The Rise Of The Pre-Order Bundle

I love stuff. Things. Merchandise. Tat. When Bring Me The Horizon decided to make dick shaped silly bands available on their last tour, I was one of the first to the merch desk, cash in hand, close to wailing ‘Fine sir, my life would be enriched with the purchase of overpriced elastic bands that I’ll never open and ultimately leave in a drawer somewhere!’. When My Passion released a delightfully lurid, gold plastic mac for their golden tour, I too decided that I’d spiral into a pit of depression should I not dress myself in a massive metallic bin bag. But my money-scattering doesn’t end with novelty rubbish.

I go to a lot of gigs, I binge, I feel guilty, but then I want more.  It began innocently enough. When I was twelve, I somehow persuaded my mother to take me halfway across the country to see Meatloaf. Naturally, I wanted to get a t-shirt to commemorate the gig, to show my friends how much I loved that chubby warbler (hey, I doubt your first ‘proper gig’ was much cooler). Stupidly and relentlessly, I carried on with this perceived necessity for merchandise well into my teenage years and beyond. As I left home for the first time, I found that I could travel, live out my dream of following a whole tour and see so many bands that I’d wanted to for years. I went mad, travelled everywhere and bought everything. Then it happened. I came home, bought my new life back with me and unpacked it. Have you ever seen a family stage a drug intervention? Seen a mother hold up a small bag of something white and powdery and ask why? Well switch that bag for over one hundred and twenty t-shirts and you’ve got a pretty good idea of the situation. While I’m cold turkey on shirts, I still regularly splash out on pre-orders. Oh merchandise, I just can’t quit you.

When many bands now announce the release date of their new album/EP/single/bowel movement, they also announce the various options by which to pre-order it. We’re no longer offered a CD, the music itself, no! We’re offered the DVD (some of which can be rather good), the commemorative t-shirt, the flag, the belt buckle, the bottle opener, the pencil sharpener and the lenticular poster. Will we ever use them? Of course not. When was the last time you thought ‘What I really need in my life is a commemorative jam jar for the B side of a dodgy single release’. It’s the exclusivity that drags our cursor over to the PayPal button, the threat of missing out on one of fifty. The very idea that we’d miss out on the album with commemorative baseball cap fills us with fear. Our enjoyment of the release will be severely dampened should we not shell out another £15 for things we don’t really want. I for one was sure that I wouldn’t be fully appreciating the full experience of Polar’s Iron Lungs if I didn’t buy the commemorative print. And I certainly wouldn’t enjoy Cradle of Filth’s Darkly, Darkly Venus Aversa without the art prints and the uninspiring t-shirt.  In short, add ‘limited’ to the end of any old thing and you’ve pretty much guaranteed yourself a sale.  Add a countdown to how many are left and you’ve got even more.

It’s hard to figure out which invented the beast of the bundle; the label or the musician. Musicians are more often than not, ‘starving artist’ types, so any means of capitalising on their product is sure to be embraced. But moreso nowadays, even small, unsigned bands are offering their own ‘bundles’ and limited releases. All of which is neither here nor there, but the whole focus of many bands, both established and otherwise, has shifted considerably. Firstly, take My Passion. Opposed to establishing a small merchandise section to their online presence, they formed ‘My Passion Fashion’; a standalone merchandise website that at one time held around twenty t-shirt designs. In the end, following the end of all Inside This Machine promotion, the dust began to settle and My Passion Fashion crumbled. On the other end of the spectrum, there’s the times when non-official band merchandise becomes available; the plectrum or the setlist of the online world. Every now and again, the opportunity arises to own something from a video or from an artist’s personal collection, and this is where prices begin to skyrocket.

All of us at TwoBeatsOff are big fans of Kickstarter-esque self-funding/fan-funding options, but when the options go beyond pledging to buy the CD or offering a small financial boost to an artist, lines begin to blur. Take Yashin’s largely fan-funded We Created A Monster. Through Pledgemusic, fans were able to preorder the CD, get their name in the album sleeve or even attend a meet and greet- all for a price. But many options were beyond self indulgent; fans were able to buy t-shirts worn by the vocalists for sums approaching three figures. This is both frightening both in terms of future trends and of sheer money-grabbing behaviour, especially when you’re aware of the young and impressionable ages of many of your fans. Bring able to own a piece of your favourite artist’s world is, for want of a better term, fan crack. With more bands picking up on this financial power, the distance and power balance between fan and artist may birth a further problematic and destructive relationship.

Fatal Smile + Scarlett Riot – The Yardbirds, Grimsby 13/9/12

As far as venues go, The Yardbirds is a hard one to place. Home to the ‘Lincolnshire Warlocks’, an aging biker gang with a fondness for self-promotion and Americana, its purpose is oddly divided. Functioning partly as a biker crèche and partly as a tribute band support centre, you’d be forgiven for presuming that nothing of any real creative merit occurred within these walls. But thankfully, every now and again, they open their doors to original bands and patrons who can’t ride a bicycle, let alone a Harley. Although you’re greeted with a grunt and a deeply suspicious look, the drinks don’t require a bank loan and the atmosphere isn’t that frightening. Oddly, they have a projector running continuous live music DVDs and a sound system so powerful, it damn near dropkicks your eardrums. As far as the evening was going so far, the £6 entry wasn’t looking too bad, but with only one support band, we are all very aware that we wouldn’t be partying into the early hours.

Opening the evening of glamour and time-restricted debauchery were Scunthorpe’s finest Scarlett Riot (4/5), a hard rock outfit that sat comfortably somewhere between The Runaways and Halestorm. With amazingly catchy riffs and an originality that begs to be captured in an overly-expensive studio, to say they were impressive would be a huge understatement. I found myself to be truly aghast at how such a musically accomplished act could still be playing the lower realms of support slots. Nearly every song could have been deemed ‘a future classic’. As far as vocalists go, they’ve certainly got themselves a catch with Scarlett (Chloe Drinkwater) bearing a voice so rich and multi-faceted that you’d be hard pressed to admit she was born to do anything other than sing. Oh, and she’s pretty decent on the guitar too? Consider me sold. Saying that, the rest of the band were by no means surplus to requirements. The lead guitarist shone at every available opportunity and the drummer (despite being sat ridiculously high on his kit) was clean and crisp with a great natural groove. The bassist continued the trend and was certifiably hypnotic throughout their set, capturing my attention in every song; although his posture did impact slightly on the quality of his screams (although they were few and far between). Scarlett Riot were professional, original and more than a little bit exciting. With a new EP on the horizon, I’m sure their name will be cropping up a hell of a lot more.

When Fatal Smile (5/5) took to the stage, there were stunned looks and audible gasps aplenty. Imagine Motley Crüe had a sordid affair with The Defiled…in Sweden, all while listening to Queensryche, and you’ve just about got it. Fatal Smile encapsulates everything you ever loved about hard rock and glam, then they went and pushed it a little further. With big hair, bare torsos, tight jeans, pyrotechnics and sex dripping from every pore…  they certainly know how to make an impression. Harnessing the power chords and dirty grooves of 80s rock, they mix them with the vocal delivery of a European power metal band and create something rather bafflingly wonderful. This blend results in an overall sound that is both nostalgic and simultaneously fresh. The entire experience, at least in a venue of this diminutive size, was jarring to say the least. With enough stage makeup to make Black Veil Brides weep, smoke machines and lights crammed into every corner and custom mic stands that could well have cost more than the venue itself, the whole experience was akin to cramming an arena band into your living room. When their set came to a close, the powerful strains of their anthemic  S.O.B  transformed this tiny, sticky room into something far greater than any of us could’ve imagined. Although audience numbers couldn’t have exceeded seventy, they played their show as though we were ten thousand strong. They certainly won Grimsby over; it’s just a matter of time until the rest of the world follows suit.

Interview: Fair Do’s

It’s hard to really describe Fair Do’s. But what can be said about them is that they’re ridiculously good fun. Kitteh caught up with the four piece skate-tech-punk-insertyourfavouredgenrehere band at a punk/hardcore all dayer in Grimsby to quiz them on their DIY spirit, exactly what they play and our all time favourite question – who would win a knife fight with a bear?

If I may paraphrase the great Cilla Black- what’s your name and where do you come from?

Josh: I’ll take this one if you don’t mind. We’re Fair Do’s and that and we’re from Manchester and Rosendale. They’re two places from the North. You might have heard of them.

Danny: I’m Danny and I play guitar and do lots of other little bits.

John: (deadpan) I’m John and I play drums.

And the enthusiasm clearly comes from you, John.

Josh: He’s the driving force of all fun times in the band.

Danny: We fall asleep and we wake up where we need to be. Then he stops being enthusiastic. He’s enthusiastic about things not slowing down on the motorway.

Fair Do’s is quite a chirpy name

Josh: Chirpy? It is indeed-

Compared to a lot of bands that you often find yourself billed with; bands like Hang the Bastard-

Josh: We’re a fun time band for fun time people.

That sounds a little too much like a prostitution ring.

Josh: Nah, we’ve played in a lot of bands, but when it came down to Fair Do’s – Danny came up with the name – it does suit the band well. I mean you can come up with a name, then have to spend ten minutes explaining the meaning to them, then afterwards they just say ‘fair do’s’. Literally, that’s the craic.

Danny: The thing is though, when we named our band Fair Do’s, nobody said ‘fair do’s’, they just started asking what ‘Fair Do’s’ meant! It’s difficult to explain. You always have to give them a scenario, then end it with ‘fair do’s’. But you know what, it’s been on the Mighty Boosh, it’s been on Peep Show; it’ll be in the dictionary soon…WITH an apostrophe. Essentially, everyone knows what ‘fair do’s’ means, and i’m not saying it’s because of us… But we said it before it was cool. We were in a band that wore black shirts and red ties before it was cool. We’ve been doing it for ages.

You hardly play an identikit sound, so would you put yourself into a specific genre?

Josh: There isn’t really a genre, it’s just fast and aggressive!

John: Most people would call us skate punk first off, but we’re too technically able to be classed as that. We’re more melodic hardcore as opposed to a skate punk band who play five chords.

Josh: Aggressive disco.

Danny: The way I think about it, there are bands such as NOFX that have little Bill and Ted bits – bands like Almeida and Darko. You’ve got your standard punk, then you’ve got your ‘wibblywibblywoo’ bit. The thing with Fair Do’s is that we all listen to different shit, so it comes in from different areas.

Danny: We’ve all come from the same areas, you know, we were all listening to Strung Out, Death By Stereo- but then we got into a lot of metal. Take Strung Out, they have a lot of metal guitars, slightly lower tuning. They tune full D, we tune drop D, it’s just as low-

Josh: We also always have more aggressive singing. We go for a more intense singing. It’s not as though we don’t go for the more melodic singing-

Danny: We love melody, but to quote John, we don’t love poncery.

John: Poncery, poncery, we can’t do poncery.

Danny: Well if you’ve seen us with Sean (ex-vocalist), when he joined we re-did an old song to make it more melodic. But then we have friends who are in really fast, heavy hardcore bands and they saw it as us changing our entire sound, and started saying that they preferred us before. It’s just one song. We’re varied.

Do you think that saying that you’re influenced by metal is now a bit of a dirty word?

Josh: Not at all. When we say ‘metal’, it’s a gigantic fucking circle with so many bands in it. Take me and John for example. We like bands like Necrophagist, Black Dahlia Murder obviously – there a big influence for us. Take the Black Dahlia Murder; there a huge influence for us. I mean they’re well fast all the time – I mean they’ve got blasts and all that, but they’re still punk. It’s more like we’re not going to make songs about jumping around and going to shows, (terrible American accent) ‘yeah man, we’re at a show, everything’s so awesome’. We appreciate bands that do that, but it’s just not us.

Danny: This is an exclusive, but our songs aren’t really about anything. They just sound like they are! There’s one or two, but you’ve got to guess ‘em. They’re the sound that they are. There’s a song that I wrote in fifteen minutes as Bury College that was utterly ridiculous-

Josh: But at the same time, you can still get deepness from it. Because it’s up to you what you gain from it.

Danny: But on top of that question, we do get compared to Wilhelm Scream a lot. I don’t mind that at all, although I think we’re a bit more metal and a lot less tight than Wilhelm Scream.

Josh: I know what you mean though, about metal being a dirty word. Scenes move. When Nu-Metal came about, when people heard the buzzword ‘metal’ they thought ‘oh yeah, like Papa Roach’, no, no. Nowadays if you ask people about metal, they’re more likely to have heard of the Black Dahlia Murder over Limp Bizkit.

Danny: But it can also be a problem. Nowadays, if some people hear a melody, they think ‘oh, that’s emo’.

Josh: One thing we don’t like is to mix screaming with singing. It’s not that we don’t like bands that do that, it’s just that we want to create a general aura.

Whatever you do, you’re going to get pigeon-holed as hardcore or punk…

Josh: Then when people come up to you, they’re all ‘I think you’re like this, I think you’re like that’, then they ask you what you think you are. I just think, I don’t know mate, I’m playing folk music. You can see it in lots of Dance Music. You hear something, ask what it is, then they tell you it’s ‘fidgity cracky house’.

Danny: Jungle-break-core!

You gig a hell of a lot nowadays, into Europe and whatnot, and you’re usually put onto bills with similar artists, so you’re aware of what much of the scene is like nowadays. Would you say there are any particular forerunners at the moment?

Danny: Almeida are number one. A Wilhelm Scream are the best band I’ve ever seen, but Almeida are one of the best bands in the fucking country.

Josh: One of the first gigs we played was in Bognor, and Almeida were on afterwards, and we just stood there thinking ‘ah, wait, that’s what we want to do’. But there are loads of other bands that’re doing well for themselves, like Darko. The Fear are absolutely smashing it.

John: Bells on Records are good friends of ours, so we’re always around their bands.

Josh: There’s not so much a scene around at the moment, just a huge group of friends.

Danny: We met Laughing In The Face Of on tour. They play fast shit, melodic, banging. You meet a band, you play with them- between 95/99% of the time, you can watch a band and know that they’ll be really nice lads.

Josh: There are no real bands we think are shit, but I will say one thing. If you’re playing music and someone’s come to watch you, give them the time of day. If you’re in a band, talk to everyone. When you’re waltzing ‘round, you might look sick with your ears and your tattoos and your vest, but none of that matters.

Danny: I just realised how much shit we’re talking. In answer to your question, The Human Project, The Fear, Almeida, and they’re not around anymore but Sick Trick, From The Tracks, Drones.

Aside from record labels and all of that, I’ve seen Fair Do’s a few times before and you’ve always been armed with a stack of CDs to sell for a quid. Do you think the DIY ethos is the only way to keep young bands alive today?

John: The problem is, there are just so many people doing the same thing you do at the same time. You need to make yourself accessible. Fair enough if you can give your stuff out for free, but just charging a quid for four or five songs isn’t much. It’s nice when people take an interest in you, but more often than not, you’re wandering ‘round a venue, trying to force your merch on people. It’s not nice to do, but you have to do it.

Danny: It’s not nice, but when you’re on tour and you need fuel in the tank, and you’re away for many more weeks, it’s hard. You plough money into merch, and you always end up coming home with loads of t-shirts.

Josh: We’ve got a stack of CDs, we’ve copied them, put a sticker on them, and that’s it. We’re just trying to sell you the music. Hopefully in the future, everything will look well sick with CD sleeves and everything, but we’re not there yet.

John: That’s the harsh reality of being in a band. It’s not easy to buy all the things you need; fuel, instruments, a van, it’s not cheap. We don’t sit on our arses, thinking of songs to write; we work 9-5 all week and put our own money into our own products so we can give them away cheaply.

Danny: Take our EP, we’ve been working on that for god knows how long-

John: That’s the thing, you can get stuck in a rut, while you’re still itching to get them out. Who will do it for you if you’re not doing it yourself?

Josh: You need to spend money to make money. You should never set out to make money, just to get more people into your band. People spend fifty quid on a night out, fuck that.

John: Just make sure, if there’s a gig in your local town, just go. Give a few quid to the bands, buy a sticker; anything. We could be going out at weekends, hunting foxes and killing badgers, but we don’t. Just support music.

At Crash Doubt, your then vocalist turned up in a Kelly Clarkson t-shirt, which was great, but he stood out like a sore thumb in amongst all the muscle shirts and all that goes with it. Especially in terms of image, do you think hardcore is taking itself too seriously nowadays?

All: Yes!

John: I mean, we like to have fun, and we’re not a hardcore band that’s going to stand there with X’s tattooed on our chests.

I saw Brotherhood of the Lake play earlier this year, and their vocalist turned up in a balaclava, looking very IRA.

John: I don’t see the point of making a statement with your image when you could be making it with your music.

Josh: We’ve turned up to Lordi and Crust Punk gigs in t-shirts and jeans, and they just look at us gone out. You need to be in tight black gear with tattoos on your neck to fit in nowadays. If something’s comfortable, I’ll wear it. People do look at us a bit strange, but once you break down those barriers with people, it’s fine.

John: You have to be respectful, but it’s a stale scene really. It’s all the same. In Europe, things are fine, no one distrusts you, but back in England, its so image based. We don’t give a shit what anyone looks like though, we don’t care if your jeans are skinny or baggy or if you’ve got tattoos on your face.

Josh: Years ago, everyone was into Bring Me the Horizon and Architects; they were growing fringes, dying their hair black and wearing girls jeans. But scenes change, and most people are done with that. It’s fine stretching your ears really, really big, but two years later, you might change your mind, and then you have to deal with that.

Perhaps then, if you don’t get caught up in a certain image, it can give you a greater chance for longevity.

Josh: Black Dahlia Murder, right. They played one of their first gigs alongside people that were playing in all black, then they turned up in shorts and Hawaiian shirts. That’s what I always think back to.

Have you had any particular musical highlights this year in terms of your own performances or other band’s activity?

Danny: The New Frenzal Rhomb album, from Brisbane Australia, is one of the cleanest, cleanest albums i’ve heard in a long time, it’s awesome. That was last year though. The Fear’s new album too – they supported Belvedere at their first reunion gig in Paris and that was one of the best shows i’ve ever been to. In terms of our performances, I think we played pretty well at Flatliners.

John: We played with A Wilhelm Scream a while back an it was one of the best gigs we played; not only because we played with them, but because we were with a crowd that supported the support bands as much as the headliner. The whole set was just hammered and the support was really great. A great crowd, stood in front of you, going mental for twenty minutes was just great. Great for us to see something like that.

Danny: It was by far one of the best reactions we’ve ever had when we’ve been a support. We played a gig in Italy last year too, and I still think that’s the best gig we’ve ever played.

John: Completely different to the UK/mainland response. People willingly buy your merch as opposed to scoffing at it. They enjoy things and are aware far more of how things work. They realise it costs nothing to be nice. It always comes down to that.

Danny: Our tour in Europe in November is half booked and it doesn’t feel as though we’ve even got started yet. You usually go out with a load of strangers, but this time, we’re going out to meet friends. It’s also about being grateful for everything you’ve got. Always keep your eye on something. Keep asking. If you don’t get the gig that you want, then gig more and ask again.

Is there anything in Fair Do’s foreseeable future that’s exciting?

Danny: Yes! We’re going on tour in November with Almeida. The best band the UK has ever seen; and I know they’re big words. That means they’re better than Capdown, everything. Yep, yep, yep.

Josh: We’ve got the tour, we’ve got this demo/EP thing coming, then in the next six or nine months, we’re hoping to get an album going. Essentially, we want to try more than what we’ve got at the moment.  We want to get CDs sorted, proper CDs instead of these stickered demos. We might charge more, but it’d be a far more substantial purchase. Something to hold on to, something to put on your shelf.

Finally, we ask this question to every band we interview. Out of everyone in Fair Do’s, who would win in a knife fight with a bear?

Danny: Josh! He has the experience.

John: There’s much better things to kill than bears. What about politicians?

Danny: I suppose. I mean, a bear’s not going to fuck you over for money.

No, it’d just claw your face.

Josh: It wouldn’t claw your face, it’d take your fucking face off; it’d palm you.

Danny: When I was in Romania, in these mountains, I met this guy; he was a skinhead and a bit mental. He told me this story about this person who got slashed across the chest by a bear. Big fucking bears, and they would fuck you up.

Josh: Can a bear hold a knife?

Potentially, but it’s more likely that someone gaffer taped a knife to his paws-

Josh: Who did this? It’s a bit fucking cruel.

Danny: Is that like some vegan hardcore thing-

Josh: People who do these things to bears shouldn’t be included in a zine.

We don’t know who did this to the bear, it’s just been released-

Josh: What the fuck?

Well, one of you has to fight it.

Josh: Oli fucking Sykes would. Like a twat.

Danny: I’d fight the cunt who taped the knives to his paws.

John: The more likely scenario is that we’d all talk shit to it until it passed out, then we’d just leave.

Merthyr Rock Festival 2012 [31 Aug – 2nd Sept, Cyfarthfa Park, Merthyr Tydfil]

Despite Merthyr Rock only being in its second year, I already regard it as one of my favourite festivals and a more than necessary summer break. While Wales has produced some incredible bands over the years – Funeral For a Friend, Lostprophets and The Blackout but to name a few – it never quite got a break as far as festivals are concerned. That was until 2011 when Hay Festivals decided to not only rock the valleys, but blast a fresh crater into those grassy hills. Last year’s lineup was a day shorter but stellar nonetheless. Managing to snare such names as Young Guns, My Passion and Skindred for your first outing is beyond impressive, so to say there were high expectations for 2012 would be an understatement.

While I had tickets for all three days and attended each accordingly, alas, I am only one person and no doubt I missed some incredible performances on various stages over the days. So count this as a highlights package. Saying that, I varied my tastes and aimed to experience a good cross-section of all music available and you know what? Merthyr topped itself, the whole thing was bloody glorious, from the setup to the food to the weather. Parts of it were so brilliant, that I’m starting to think I dreamed it…

Despite my eventual glee, Friday was never going to be my night. I could liken the experience to being attacked with an indie machine gun; me and the Kooks get along about as well as Inigo Montoya and the man who killed his father. So who was headlining? Razorlight. It was going to be a long night.

But thankfully, before all that hat-wearing frivolity kicked off, there were a good few bands to get through. First on my agenda were The People The Poet (4/5) (formerly known as Tiger Please), who could easily have been awarded the title of ‘best vocals of the weekend’ without having to have seen any other acts. Their singer has the most luscious, rich, gravelly and overwhelmingly divine voice I’ve ever heard; imagine chucking whiskey in a cement mixer. To top this, their music is full and indulgent with all the simplicity and charm of traditional folk music. No doubt, they’ll be earmarked for future NME readers to fawn over, but until then, catch them before they realise how damn good they are. Also, they sang the cheeriest song of the weekend about abortion, so if that doesn’t merit a listen, I don’t know what does. Saves The Day (3/5) were a band I was more intrigued than excited to see. Like many people, I remember flailing around my bedroom in 2002, straining my voice, singing along to At Your Funeral. But that was it. I knew little of their work since and was interested to see if they could still perform, or were reduced to a dull, bland band, feeding off their own sense of nostalgia. My expectations weren’t exactly confounded, but they hardly surprised me either. They’re still a comfortable band with a solid, fun sound, but their lack of dynamism on stage reflected in the audience’s reaction, really limiting their performance. Razorlight (3/5) are an odd one for me to try and sum up. I had many of their hits inflicted on my ears while sitting in the refectory at college, so I was grudgingly familiar with much of their set before they started playing, but that wasn’t enough to make me raise a smile. I could simpIy say that I found the entire set to be dull as dishwater. Soulless music for people that can’t be bothered to look beyond the charts. But that’s a silly, dismissive response. There’s no doubt that they’re all competent musicians and their sound was as crisp, clear and as ‘together’ as it had been on the radio. But when it came to going further than those four or five radio-friendly hits from the past few years, they fell more than a little flat. Their armoury is badly stocked, but I don’t think this phases their general audience.

Saturday was a far greater draw in terms of crowd size, and it’s unsurprising considering the quality lineup in place. After the traditional pre-gig Nando’s excursion, I found myself in front of the re-named James McLaren stage (a wonderful Welsh music journalist who tragically passed away recently), in the presence of Bastions (3.5/5); a tight little hardcore outfit whose raw energy and unbridled power really stood out amongst their fellow bands. While they weren’t exactly challenging any existing genre constructs or techniques, they were really quite good. Fitting somewhere between Brotherhood of the Lake and the more simplistic side of Polar, I wouldn’t be surprised if they joined TDONs books before the year was out. After a brief break from the stages (with signing sessions galore, it’d be rude not to partake), I soon found myself in the presence of Rise to Remain (3.5/5). Rise to Remain are a damn good, young, interesting metal band that seem to have shot up the ladder of success pretty quickly, but suddenly got stuck on one step and haven’t been able to shift since. With a set varied enough to please any metal fan – rabid or casual – and a charismatic frontman in the form of Austin ‘My dad’s in Iron Maiden, ain’t he’ Dickinson, they certainly had all the ingredients, it was just in the cooking that something didn’t quite fit. Yashin (4/5) however seemed very sure of themselves. Perhaps too sure. Yashin are the archetypal scene frontmen; they are hair and iPhones and suggestions of sex. Their online presence is more centred around hair than music, and soon enough their only receptive audience will be the young girls that pore over their filter-heavy pictures on Instagram. In short, Yashin made me feel old and disconnected. That’s the bad stuff. To their credit though, Yashin make damn good music. Although they’re hardly putting a new slant on the dual vocalist routine, they certainly have the best of the best; all screams are powerful and controlled and all clean singing is well-pitched with a really sweet natural tone. With poppy melodies expertly juxtaposed against grinding basslines, their music dances between fun and anthemic with enviable ease.

Lower Than Atlantis (4.5/5), where to start? I’m biased for a start – LTA are by far one of my favourite bands in the UK at the moment, and their innovative, distinctly British take on melodic hardcore is unrivalled. They’re consistent performers, visibly giving their all in every set, regardless of audience sizes. While frontman Mike Duce is the undisputed figurehead of LTA, when they play live, they perform as a unit, with no one fading into the background or playing second fiddle to a more magazine-friendly face. Despite the great sounds coming from the Watford quartet, the setlist was a little lacking – in phasing out much of their older material, their overall stage time lacked a little depth and weight, but with great new songs such as Normally Strange and Love Somebody Else on the list, they could be partially forgiven. While Lower Than Atlantis had grubby charm by the bucketful, Skindred (5/5) had swagger by the craterful. Every time I see Skindred live, as I leave the venue, I’m so buzzing and over-awed by the whole experience that I always think I must have imagined the extent of their mind-blowing performance. I mean, they couldn’t really be that good? But tonight, as the opening bars of the imperial march rang out once more, Skindred not only tore up the rule book, but burned it, buried it and rewrote it. I defy you to find a band more original than Skindred (seriously, name me another ‘ragga metal’ band) and a frontman more captivatingly charismatic than Benji Webbe. With an expertly chosen setlist that had the audience bouncing as one, dancing as one and Newport Helicopter-ing as one, the rag-tag bunch of Newport gents had Merthyr in the palm of their hand. Mixing crowd favourites such as Warning and Pressure with more groove based tracks as Trouble and Cut Dem. Audience jibes and Beyonce segues aside, Skindred are first and foremost a professional band; they take their music and their influence seriously, not only aiming to preach a gospel of fun and partying, but of unity and tolerance – an aim that lies somewhere north of impressive in these cynical times. Skindred are kings, and it’s only a matter of time until we all bow down.

For me, Sunday was mixed to say the least. With my allergies flaring up like nobody’s business, I missed more bands than I ever wanted to, and with old idols destroying their legacy, I left the site with a far different feeling than previously. Annoyingly, Future of the Left (3/5) was the first band I was able to focus all my attention on, and I hardly had to push my way through a packed tent. FOTL were by far the most ‘wildcard’ booking of the festival; with a far more brash and uncooperative sound than most, they weren’t quite on the same wavelength as many of the young festival goers. Despite this, their quirky and fuzzy-guitared take on alt-rock was a real breath of fresh air, and while songs such as Sheena is a T-Shirt Salesman were hardly going to have you thinking about your relationships and approach to life, they’d certainly get you dancing. Also, there was a lady bassist. A real life woman, stood there, playing bass, in proper clothes, and being fucking talented. More of this please. We Are The Ocean (4/5) have a beautiful sound and heartfelt, weighty lyrics that you often feel that you could touch, and were always given an edge with a dash of screams. With one screamer down and one clean vocalist taking the full blast of the limelight, my excitement at watching WATO was as much influenced by my love of their music as it was sheer fascination as to how they’d cope with a more stripped-down approach. But despite notable absences, WATO triumphed. They were bound to be a tad shaky while everyone adjusts to their new roles (some of the back-up replacement screaming was pitchy at best), but overall their sound was as awe-inspiring as before. With a bit more movement on stage, they’ll be back to their old selves in no time. Canterbury (4/5) are on their way to something huge. They have a sound so strange and minor harmonies so tight that it should make the listener feel uneasy, but on the contrary, those nice young chaps (who love their mums very much) are phenomenal musicians. As soon as they strike into any song, they begin to create something far larger than themselves, something that far more people need to hear. Canterbury are odd, wonderful and deserve every scrap of recognition they get. Back on the mainstage were Deaf Havana (3/5). Oh Deaf, where do we start? Since hearing Meet Me Half Way At Least many moons ago, I was sold on Deaf Havana’s introspective and self-deprecating output and I was never slow to shower them with praise. But as the success of 2011’s Fools and Worthless Liars began to grow, my appreciation and tolerance of their performance and vocal nature on and off stage waned. Don’t get me wrong, the album is a good ‘un. It’s deeply personal, well written and a rightfully successful release. Hell, I went to the release party, I did multiple dates on the tour, I did the lot. But now, Deaf have egos the size of their venues and are convinced (or James is at least) that their newfound recognition means that their only valid release, their only creation with merit is Fools and Worthless Liars. With a set at Merthyr consisting of only two songs that weren’t on FAWL and the declaration that their much loved anthem Friends Like These was ‘fucking shit’, I left feeling dejected and cheated. When you perform half-arsed (Merthyr’s performance was better than most recent festival/support slots) and believe your own hype, both your fanbase and your band will consume itself. I don’t know what to think Deaf, I just don’t know.

Thankfully, the nostalgia-fest that was A (4.5/5) hit the second stage and released me from my Norfolk-based melancholy. Seeing A live was a real milestone for me as Nothing was the first CD single I ever bought and provided the soundtrack to much of my pre-teen greebo angst. Despite not having performed much since 2005 and barely rehearsing at all for their slot, their performances of oldies such as Starbucks, I Love Lake Tahoe and Old Folks were as good and as animated as the day they were released. The floppy hair and naivety of youth may have been absent, but A worked just as well without. Also, seeing original bassist and Radio rock-king Daniel P Carter back in his rightful place leaping about on stage was a joy to behold. Another nice surprise was that briefly scanning the crowd, I was not met with a sea of youthful faces and fresh piercings, but huge groups of those in their mid 20s and 30s, all embracing this hugely self-indulgent wave of nostalgia. To top off what had already been a brilliant set, the inevitable set-closer of Nothing was made that bit more intense, fun and, well, Welsh, with the sudden unexpected presence of The Blackout vocalist Sean Smith. To say the collaboration was anything short of amazing would be a huge understatement. Riding on a high, I headed back over to the main stage to catch the sharply dressed Kids In Glass Houses (3/5). While I fully understand that they’re popular and they have a lot of young, dedicated fans, it didn’t quite hit the mark with me. Sure, they had fun, bouncy, vaguely electro-inspired rock songs made for dancing, but for all their posturing and nice little verses, it never quite built to anything.

With lineups like this, Merthyr will fast become a stalwart of the Welsh music scene and I wish it all the very best of luck. It’s fun, cosy, amazingly cheap and always a cracker. Roll on Merthyr Rock 2013!

Summer Sesh All Day Skatepunk/HC Extravaganza – The Matrix Club, Grimsby, 18/8/12

My beloved hometown Grimsby, despite its impressive levels of knife crime and teenage pregnancy, doesn’t seem to have a lot going for it. Considering our greatest claims to fame include Ian Huntley and the battle scenes from Atonement, it’s safe to say that civilisation often seems to pass us by.

When I was a whippersnapper, the local music scene was positively crackling with excitement and innovation. Thanks to the Cleethorpes Winter Gardens (God rest her soul), local bands were given the chance to perform both at extensive showcases or alongside such established and dare I say it, legendary names as Hanoi Rocks, The Damned and even Marky Ramone. While the Winters met its untimely end at the hands of a wrecking ball, the Grimsby Matrix Club bubbled in the background. Hosting the odd gig here and there and seeing bands such as Bring Me The Horizon and Enter Shikari pass through its doors, the Matrix began to set itself up well. But as the gigs began to lessen in number, I got older and discovered city venues, leaving hometown music as far away as possible.

That was until a brightly coloured gig poster cropped up online and practically tore my eyes from my skull. A £5 all-dayer with great names, cheap booze and a BBQ? I was in.

First to the tiny stage (playing to an even tinier audience) were Ricochet (3/5), a new, local, 90’s-esque post-punk effort who were celebrating their first official gig. Despite their young ages and the unfamiliarity of a new band, they played incredibly well, with the young drummer drawing particular acclaim for his skill. Although they hardly pushed any boundaries, they showed themselves to be a solid group with the potential to create a very impressive sound should they stay together for the long haul. Next up were Hoof (3/5), a hard-to-place alt band combining the gang vocals of Sum 41 with the simplicity and upbeat pace and tone of bands such as The Headstart and NFG. Not fitting comfortably into the punk or hardcore camps, they were nonetheless a very fun support act who did well to bring up the tone and mood of the whole gig. East on Main (3/5) continued on the gang vocal theme, but used it to such a degree that it soon lost its appeal. While their set wasn’t particularly exciting or overly-memorable, their sound was something quite interesting. Imagine the bastard lovechild of Rise Against and Bullet for my Valentine was lightly washed in hardcore, and you’ve just about got it. If they stripped back their layers and rebuilt their sound, they could become something very interesting indeed. LITFO(2/5) and Darko (3/5) proved to have nailed the vocal problem that was prevalent in previous acts; great gang vocals used in bursts, but with enviable control throughout. Strong vocals and great riffs triumphed over the dodgy sound system and left themselves being the first memorable sets of the night. Despite this, there were two major flaws in LITFOs set. Firstly, the vocalist’s efforts at more guttural or screamy tones should really be confined to the practise room; the natural tone wasn’t there and drew away from his other abilities. Secondly, and this was what really tainted their set for me, their ill informed verbal attacks on more successful acts were frankly disgusting and infuriated me beyond belief. Jealously isn’t a pretty trait and malformed speeches with an ‘us against them’ attitude destroyed any lingering enjoyment of their sound. No Contest (2/5) were an odd band to place; with an atonal vocalist and no real direction to their sound, they were far from engaging. Despite this, I did find myself enjoying the basic instrumental parts of their songs. Each musician was certainly competent and sparks of innovation stopped me from wandering off back to the bar. Saying that, much more work is needed before their sound becomes something of real merit.

When Fair Do’s (4/5) came to the stage, my confidence in the evening was waning, but thank the punk lords, they brought a smile back to my face. Blasting out a solid, exciting and fun slab of post-hardcore inspired punk (like a heavier version of Set Your Goals but with less of an agenda), they earned both the attention and respect of the entire venue. With their usual vocalist stranded in some foreign land, guitarist Danny took over vocal duties and performed with such ease that a casual listener would be hard pressed to see why a separate vocalist was necessary. Almeida (4/5) followed suit with a gripping, if odd, set of prog-thrash with a smattering of synths for good measure. With their dynamism and innovation, they reminded me of a young Enter Shikari; a band made of pure energy, just waiting for a stage big enough to contain them. The Departed (3.5/5) brought the evening back down to a more familiar genre. Performing a very animated brand of melodic hardcore (similar to that of Comeback Kid) they showed themselves to be a powerful force that could really take off should they manage to get themselves a higher profile support tour with a TDON darling. Headliners and Lockjaw stalwarts The Fear (4.5/5) easily stole the evening with an incredibly engaging, impressive and professional set. Combining the power and raw passion of hardcore with a palpable upbeat energy, their very personal sound was so absorbing that I began hoping the night would be a few hours longer. Somewhere between and old Deaf Havana and MXPX, their moment of glory is no doubt just around the corner.