Posts Tagged ‘York’

Suspicious Liquid / Velleity / Echoviolet – The Fulford Arms, York, 24th April 2025

Posted: 25 April 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

And this is why it’s always worth turning out in time to see the support acts… Just last month, I was in this very same venue to see Feather Trade, a band who pretty much guarantee a quality show. There were three other acts on the bill, all of whom were well worth seeing, but the pick of the crop by some margin were Suspicious Liquid, who, it transpires, won the York Battle of the Bands last year. It wasn’t hard to see why. But has I stood outside chatting, or just rocked up for the headline act I knew, I’d never have seen them. And having seen them play as a support was what compelled me to come and see them headline tonight. And once again, the support acts proved to be good value – especially when you do the sums of three bands for seven quid.

As they took to the stage, I had some initial doubts about Echoviolet: image-wise they look a bit 90s indie, especially the singer / guitarist who’s sporting a bad indie haircut, and they sounded like a band who are still working things out. Sometimes the bass and guitar lines don’t really gel, with one running ascending chords and the other descending and not necessarily in perfect time either, but then suddenly from nowhere they’d land a cracking chorus. The vocals, too, aren’t quite there yet: they sound somewhat tentative, undersung, as if rehearsing quietly in a bedroom rather than going all-out. But, as a power trio, they’re unusual in that the guitar parts favour spindly picking rather than fully-struck chords. It’s certainly distinctive, and they’ve definitely got things going for them.

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Echoviolet

Broadly speaking, their sound could be reasonably described as alterative rock with a 90s flavour and some heavy moments that would have really hammered hard at higher volume. There are hints of Bleach era Nirvana, and a few dashes of dark psych, and at times they call to mind The Horrors.

The punky ‘Micromaniac’ is driven by some foot to the floor bass but dominated by an unexpected drum break near the end. Drummer definitely overplays, but he brings a vibrance, an energy to the stage, and while they’re a bit rough in places, there is clear potential here. Would see again.

Velleity are straight in with a groove, they’re as tight as fuck and the layers of synth add polish. Sure, they’re a bit muso, a bit groggy, there’s a bit too much sexface guitar wankery, but they radiate confidence and it’s forgivable because – and it’s a rare thing – they actually are as good as they think they are, and you could easily envision them going down a storm at festivals, bringing in a range of elements from Pink Floyd to Led Zepp and… Muse.

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Velleity

It’s certainly a remarkable debut even from seasoned musicians, and the quality of the performance and musicianship is impossible to deny. Mid-set they drop a tune that could easily be a Smashing Pumpkins outtake, before going Alice in Chains for the last song. They grew on me as the set progressed, and the bass tone was supreme. During last song, singer popped to the bar and returned with shots which he fed the band before a particularly indulgent instrumental break. I guess you could call that showmanship…

Suspicious Liquid are the reason most of us are here, and while it’s only a third full, it’s not bad for a Thursday night when students are still drifting back after Easter. And they give the show 100% from start to end. It takes some guts to open with a slow, sprawling epic… which is just what they do. Showcasing new material – a lot of new material, for that matter – and some seriously meaty hard rock riffs, they are on fire. The small audience pack forward and close to the stage, things look busy. It must be gratifying for a band to see faces up close instead of playing to a void with lights in their faces. All the elements come together perfectly, with no weak parts. Sound and performance, everything is just superb, and they play with intense focus. They boast powerful vocals with incredible range, especially at the upper end, and collectively they seem so comfortable on stage, too. Yes, this is how it’s done.

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They chuck in a King Gizzard cover mid-set, followed by more new material and some colossal riffery, debuting one nine-minute behemoth near the end of the set. Every second of the set is pure quality, and on the strength of the new songs, you get the sense that the best is yet to come.

Dead Space Chamber Music / The Silver Reserve / Hanging Freud / Futures We Lost – The Cemetery Chapel, York, 19 April 2025

Posted: 20 April 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

As a venue for a live music event, The Cemetery Chapel in York is an inspired one. It’s not only a remarkable building and a perfect space for music – its high ceiling and being a perfect rectangle mean the acoustics are superb – but it is a functioning chapel in the middle of a massive graveyard. Again hosted by The Velvet Sheep, it’s a very different affair from the ‘Gothic Moth’ event held in this same space last September, but still feels entirely fitting to be here.

I arrive a few minutes before doors, and spend the time indulging in one of my favourite graveyard games, of ‘find the oldest headstone’ but soon find myself distracted by the ages of many of those who died in the mid-1800s: there were many children, some only months old, and many adults between the age of thirty-five and fifty, which made the ones who made it into their eighties and nineties something of a surprise. And this would not be the only surprise of the night after purchasing a glass of Shiraz and finding a seat close to the front.

Futures We Lost presented a pleasant surprise by way of a start to the evening. The solo project of Doug Gordon, the set offers up expansive, haunting synths, occasionally brooding and dark, propelled by reverby, hypnotic programmed drums. For large passages, it’s beat-free, and dense, sonorous drones, distorted, ominous samples, discordant chimes, and occasional blasts of abrasive noise echo around the high-ceilinged chapel. Cracking hums and fizzing static swell into thick layers which hang like mist in the candlelit space.

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Futures We Lost

Following immediately, Hanging Freud – a band I’ve raved about in the recorded format for quite some time now – bring the temperature down a few degrees: icy synths, thick with gearing textures grind against dolorous drums. Paula sings with her eyes cast upwards to the ceiling, or the heavens, her vocal between Siouxsie and an almost choral croon, rich and often reminiscent of Zola Jesus. Musically, they offer strong hints of Movement era New Order. The songs are concise and compelling and pack in a palpable density of atmosphere into their brief spaces. It’s growing dark outside now, and against the candlelight the duo are barely visible apart from Paula’s platinum hair and pale forearms, but the mood is even darker inside as the songs bring an ever-increasing emotional weight. The songs are all driven by bold beats, with crisp and heavy snares cutting through the thick swathes of synth. They don’t talk, they just play, never breaking the wall or the spell, ending with a simple ‘Thank you’ before slipping away and cueing the arrival of the interlude.

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Hanging Freud

Raising the curtain on Act II, The Silver Reserve – another solo project – bring a significant stylistic shift with a set of introspective post-rock / slowcore, with soft-focus solo acoustic guitar and vocals with additional loops and lots of reverb. A couple of the songs felt a bit disjointed, and sat at odds with the gentle flow of the emotive, reflective ballads, which draw heavily and with sincerity and honesty, on personal experience. The perhaps less-than-obvious comparison which came to mind as I was listening was later Her Name is Calla, although their work was in turn drawing on Radiohead. In between the tuning and returning and chat, the songs are pleasant, but the set as a whole, though well-received, wasn’t entirely gripping, and while contrast is key to keeping an evening moving, this set seemed to stall the flow a little.

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The Silver Reserve

Dead Space Chamber Music are something else altogether, and you would never know by sound alone that there are only three of them. The set begins by stealth, a sparse introduction with percussion like soft waves on sand, folk vocals seem to emanate from the back of the room before ringing glasses create a haunting wail. Then things begin to get really interesting, and their innovative approach to the creation of sound is something to behold. Drummer Ekaterina Samarkina is particularly impressive in her work and provides a real sonic focal point, first applying a bow to the edges of the cymbals, while singer Ellen Southern occupies herself for large parts by creating remarkable sounds in unconventional ways: the rustle of a foil sheet being unfolded slowly is just a start, and abstraction gives way to thunderous drums and slow, deliberate guitar. This is dramatic, and this is exciting, unexpectedly so. They incorporate a wide array of instruments, from bells and whistles to horse’s skull – although in truth there are no whistles, but pretty much anything else you could name is in the mix their sound and performance is bold and theatrical.

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Dead Space Chamber Music

I tend to wear earplugs when in the presence of live music, but didn’t for this: it wasn’t loud, until it was: from seemingly out of nowhere, the volume had crept up to a pulverising roar, evolving towards a Swans-like climax consisting of a brutal percussive barrage and squalling guitar and vocal ululations. The blistering wall of sound attained the force of a tsunami for a sustained crescendo, during which time stood still, and while some members of the audience swayed and nodded in their seats, I found myself practically paralysed by the sheer sonic intensity. The focus of the three musicians was absolute, and while Southern went through a number of changes to her visual presentation, Samarkina and guitarist Tom Bush, who really cut loose with some monumentally treble-heavy distortion during the second half of the set, lurk in the long shadows of the flickering candles as they grow ever shorter and the venue grows ever darker. The effect is nothing short of stunning, making for an almost overwhelming finale to a night of the most remarkable music.

Ultha / Ante-Inferno / Wolvencrown / Terra / Oneiros – The Fulford Arms, York, 13th April 2025

Posted: 14 April 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Ultha have been going for over a decade now, and have amassed an impressive catalogue of releases, but this is the German black metal band’s first UK tour. They’re out with Ante-Inferno as touring buddies, and tonight offers an impressive five-act lineup with early doors. And what could be better than back-to-back blistering metal on a Sunday evening? Some may suggest pretty much anything, but for many metal fans, this is the ultimate escape before the return to work. And with an early start and an early finish, this is gig perfection in terms of planning.

It’s not far off in terms of bands, either. Back-to-back black metal may sound like a slog, but tonight’s showcase presents the full spectrum of an increasingly diverse genre, with much to be excited about.

The venue is pretty busy from the start, and Oneiros make for a solid opening act, with atmospheric passages giving way to big, throbbing riffs. In terms of guitar work, apart from a bit of Brian May flourishing at the start of the second song, there’s nothing particularly flashy on display here, instead focusing on bold heavy chugs, and the songs evolve through movements defined by some deft tempo changes. There are some slower, trudging grooves which work nicely, and the front man doesn’t use his growly singing voice in between songs, which is a bonus. Sometimes, theatre is a stretch too far. They’re decent, for sure.

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Oneiros

Power trio Terra arrive in a wall of feedback and then blast in with some bowel-shredding bass. And they bring power to the max, with dual vocals and a maximalist sound. The bassist has obviously nabbed his stance from Lemmy as he leans back and raises his head up to the elevated mic. This is fierce. These guys have all the hair and all the beards and deliver a devastating wall of noise, with lengthy instrumental passages plugging away at expansive, repetitive riffs: they’re something like a black metal Hawkwind. The set’s five listed songs were performed as a single, continuous thirty-minute piece, and it was truly immense. For a band of this calibre to be so low on the bill speaks volumes about the quality of the lineup here.

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Terra

Wolvencrown are rather more clean-cut, but still bring beards, albeit trimmed ones (apart from the drummer). The quartet also bring the evening’s first synths and a whiff of Deep Heat. Their sound is crisper, cleaner, more cinematic, with rolling piano and soaring strings in the mix amidst their wide-screen compositions, which are overtly more technical in their bent, the lineup boasting seven-string guitar and five-string bass. The vocals hit the higher range, which adds a certain tension. Expansive, emotive, and highly polished, they’re hard to fault technically, and offer some immersive noise, too.

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Wolvencrown

Ante-Inferno bring the face paint. Not corpse paint, but dark smears, extending to arms and chests, too. With imposing candelabras positioned either side of the drum kit and smouldering incense smoke drifting from the stage, we’re in dark pagan territory here, and dressed in black and smeared in black, they’re barely visible in the low-level lighting. The sound is as filthy as their skins, scorched by the flames of hell as they create a sonic blanket that evokes pure purgatory. Heavy isn’t even close. It’s brutal and relentless, and there is no let-up at any point during their forty-five minute set.

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Ante-Inferno

Ultha’s lighting of choice is red, and red only. The stage is bathed in a bloodlike hue as they unleash their relentless fury. Their kit has two bass drums, and they’re blasted hard throughout. The vocals are a rabid squawk, pitching down to a guttural growl, and the interplay between the two vocals is perfect. Apart from the drums, which are up in the mix and clear as day, the instruments mesh into a dense squall of noise. This meshing creates a wall of noise that borders on shoegaze, only with thundering percussion and everything coming at a thousand miles per hour. It’s a full-throttle raging racket and they play primarily under red lighting, but seem remarkably affable between songs, even laid back, unflustered by a bust snare as they borrow one from another band. Theirs is a confidence that only comes from experience, and it shines through in the solidity of the performance.

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Ultha

For anyone who is of the opinion that all black metal sounds the same, tonight’s lineup abundantly disproves such a misconception, and while it may sound perverse to many, there’s something, if not necessarily soothing, then escapist about extreme metal shows. Mostly, the fans immerse themselves in the barrage of noise, nodding along in their own worlds.

Even having worn earplugs, I leave with my ears screaming, but feeling ultimately calm and uplifted.

Gans / Mince / Richard Carlson Band – The Fulford Arms, York, 8th April 2025

Posted: 12 April 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

This isn’t one of the three bands for six quid efforts I’ve been raving about, but three bands from out of town for eleven quid is hardly extortion, even on a Tuesday night, and Gans might have much social media presence, but they definitely have some traction building. Bearing in mind that it’s the Easter break and many students at both of the universities have gone home, the place is noticeably busy, and there’s a conspicuous number of really tall bastards in tonight, young and old. And while I’m inching towards being an old bastard myself, I shall never be tall, but will be eternally aggravated by the towering twats who step to the front row in a venue with a stage that’s barely a foot high. That’s just a personal peeve, and there’s not much you can do about biology.

But there is something you can do about being a decent band, and I’ll admit my expectations are pretty low at the start of the set by the Richard Carlson Band, from Sheffield. It’s not the sax per se, but the slightly awkward presentation, the smooth jazzy leanings, my instinct to summarise this as ‘nice; and move on… but while their set is jazzy in part, it’s also varied, in places evoking Ian Dury, in others Duran Duran circa Seven and the Ragged Tiger… ‘Barrymore’s Pool Party’ goes darker and calls to mind Girls Vs Boys and The Fall, only with sax. They’re a five-piece with two – or three guitars, the third guitarist sometimes does keyboard, and they’ve no bass, instead finding the second guitar being run through a pedal that turns it into a bass. It’s unusual, and their set is both interesting and well-played.

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Richard Carlson Band

Mince, from Leeds, are also a quintet, and appropriate for their name, serve up some fairly standard meat and two veg punky fair. In fairness, they do at least do it with some energy. A few songs in the whip out a choppy guitar that’s pure Gang of Four and for a moment they’re ace. Then it’s back to sounding like The Godfathers crossed with generic indie / punk. The pace picks up as the set progresses: the standard doesn’t, descending into shit shouty indie. The last song, their upcoming single, is the best they have by a mile. It’s solid, but they’ve set the bar low.

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Mince

Gans are something else, and that something is superlative. Hard-hitting two-piece acts have become a prominent feature of the rock scene in the last decade, with Royal Blood blowing open a fair few doors before blowing their cool in spectacular fashion. Being rather less preoccupied with classic rock and more about raw punk energy, Gans are more reminiscent of Slaves before they sold out to the Man and became Soft Play. Gans set out to entertain, and absolutely give it their all, making a massive bloody racket in the process, with only bass and drums. I say ‘only’, but that bass sound is immense, and the bassist can’t keep still for a second: he positively vibrates with energy, while the drummer… kicking out rolling rhythms that have the glammy swagger of Adam and the Ants and The Glitter Band, he plays hard and with style: watching him, I continually return to the question ‘how does the man breathe, let alone sing while doing this?’

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Gans

Although they’ve only released five songs to date, they’ve got plenty more in the bag, and there’s no filler to be found here. They are truly a joy to watch, and they maintain the energy from start to finish throughout their high-intensity forty-minute set. Catch them in a small venue while you still can.

deathlounge / Soma Crew / Threat Detector – The Basement, York, 29th March 2025

Posted: 30 March 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

deathlounge showed considerable promise when they featured early doors at an all-dayer late last year, at one of the final gigs hosted at The York Vaults, so to witness their EP launch feels like a significant stage in their progression.

I don’t appear to have attended a gig at The Basement, underneath the City Screen cinema since September 2016, and as their website no longer exists and their Facebook Page hasn’t seen a new post in almost three years, I had assumed it was done as a live music venue. There have been a few significant and positive changes to the layout, but the lighting still isn’t the best. Still, it’s good to be here, and three bands for six quid – less than the price of a pint here – is a no-brainer for some Saturday night live music entertainment.

In September 2016, it was Soma Crew opening for The Lucid Dream, and on noting this fact, I recall that Soma Crew were also the last band I saw before lockdown. My reviews have come to form something of a personal archive, a diary of sorts, and Soma Crew are a frequently recurring feature. And it’s not just because they play a lot locally that I’ve seen them so many times. We’ll return to them shortly, as Threat Detector is up first, and their offering is definitely different – from one song to the next.

A solo artist with live guitar and vocals against a backing track, what we get is some sample-soaked post rock and alternative rock and synth pop, making for an eclectic set which sometimes feels a little uncertain of where it’s headed. The timing of both the guitar and the vocals are a bit out in places, possibly at least partly on account of the drums being so low in the mix. The backing is well-programmed when it’s fully audible, which is mostly during the electronic songs which occupy the second half of the set. But when paired with the guitar, it’s often largely submerged, and the sound is pretty muddy overall. There do nevertheless seem to be some decent tunes with a pop edge in amidst that thick, gritty guitar sound – whether it was supposed to sound quite like that I’m not sure. It’s very much a set of two halves, returning to the guitar for the last song.

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Threat Detector

Soma Crew are presenting with another different lineup permutation, notably with Andy Wiles of Percy back on bass. It’s a classic set of mesmeric, droning, one-chord riffs spinning out for an eternity. Watching the keyboard player tapping his foot while holding two fingers in the same position for five minutes is quite an unexpected marvel. When they lock into a groove, they’re a band you could watch all night. In this low-ceilinged room, with a stage that’s barely 3” high, at volume, and at this proximity, where the backline is right in your face, they are in their element and sound fantastic.

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Soma Crew

deathlounge play the four tracks from their eponymous EP up front at the start of the set, back-to-back. Across the four songs they showcase the full spectrum of their songwriting. The style may be varied, but the musicianship is tight and the band cohere not only sonically but visually, with bassist, guitarist, and drummer all looking like they belong together, and this works in that while they lunge and lurch hard in their respective spaces (admittedly, on a stage this size there’s no real scope for mobility), the singer Chazz does his own thing. He brings his own energy and paces about as he spits anguish and disaffection.

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deathlounge

At times they venture through the domains of emo and punk pop, but they’ve got a strong line in solid, grungy, punky riffs, and something of a cowboy obsession, resulting in some hard-driving country and a hint of ‘Rawhide’ on one of the songs. Towards the end – a solid forty-five minutes into the set, with a couple still to go – it did begin to feel as if it was a bit of a stretch for a band this early on in their career, on account of the material being new and unreleased, and thus unfamiliar. But the potential evidenced a few months back continues to glimmer and glow. Next stop: the album.

Wardruna / Jo Quail – The Barbican, York, 22nd March 2025

Posted: 23 March 2025 in Live
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Christopher Nosnibor

Whistles, hoots, and pipes welcome the sellout crowd as they filter in – very slowly, due to the intense security involving airport style metal detectors on the forecourt, and of course, bag checks, the disposal of any fluids, and enforced cloakrooming of said bags (once any bottles of water etc. have been confiscated). Having only frequented small shows for the last few years, I’d forgotten – or erased – this aspect of attending larger venues, and it strikes me as sad that this is the world we live in now, and I drink my £8 pint very slowly indeed. But tonight is a night where it’s possible to distance oneself from all of the shit and recapture some of what’s been lost, however fleetingly.

Jo Quail, who never fails to deliver less than stunning performances, commands the large stage – and audience – with a captivating half-hour set, which opens with ‘Rex’ and swiftly builds an immense, dramatic, layered sound with loops continually expanding that sound. There’s no-one else who is really in the same field: with the innovative application of a range of pedals – not least of all a loop – she makes her solo cello sound like a full orchestra, with thunderous rumbles, percussion and big rock power chords all crashing in.

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Jo Quail

It’s a new song called ‘Embrace’ which is the second of her three pieces, and she closes with ‘Adder Stone’ from 2014 LP Caldera, which would subsequently provide the mane for her independent label. The rapturous reception is well-deserved. Her richly emotive sound is certainly a good fit with Wardruna, and it’s likely she’s won herself a fair few new fans tonight.

While the place had been pretty busy when she took to the stage, the lights come up at the end of her set and suddenly, it’s packed. Thuds and rumbles build the anticipation for the main event.

Opening the set with ‘Kvitravn’, Wardruna immediately create a fully immersive atmosphere with strong choral vocals and huge booming bass, and it’s an instant goosebumps moment. Recorded, they’re powerful, compelling: live, the experience goes way beyond. The vibrations of the bass and the thunderous percussion awaken senses seemingly dormant.

Performing as a seven-piece, hearing their voices coming together, filling the auditorium and rising to the skies is stirring, powerful and infinitely greater than the sum of the parts. It’s the perfect demonstration of what can be achieved through unity and collectivism, and the multiple percussive instruments being beaten, hard, with focus and passion produces something that’s almost overwhelming, and goes so far beyond mere music… It’s intense, and intensely spiritual, too.

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Wardruna

The sound is phenomenal, and it’s augmented by some incredible lighting: no standard spots or flashy lasers here: this is a magnificently considered and perfectly-choreographed display which works with the backdrop and the foliage on stage to optimally compliment and accentuate the performance. While I’m often somewhat unenthused by the larger-venue experience, preferring the intimacy of the sub-five-hundred capacity venue, this is a show that could only work on a big stage. Somehow, it’s the only way to do justice to music that truly belongs in a forest clearing, or on a clifftop, or on a glacier amidst the most immense and rugged vistas on the planet.

On ‘Lyfjaberg’, they achieve the perfect hypnotic experience, while dry ice floods the stage and lies about their ankles like a thick, low-lying forest mist, before Einar performs a solo rendition of Voluspá.

The second half of the set elevates the transcendental quality still further, as the percussion dominates the throbbing drones which radiate in Sensurround. This is music that exalts in the wind , waves, birds, trees – and the bear – and celebrates power of nature. It’s an experience that brings home just how far we have come from our origins, and a reminder that not all progress is good. Humans are the only species who adapt their habitat to their needs, rather than adapting to their habitat, and it’s a destructive trait. Even parasites strive to achieve a symbiotic relationship with their host, and a parasite which kills its host is a failed parasite because it finds itself seeking a new host. Without the earth, we have no habitat: we will not be colonising Mars any time soon, whatever Elon Musk says, or however much Philip K Dick you may read. But experiencing Wardruna live is the most uplifting, life-affirming experience.

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Wardruna

They bring up the lights and bask in the rapturous applause for some considerable time, before Einar speaks on nature and tradition and the importance of song, before they close with funeral song ‘Helvegen’, illuminated in red with burning torches along the front of the stage. It’s a strong, and moving piece delivered with so much soul that it’s impossible not to be affected.

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Wardruna

After another lengthy ovation, Einar dismisses the rest of the band and performs ‘Hibjørnen’ – a lullaby from a bear’s perspective – solo. After such a thoroughly rousing hour and a half, it makes for a beautifully soothing curtain close.

This was not merely a concert, and the performance, theatrical as it was, was not theatre, but a sincere channelling of purest emotion, a quest to connect the players with the audience and their innermost souls and their origins. It’s a unifying, and even a cleansing experience, a reminder of how we can all step back, breathe, and refocus. This was something special.

Shoe York: Aiming / Moongate / Joseph B Paul – The Fulford Arms, York, 15th March 2025

Posted: 16 March 2025 in Live, Reviews
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Christopher Nosnibor

Ah, Shoe York, indeed… I find some amusement in the fact that the original York feel compelled to reference its later tribute city. I’m not sure if Brew York is just a plain pub or born out of a feeling that punning on New York may be in some way beneficial to their profile – but they do make some great beers and are doing well in terms of distribution and expanding their pub outlets, and this can only be a good thing. Shoe York, meanwhile, offers a nigh of shoegaze courtesy of a trio of local acts.

Some MBV lurches from the PA as I find a surface to lodge my pint of porter, and the place is filling up early doors, which is encouraging, and also heartening. Grassroots venues tend to survive on tribute bands and the bigger visiting bands, so to see a local night so well-attended is significant.

Joseph B Paul does a line in New Order / Joy Division influenced pop that at times sounds more like a darkly spun reimagining of Erasure. The setup is with live guitar, and everything else sequenced, and the drums are way too low in the mix, depriving the songs of the groove that’s clearly integral to their form. In contrast, the vocals are possibly a bit too forward, and devoid of any reverb, they sit on top of, rather than within the arrangements. Joseph does some bouncy dancing and it’s all very 80s, and perhaps there are dreampop elements in the mix, but it doesn’t exactly feel shoesgaze as much as shoehorned.

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Joseph B Paul

Suddenly, it’s absolutely rammed by the time Moongate take the stage. There is a bar queue, too. I don’t simply mean the bar is busy: there is a queue of individuals snaking back halfway into the rows of people facing the stage. This is wrong. It is not how bars work. I circumnavigate the queue. I don’t get served much quicker, but feel some sense of relief in not perpetuating this dismal wrongness, and I do make it back to the front in time for Moongate.

Moongate do a nice line in dreamy indie that jangles, drifts, and washes gently with a hint of melancholy over the ears, and Joseph has a lot to answer for, being the subject of around 75% of the set, the subject matter of which is predominantly heartbreak, breakups and breakdowns. It’s a nice set, and they’ve got clear potential – and more so when the singer moves on from Joseph.

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Moongate

Aiming are three serious, studious, earnest bearded young men. Their drum machine is also low in the mix, but with a crisp, Roland snare sound cutting through the swathes of layering guitar and synths. The live bass has a bouncy groove and is really solid in a 4/4 chuggalong way. In fact, the bassist is excellent, delivering sturdy low-end, and this works: the band have a certain energy and a level of polish that’s slick but nor completely slock or passionless.

The band don’t do chat, but the audience does. This is the most loudly talkative audience I’ve experienced in a while, it’s positively a roar between songs.

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Aiming

The song they announce as a new song is perhaps the strongest of the set, which is encouraging, with a delicate melody and solid guitar and bass fusing together. It works well, but there are no real surges or crescendos, and as much as these may be more overtly shoegaze in forms, on this outing… they could do better. But… they’re tight, melodic, captivating, and go down a storm.

Feather Trade / Suspicious Liquid / Different State / Averno – The Fulford Arms, York, 6th March 2025

Posted: 7 March 2025 in Live
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Christopher Nosnibor

This is another of the outstanding ‘four bands for the price of a pint at the O2’ nights that’s become a consistent feature at The Fulford Arms in recent months, and the fact that previous outings have demonstrated that Feather Trade are worth easily double that on their own makes this an absolute must.

Tonight’s outing for post-punk 80s jangle indie five-piece Averno is rough round the edges, with a slightly scronky bass sound, and they sound – and sure, I’m showing my age here – like bands sounded in the 80s and 90s before everything got ultra-polished. Something happened along the way, where nearly every pub band came to display the slickness of arena bands. Historically, even big bands might hit bum notes, sound a bit flat or ropey, and we embraced it because it was liv and it wasn’t expected to sound like the studio version. Averno do sound a shade ramshackle, but the sound improved and their confidence visibly grew as the set progressed, and the appeal here is that they sound… real. They don’t hit any bum notes, and they look and sound stronger this time around.

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Averno

Grunge power trio Different State bring keen melodies and dark undercurrents – there are hints of 8 Storey Window and Bivouac alongside the obvious Nirvana nods, and the riffs are proper chunky. I reckon the drummer thought he got away with dropped stick twizzle in the second song… but he certainly recovered it well. In terms of performance, sound quality, in fact, absolutely everything, although they may not give us anything we haven’t heard before (I had to check to see if I’d seen them before, and I haven’t, and was simply experiencing that deva-vu that reverberates with certain types of bands), they did turn in an outstanding performance that made it feel like we were in a substantially larger venue.

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Different State

And then came Suspicious Liquid, who proved to be the revelation of the night. THIS is a band. And what a band. Unprepared, I wasn’t the only one to stand, jaw ajar, marvelling at the all-round magnificence of this act. Ostensibly, they’re a hard rock act, but they’re so much more, and they do it all so well. The soaring vocals are simply breathtaking – at times verging on the operatic, but also gutsy, and they sit well with the instrumentation, which is dark, with gothic hints, hitting full-on witchy metal and at times bringing big, beefy, Sabbath-esque riffs. At times, I’m reined of The Pretty Reckless, but Suspicious Liquid are way better, and way more dynamic. The vocalist is a strong focal point visually, but it’s her phenomenal vocals which really captivate. Unusually, in context, the front row is predominantly female, and this speaks significantly about not only the band but the fact the venue feels like a safe space – and it’s a space to watch high drama delivered with real weight and a rare assurance. It’s an immensely powerful set, and it’s not a huge stretch to imagine Suspicious Liquid touring nationally or being signed to a label like New Heavy Sounds.

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Suspicious Liquid

Just as some say that everything is better with bacon, it’s a musical fact that everything sounds better with reverb – and when it’s loud. Feather Trade have great songs and great style, but fully appreciate the additional benefits of reverb. They’ve sounded great every time I’ve seen them: they’re simply a quality band, who have survived every single spanner thrown into their works to emerge triumphant. Perhaps were it not for the spanners, they’d be headlining the O2 instead of The Fulford Arms – by rights they should be, because they’re that good, and tonight, the sound and the feel is more like a Brudenell gig than The Fulford Arms. Put simply, Feather Trade sound immense. Dense, layered guitar defines the sound, propelled by sturdy drumming and a tight, throbbing bass. There are no weak elements.

‘Dead Boy’ is a raging celebration of cancer survival which absolutely melts in tsunami of noise, a full on squall akin to The Jesus and Mary Chain, and with motorik drum-pad beats, and a huge squalling mesh of treble-loaded, reverb-drenched, and everything at a hundred decibels is reminiscent of A Place to Bury Strangers.

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Feather Trade

‘Trump hate song’ (as they pitch it) ‘Lord Have Mercy’ is absolutely blistering, while in contrast, penultimate song ‘Hold’ is altogether poppier and ventures into anthemic territory. It’s no criticism when I say it reminds me of Simple Minds but way heavier. It is a brain-meltingly strong performance, yielding a colossal wall of sound, ear-shredding, treble-laden reverb on reverb. Volume is not substitute for skill, of course, but it can optimise the intensity of a strong performance – and this was a strong performance, the kind of experience that leaves you in a headspin, utterly blown away. These guys deserve to be as huge as they sound.

The Bastard Sons / This House We Built / Sleuth Gang / Straw Doll – The Crescent, York, 28 February 2025

Posted: 1 March 2025 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,
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Christopher Nosnibor

Just under 5 years ago, I arrived at this venue feeling a sense of nervousness, as if the world was on a precipice, as we greeted one another with elbow bumps and the car staff were polyethene gloves and aprons. Practically hours later, we went into lockdown. There are no elbow bumps or PPE tonight, but having seen shit go south in the Oval Office of The Whitehouse on a day which will likely go down as a pivotal moment in world history while eating my dinner before heading out, I arrive with the same kind of creeping panic. As is often the case, I’m here for a spot of escapism, one of the most essential benefits of live music, and whether or not anyone else whose down tonight is experiencing the same kind of existential; fear, I suspect many are here for the same thing.

The Bastard Sons – that’s the York band, not to be confused with Phil Campbell’s post-Motörhead band, formed in 2015 – have been away for a long time. After much build-up, they released their debut album, Smoke in 2015, to no small acclaim from the likes of Kerrang. And then… a few local gigs and… Having finally got around to presenting a new single, they’ve been persuaded to tread the boards once more, heading a four-act lineup with an early start.

On promptly at 7:45, just fifteen minutes after doors, Straw Doll may be Metallica, but they’re equally Alice in Chains and Soundgarden, serving up a grunge metal hybrid, with debut single ‘Confess’ being exemplary, while ‘Denial’ leans somewhat on ‘Nothing Else Matters’. Although perhaps a shade predictable at times, with some chunky riffs they delivered a tight and solid set, which was all the more impressive for being their first live outing.

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Straw Doll

It seems hard to credit that I’ve witnessed acts who can be seen or claim to be channelling The Beastie Boys twice in a fortnight at rock gigs, but here we are, bracing ourselves for Sleuth Gang, York battle of the bands winners who promise ‘the harder edge of hip hop mashed with Beastie Boys, early punk, grime, and the experimental post-hardcore/electronicore of Enter Shikari.’ There’s a couple of bellends – one with a mullet – leaning all over the monitors and slopping their pints on the floor before they even start. Sure enough, they only seem to have about five fans, and said ‘fans’ are intent on barging one another so hard to see if they’ll stay up or career into the crowd outside the ‘pit’. The band keep calling the audience forward, but they end up stepping back to make room for their antics instead. The guitarist leaps off the stage, sinks half of mullet guy’s mate’s pint and then throws the rest of it over him. He wipes down his tracksuit top, smiling like he’s just been enunciated.

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Sleuth Gang

Their second song is a cover of The Prodigy’s ‘Omen’, and it’s the best song in the set by a mile. With their three MCs, it’s like watching Limp Bizkit fronted by a nu-metal version of the Village People… It takes a particular type of tosser to wear boot cut pleather jeans and a leather waistcoat, not to mention while chewing a toothpick. They spend half the set yelling for us to ‘Make some fucking noise’ ‘put your hands up’ and ‘let’s see your fucking energy’. Yeesh. My energy is at the bar.

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Sleuth Gang

This House We Built are older guys… The front man, who’s not especially tall, draws attention to the fact by having a little portable platform, a little like a low and unstylish occasional table, to the fore of his mic stand, and he rests a foot on it and sometimes stands on it to deliver widdy solos. He wants to see our fingers – horns, that is, not middle ones. It’s fairly standard hair rock, a bit Aerosmith, a bit Bon Jovi… the bassist reckons he’s in 80s ZZ Top. With his illuminated frets, metallic finish five-string bass and wraparound shades, he’s actually the coolest thing about the band.

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This House We Built

It’s been a long time since The Bastard Sons played – eight years, no less – and it’s apparent that they have been missed. Despite the time away, they’re finely honed as a live unit.

For the uninitiated, JJ’s vocals are perhaps the greatest obstacle in their rapid-cut screamo metalcore assault. Within the space of a single line, he’s gone from melodic to guttural via screaming. And he’s far too old to be showing so much boxer above beltline, surely. For the fans – and the venue, which is pretty packed, is massively into it – time has stood still, and that’s great, but the world itself has moved on.

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The Bastard Sons

“What the fuck is uuuuuup??” comes the shout from the stage. Well, you may well ask, Mr Bastard. The moshpit that broke out three songs in mostly appeared to consist of Sleuth Gang – hailed as ‘one of the best bands you’ll ever see’ by JJ – and their mates. The waistcoat guy’s now put on a tasselled leather jacket. There are fat middle aged blokes with shirts off, twirling them like helicopter blades over their heads, there’s play-wrestling, nosebleeds, and mums in PVC dresses losing their shit, and I almost forget the band and their woah-woah choruses. It’s rare to see quite such a conglomeration of cockends. But when all is said and done, for a band to come back after an eight-year absence and to grip a crowd so tightly and to attract such unbridled adulation, they have to have something, and there’s no questioning the fact that they bring the riffs and the energy – although there is a sense that while joshing about the (now slightly older) crowd being happy for the earlier, 10:45 finish, so are they, having run out of songs and energy after an hour. And that’s ok, especially as this looks like the start of an actual comeback.

Paskfest – The Fulford Arms, York, 22 February 2025

Posted: 23 February 2025 in Live, Reviews
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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Christopher Nosnibor

One might feel that naming an event after yourself is a bit of an egofest, but when the event in question is, essentially, the organiser’s birthday party, well, fair enough. And Mr Pasky has been putting on decent gigs for a while now, boasting eclectic lineups, and if live music is your thing, is there a better way of celebrating a birthday than putting on a bunch of bands you like and opening the venue doors to see them free of charge?

With doors being at 3pm, I missed the first couple of acts, and arrived in time for Pat Butcher, who I’ve not seen in an age, and all I can remember about them is carrots. They deliver a confident set of aggressive punk rock, with angry-sounding songs about- kidney stones, IBS, and raceday wankers – relatable to anyone who resides in York. And late on, they land the comical, gimmicky ‘Carrot in a Minute’, whereby they distribute raw carrots among the audience and challenge them to eat them within the song’s minute-long duration… just for shits an’ giggles. There’s something quite uplifting and entertaining witnessing a bunch of guys getting worked up about mundane stuff like neighbours who vacuum clean at all hours.

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Pat Butcher

Fat Spatula are up next, and I find I like them more each time I see them. Did I write that about them last time, too? Quite possibly, but then it’s true. They really seems to be hitting new peaks and seem more confident, too. ‘Benefits Tourist’ goes uptempo and shoutier amidst energetic but affable US indie style. There are hints of Pixies and Pavement, and some country leanings, too. A lot of the verses are delivered rapidfire like REM It’s the End of the World as We Know It’, but later on, experimental spoken word gives way to kinetic space rock with blasting motorik drums on the penultimate song. I’’s only three or four minutes long, but with that locked-in groove, they could do a half-hour long version and it still wouldn’t be long enough.

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Fat Spatula

As I mentioned, eclectic lineups are Pasky’s thing, and OG3 are a power trio who start out like Beastie Boys circa ‘83, but the rest of the set is a melding of punk and emo and some weird hybrid efforts that are like Eminem fronting a grunge act. And then they cover ‘Fight for Your Right’… and do a top job of it. There’s a bit of nu-metal going on, too, and the overall vibe is kinda Judgement Night soundtrack. It shouldn’t work, but it actually does.

Illegal Fireworks take to the stage sporting quite spectacular gold brocade jackets… Yes, plural: the bassist, guitarist, and drummer are all decked out in these quite remarkable garments, while the singer is all the sequins. It’s a bold look, and no mistake. The trouble is, it’s not an ironic gesture, and in the first minute I find myself absolutely detesting their smug, smooth, funky jazz. Not that I’m judgemental or anything… I just detest smug, smooth, funky jazz. But then they get a bit prog, a bit post rock, and show some potential. But thereafter they stick to smug, soul-infused smooth, funky jazz. Technically, they’re faultless, objectively they’re outstanding, and they go down a storm. But subjectively, I absolutely fucking hate it all, but especially the gurning bassist. It’s the kind of thing that would have been massive in the 80s, they’d have been all over Top of the Pops with glitterballs and dry ice and balloons bobbing about, and I’d have fucking hated it then, too. I know, I know, it’s a question of taste, but seriously, they should be illegal.

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Illegal Fireworks

I have reservations about Flat Moon at first, coming on like Glasto-loving middle-class hippies with their brand of parping sax-heavy jazz space rock. But there’s something compelling about their style and the delivery. I’m reminded in some way of Gong, and that trippy, whimsical strain of psychedelia, and they’ve got some riffs, and shit. are they tight. It’s no small feat considering there are six of them. They work seriously hard and bring entertainment to the max – and ultimately this is what tonight is all about.

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Flat Moon

There will be very few who loved every band on the bill, but that’s kind of the point of a lineup like this: you’ll get to see bands you might not have otherwise gone to see, you might like some and not others, and that’s fine. For a long, long time, the best thing about York was its proximity to Leeds, but now, even while there’s a dearth of venues, the city is throwing up a remarkable number of quality acts – for all tastes. And that is something to celebrate.

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