before hefty industrial guitar grinds in hard on ‘Sleep Tonight’, a track that bangs with such energy that it guarantees you most certainly won’t sleep tonight or even maybe for a week. It’s a magnificent blend of hypnotic, ethereal electropop and grating industrial metal. KMFDM and PIG immediately spring to mind, particularly in the execution of the hefty, chugging riffs and expansive, discordant mid-sections, but equally, Pathways presents glorious gothic grandeur and, by way of a more commercial reference, the emotive arena rock of Evanescence.

The title track is a contemporary goth-rock stomper, anthemic, with crystalline lead guitar meshing atop a driving bass and pumping percussion. It’s accessible and tuneful, and casting aside genre distinctions for a moment, a cracking rock / pop song delivered with some power, and with ‘Whisper’ they pack another anthem and once again demonstrate their consistency.

‘Wish’ may be a shade lighter, a bit more 80s radio rock / pop, but it’s delivered deftly, and the final song, ‘Cruel Love’, which stretches out for almost five and a half minutes is suitably anthemic, in the most 80s pop way. It’s quite a shift from the opener, but there’s a trajectory which is traceable through Pathways, as The Birthday Massacre lead the listener toward the light – and it works nicely.

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