Christopher Nosnibor
Not so long ago, I could be selective about the gigs I attended, wading through guest list offers and free to pick – and would likely attend at least one a week in a reviewing capacity. But, my change in personal circumstances means that getting out tends to be based on a fairly short-notice scan of ‘what’s on’ and Facebook events, meaning I’m far more likely to take punts on something that will get me out when the opportunity presents itself. This does mean that while I’m less likely to witness live music overall, I’m certainly more likely to see bands I wouldn’t have considered previously, and this is a positive thing.
A Sunday night in the middle of February – what have you got to offer, eh? I’m naturally gutted that The Last Dinner Party sold out The Brudenell well ahead of time, and while I really do rate Rob Newman, I’m not sure I’m up for laughs, and besides, I’m feeling the need for bands, so take a punt on three metal acts for a fiver ten minutes’ walk from my house.
One thing about going to see bands with no expectations is that you’re unlikely to be disappointed, and tonight’s offering was very much undersold with the ticket price, because despite the place far from being rammed, despite the lighting being average, the sound and the quality of the performances was such that it was very, very easy to forget that we’re in a small venue with a stage a foot high showcasing bands no-one’s heard of. But this again returns us to the topic of grassroots venues. All three acts on tonight’s bill are of a quality that could see them playing much bigger venues, landing festival slots, and performing to thousands, rather than dozens. Maybe in a year or two they will be, but without venues like this to hit on their first tour, how is it ever going to happen?
Waiting for the first act, I might take pause to extoll the virtues of solo gig attendance. I do appreciate that this is a very personal thing – but isn’t the appreciation of music a very personal thing? It’s not just that we listen to and immerse ourselves jn music in an individual space, more often than not, but also, how we respond is personal, in the way songs touch us emotionally in ways that are completely unique and ultimately – and unashamedly – solipsistic. However much a band may capture the zeitgeist, the way you react to it, the way you feel it – comes from a unique inner space. Music creates a space for s to lose ourselves in a way that few other mediums do. And so to be here, alone, with a pint – and a decent one at that – in near-darkness, in anticipation of the first act, not having to expend energy or headspace on anyone else is, to my mind, pure bliss. This half-hour of tranquillity is of such value that the bands could be crap and it wouldn’t bother me – being here is enough in itself.
But the bands are far from crap.
Negatives forewarn us that their singer us out in the car park. Practically dying, by the way they tell it. But they soldier on, heroically. Sequenced synths bolster the monster instrumental opener, with slabs of guitar, churning bass, and some subtly-executed but nevertheless detailed technical work on the lead guitar. The burly bassist’s in-ear monitors fall out, repeatedly, until he eventually gets fed up of tripping over them and stuffs them in his pocket. Bassists do tend to be understated or exuberant, and he’s in the latter category, lumbering and flailing all over, wringing the grooves out like he’s working the booming noise with his bare hands. They’re a proper full-throttle metal juggernaut, and considering they’re accustomed to having a front man, are visually and verbally engaging.
Negatives
The last couple of songs are covers: for the first, a cover of Limp Bizkit’s ‘Break Stuff’ with the singer from Keep This Up, and a Slipknot cover with a couple of guts from In These Walls, collaborations which have evolved on this short tour, which they’ve clearly enjoyed and formed new bonds on. So many bands would have bailed under the circumstances, but with true Geordie grit, they blasted forward and did a killer job.
Keep This Up from Peterborough maintain the quality. Their thing is ferocious melodic post-hardcore, with two guitars, drums, and no bass. What? They don’t sound like they’re missing a bass, though. Anything they may be lacking instrumentally, they more than compensate with massive energy, and the singer pours every last ounce of what he’s got into every line, leaving him wilting and panting for air between songs. It’s hardly surprising: I’m knackered just watching him leap and lunge all over, and he’s probably done the equivalent of about 10K by the end of their half-hour set. Toward the end of the set, they drop a Nu-Metal lift of ‘Hollaback Girl’. Who knew we needed that, eh? But the biggest shock of the set was that the new guitarist is only playing his fourth gig, not only with the band, but ever. You’d never know: he brings a huge presence to the stage and some snarky, sarcastic bounce to the between-song banter. They feel like a really tight and cohesive unit, and don’t set a foot wrong through the entirety of a monster set.
Keep This Up
In These Walls spent almost as long setting up and then soundchecking their massive drum kit as they did playing their set. Despite their being from York, I was unaware of their existence, and establishing any biographical details about them hasn’t proven easy. They weren’t supposed to be headlining, but swapped after Negatives found themselves a man down, meaning they’ve also had to expand their set to fill the slow. And yet for all this, they prove to be worthy headliners, and worth the wait with the pre-set faffing. They bring an immense, brutal sound with five-string bass and ball-busting power chords… and melodic, prog-tinged choruses. Huh? There’s an epic, expansive quality to their music that certainly goes far beyond Nu-Metal, exploring the further reaches of post-metal with aplomb. There’s a lot of detail, but not so technical as to be wanking. They pack a lot of action into half an hour, with an engaging, immersive, and dynamic performance.
In These Walls
The takeaway here is that there wasn’t a weak band on the bill, and the vibe was simply joyful and enriching. All three bands absolutely played their knackers off. and were clearly having a ball just being out on tour and bringing their noise to people, who in turn, were loving every minute. And I will say it again: this is the heart-swelling joy of small gigs. All three bands proved to be every inch of the quality of bands you might see at 500+ capacity venues, even the O2 arenas for £20, the only difference being that they aren’t well-known. But they deserve to be. At an O2, you’ll be lucky to get within ten metres of the stage: here, you’re within ten metres of the stage even when you’re at the bar at the back: at the front you can see the whites of their eyes, see the sweat running, observe the fretwork. THIS is live music. And THIS is life.
Aural Aggravation 