Robyn Writes

Kerrang: Fuelled By Relentless (Skindred, Yashin, Feed The Rhino, With One Last Breath) – The Garage London, 5/6/12

As the Kerrang Awards loom, a loosely linked ‘tour’ with varying qualities of headliners can always be anticipated – 2012 was no different. The first of this short string of gigs was held on a freezing cold, very rainy Jubilee weekend, an hour and a quarter after it was supposed to start. Christ, even Queenie had to be having a better time than this.

Firstly, music aside, we were at the ‘Fuelled by Relentless’ tour, held at the ‘Relentless Garage’…

‘Can I have a Relentless?’

‘Nope, we don’t have any.’

‘What energy drinks do you have?’

‘None. Not Even Coffee. We hate Caffeine. Dirty Dirty Evil Caffeine,’ ( I may have paraphrased).

‘In that case, fine sir, can I have a thimble-full of lemonade?’

‘Yes, yes you can. That’ll be fifty quid.’

True story bro.

The tragedy of caffeine absence aside, myself and my drowned companion eventually made our way through the crowds, rung out our sodden coats and set up camp near the overpriced, understocked bar.

First up were With One Last Breath (3.5/5), a pleasant Asking Alexandria-style outfit, fresh from a triumphant support slot on Of Mice and Men’s most recent tour. Now, I rather enjoy this relatively new genre – the smattering of synths, the inevitable clean nasal-y vocals, some chunky riffs and just enough shouting to piss of your mum, but not enough as to scare off the teenagers. And, on the whole, the boys did good. With some catchy hooks and near pitch-perfect clean vocals, WOLB managed to create an atmosphere that almost crackled with energy. Yet while I enjoyed the majority of their set, sometimes their riffs dwindled and fell into mediocrity. But hey, not every song can be a cracker, right? Despite this, with such a fast-growing young following, they’ll no doubt be heading towards large tours of their own.

To say Feed the Rhino (3.5/5) were the wildcard booking of the night would be a massive understatement. This was hardcore, bearded, angry and ready to flatten you; a musical shovel to the face. The Kent five-piece delivered a blistering slab of aggression to an enthralled and increasingly bruised crowd – the first mini wall of death of the evening was nothing short of a joy to behold. A tip of the cap to all involved. Throughout their set, old material from ‘Mr Red Eye’ blended seamlessly with new tracks from the upcoming ‘The Burning Sons’, cementing FTR’s place as British hardcore stalwarts. While I can’t say they’ll have many crossover fans from the WOLB and Yashin camps, it’s safe to say they definitely won over a chunk of the audience who were otherwise unfamiliar with the genre.

Yashin (4/5) are going places. They have the songs, the musicianship, the showmanship, and most importantly, the hair, to become Kerrang’s new darlings. Firstly, I’d classify myself as a Yashin fan; I’ve seen them multiple times, have the CD, the t-shirt and the overriding sense of age that comes with attending one of their shows (At such gigs, as soon as you pass 18, you’re automatically demoted to drinking at the back of the room with the dads.), and their set was good. Not brilliant, but good. Yashin have damn good songs – catchy, often anthemic, and a lot of fun to listen to. They’re arguably masters of the clean/scream dual vocal approach and have a very tight, practised stage presence. Despite this, they seemed to fall a little flat on the night; clean vocalist Harry Radford seemed to be slow getting on his game, and their choice to play predominantly new, unfamiliar material may not have been the best. While down the front, they had their obligatory die-hard screaming fans, at the back, those of us who fancied a nice drink and a dance were forced to endure the overly-vocal musings of a decidedly anti-Yashin herd of elephants. You’re facing forty, pissed and hungry. We get it. Now shush. Despite their valuable input, the set was incredibly enjoyable – vocalist Kevin Miles unfurled a vocal versatility that just about blasted everyone else’s efforts out of the water; the screams had a great natural tone, and the growls were deep and clear enough to wake Cthulhu from his watery home. The new material, despite a muted reception, sounded catchy as hell, and like so many others, I’m more than keen to hear their upcoming offering ‘We Created a Monster’.

Skindred (5/5). Where to start? I’ve been to hundreds of gigs, seen countless bands, endless musicians and enough gimmicks to finish off Eurovision, but never, ever have I seen a band that consistently delivers like Skindred. Being charismatic, animated and distinctive is one thing, and being note-perfect and skilled is another, but somehow, by some cosmic interference, Skindred were created to embody all such traits. Benji Webbe’s showmanship is almost as notorious as their genre-destroying sound; Ragga-Metal…Punk…stuff. Whatever it is, it works; it’s a sound so distinctive and personal to the Welsh outfit, that to hear anyone else try to imitate it would feel alien at the very least. The set thrown at the Garage was a well-considered mix of old and new- starting with the veritable aural assault of ‘Roots Rock Riot’, and finishing with crowd-favourite ‘Warning’ (where the patented ‘Newport Helicopter’ was out in force). Anthemic tracks such as ‘Trouble’, ‘Nobody’ and ‘Stand for Something’ were delivered with all the ease of seasoned professionals, yet performed with all the passion and intensity of a Rottweiler on crack. As ever, Skindred’s set was intermingled with a plethora of samples and mismatched outros – from recordings of the Imperial March and Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies’, to brief performances of AC/DC’s ‘Back in Black’ and their own ‘Rudeboy for Life’ (a hugely underrated song that should really grace more setlists). Samples and snippets aside, it is Webbe’s stage presence and empowering speeches that really wrap up the live Skindred experience; through collective gestures and shirt-swinging, the crowd move as one, but through his speech, we all feel as one. His impassioned sentiments of ‘liking what you like, and fuck everyone else’ ring true through the generations and result in a palpable sense of unity and togetherness. Quite often, Webbe takes digs at the audience, layers on sarcasm like concrete, or uses high levels of self deprecation to get laughs from the audience – yet tonight his tack was different. It was positivity from start to finish; no mid-way pauses, no insults and no slurs. To leave this Skindred gig as anything other than sweaty and happy, was nothing short of impossible.

Artist Spotlight: Held By Horses

I heard a rumour a while back that summer would soon be upon us. Considering I’m sat writing this while hail stones assault my windows, I won’t hold my breath. But, should the seasons ever change and the sun grace us with his burny presence, I think I’ve found the chilled soundtrack to your summer. ‘Held By Horses’ are a young four piece from the depths of Essex who, despite the hardcore connotations that all ‘by horses’ bands seem to hold, play delightfully catchy soft-rock tunes.

Looking at them, you’d be surprised they were old enough to play in any venues but, as is the case more and more nowadays, their youth gives them edge. Their sound is fresh, sincere and uncomplicated. Too many bands in similar genres try and set themselves apart by stretching their talents far beyond their capabilities, yet Held By Horses know what works for them and stick to it. By no means is their sound uninspiring or samey, but solid.

Refreshingly, for a female-fronted band, their singer does not try and sound like Hayley Williams. This fact on its own surely merits a listen? I’ve lost count of the number of shows I’ve gone to where there’s a tiny redhead on stage forcing unnatural tones through her face, trying painfully to replace her Dagenham accent with a Tennessee one. No. Tiny vocalist Harriet Reynolds has a wonderfully individual, quirky tone to her voice (rather akin to that of Ellie Goulding) which is allowed to take centre stage without being overpowered by heavy basslines or distracting riffs. While Reynolds is understandably the main focus or selling point of the band, it couldn’t be so without the solid backing of the rest of the band who, despite not attempting any particularly complicated passages, are all compelling and accomplished musicians and performers.

With a new EP (‘In History’) due soon, they’re definitely a band you’ll want to get your teeth into. Until then, why not head on over to their Facebook page: www.facebook.com/heldbyhorses and have a listen to the few tracks they have available for streaming. ‘Who We Are’ is a particularly catchy offering with a particularly sweet, summery riff and a chorus that can’t help but get you swaying. As far as lyrics go, there’s a few clichés thrown around, but overall, they’re bloody good. Who We Are is also accompanied with a video, should you wish to go snooping. Nicely filmed with a running University-themed storyline, but the obligatory ‘band in a forest’ shots are a little too sedate to make the necessary impact the track requires. ‘Give You The World’ is my particular favourite; it’s upbeat, peppy, and works as a great showcase of Reynolds’ beautiful tones. While I urge you to listen to all tracks on offer, their cover of J-J-J-Jessie J’s ‘Do It Like A Dude’ is an odd one, but well worth your time. It baffles and entertains be in equal measure. One can’t help but think that a tempo change would make it fit in far better with their repertoire, but nevertheless, give it a go – it’s an interesting take.

Held By Horses may not be breaking down any barriers in terms of re-inventing the genre, but what they do create is not only music, but an entire atmosphere that one can’t help but be absorbed into. I wouldn’t be too surprised to see them high up on festival billings in no time at all.

We Are Fiction – The Vault Rugby, 13/4/12

The Vault in Rugby is the kind of venue that every town needs; a well-stocked bar, snazzy decor and a liberal attitude to young gig goers (Seriously, a ‘12+’ show, I forgot they existed). The whole venue had a familiar, local feel about it while still remaining welcoming to out-of-towners such as myself. While such a comment may seem trivial and unimportant, believe me, I’ve been to enough back-water ‘local’ gigs to know what ‘unwelcome’ and ‘suspicion’ mean. And at three quid for entry, the evening might well have been the best value these kids will see for a long time.

Up first were bright, shouty young upstarts ‘Stop Fontaine’. While I thought being familiar with their previous work in ‘Lavondyss’ would give me a good idea of what to expect, I couldn’t be more wrong. With one guitarist down and the proclamation that tonight’s performance was only their second gig as a band, they blew all expectations out of the water and punched a metaphorical hole through the roof. Appearances can be deceiving, and I certainly didn’t expect to see a wirey ‘what-a-nice-haircut-I-bet-your-mother’s-proud’ vocalist throw himself across the stage with all the self control of Brian Harvey at a potato harvest. Neither did I expect his screams to be so powerful and vitriolic that they held my attention even through the inevitable teenage gang-bang that was happening on the sofas to my left. With riffs so meaty they’d make a vegetarian cry and a drummer so solid you’d fear he’d fall through the floor, they certainly made a lasting impression on all who saw them. With a quirky stage presence and palpable energy to their performance, they’re definitely one to watch.

The main support for the We Are Fiction tour, and next on The Vault’s mini-stage were Woking’s finest ‘Palm Reader’.  From start to finish, Palm Reader throw out a full-on hardcore assault; heavy and frenzied enough to tear your face clean off, but so mesmerising that you can’t help but get involved. More and more hardcore bands these days are leaving all physical exertion to the vocalist, and all other musicians tend to take a back-seat; slumping or crouching with their instruments, purposefully ignoring the presence of an audience. Thankfully, Palm Reader are the absolute antithesis of such a setup. With more energy than a toddler after a pint of Ribena and less spacial awareness than a fat lass in a lift (I was lucky enough to get to a few gigs on this tour, and the chances of a face to guitar-neck union were frighteningly high throughout), their stage presence is hard to rival. They’re heavy, they’re passionate and they’re a little bit mad. If you have any interest in punk, or even if you have any sense at all, I implore you to get online or get to a show and pick up their EP.

They say it’s always incredibly hard to review one of your favourite bands, as all objectivity is automatically removed, but sod it. We Are Fiction are a phenomenal live act, and you should get your arse in gear and head down to a show as fast as your tiny legs can carry you. The Peterborough five-piece have been destroying venues since 2009 and just about tore Rugby a new one. With a solid set of old EP material, painfully catchy new songs and inevitable crowd pleasers, WAF did nothing more than blow everyone away. Peddling their brand of catchy Alexisonfire-inspired/post-hardcore, they’re the sort of band that are impossible not to like. Their musicianship is enviable, their lyrics were made to adorn a thousand script tattoos and they take their music seriously. While they’re quickly becoming synonymous with heavy partying and Asda’s finest ‘Mansion House’,(It’s a …beverage that’s somewhere between sherry and despair, and the WAF lads seem to thrive on the stuff!), they carefully craft their music into something important and memorable. They don’t drown in sentimentality and they don’t crush their brains under the weight of too many breakdowns. Through their entire set, the venue was set alive with energy- whether through clumsy mosh-pits, sweaty screams, or flying bassists (followed by a falling and then painfully sprawling bassists), WAF’s short set could easily feel like your own little Woodstock. Their entire set was incredibly well-structured; with new material such as ‘Mansion House’ and ‘Earth Medicine’ sitting well against older more aggressive works as ‘Bitch’(my personal favourite) and ‘Desire Lines’, there was something for old fans and new alike. As ever, the set culminated in crowd-favourite ‘Sail On’, where vocalist Phil was found throwing himself into the crowd (which judging from the age-range, might have got him put on some sort of register), quite comfortably giving everyone present a masterclass in frontmanship.

Watching We Are Fiction is like watching the creation of a beautiful monster, and its only a matter of time until these venues are too small to contain it. With a new album due out this year (although their eta’s have been liberal at best!), We Are Fiction are becoming one of the brightest lights in the UK music scene. Go see them before they go stratospheric.

Merthyr Rock/Hit The Deck – apparently better than Reading Festival

I may just be digging my own grave around here, but I’m not a fan of huge festivals. I’m all for the live music, overpriced chips, getting a bit tiddly in a field with my mates, but trying to sleep in a tiny rustling pod next to a tent full of rutting scene kids just isn’t my style. I like cut price chain hotels, kettles and tiny sachets of coffee. And to that end, mini day-festivals are fast becoming my favourite summer past time. In 2011 the gods made it so that the UK was gifted with a veritable plethora of day festivals. Thank you benevolent unseen beings, thank you.

Although I couldn’t get to half as many as I wanted, two particular tiny festivals made such an impact on my well-rested and showered self, that I feel compelled to share their merits with the world. They’re also both running again in 2012 with equally as good line-ups, so why not book a nearby hotel room and get your party on!

 

Merthyr Rock

As the summer draws to an end and the UK’s largest festivals have come and gone, leaving a wave of blurry photographs and fabric wristbands in their wake, outdoor music tends to go into hibernation until the next year. While those attending Download, Sonisphere and their indie brothers plough money into huge week-long camping excursions, those left behind either through money or travel constraints are left with a certain bitter taste in their mouth. And that is when Merthy Rock comes into play. For little over twenty quid, you had the opportunity to spend a wet September day in a tent in a Welsh field… wait. Okay, perhaps it’s not the most glamorous location in the world, but the lineup soon silences any disparaging comments. While the small, tent-free outdoor stage ultimately suffered at the hands of the Merthyr weather, the main tent provided an exhaustingly wonderful string of bands, none of who could be said to have given a half-arsed performance. With signing sessions throughout the day and burger vans that didn’t require you to sell a kidney in order to afford a tray of wilted chips, it’s a small festival that really deserves to pick up momentum and continue for many years to come. While 2011 was a two-day festival, with sets from Ocean Colour Scene and Goldie Lookin’ Chain on the 3rd, understandably more attention was showered on the day of the 4th where home-grown heroes The Blackout were headlining. Before the Welsh wonders took to the stage, we were treated to solid, quality performances by the likes of My Passion, Young Guns and Skindred to name a few. While all other bands were well and good, The Blackout stole the show with one of the most powerful and emotionally-charged performances I’ve ever seen. Definitely a ‘Woodstock Moment’ for all waves of Blackout fans.

 

Hit The Deck

Hit The Deck, hosted in Nottingham’s veritable rabbit-warren of a venue, Rock City, was a particular musical highlight of 2011. A one-day, cripplingly wonderful ‘alternative’ spectacular spread over three smaller venues, Hit The Deck proved its worth in booking some of the hottest new bands on the UK scene and secured its future success. While hosted in a run of the mill, rather unremarkable venue, Hit the Deck festival managed to comfortably secure its own identity and enthusiastic following. Rather surprisingly, on the whole, it was an incredibly well organised set up with clean rotation on the merch tables, smooth switch-overs between bands, good scheduling and an expert grouping of genres. With mini competitions for small unsigned bands to play opening slots, it also felt very inclusive, accessible and an achievable aspiration for future young groups. Personally, my highlights of 2011 included a beautiful little surprise set from rising stars, We Are Fiction, a performance by Young Guns which proved so compelling that the venue had to operate a ‘one in-one out’ policy and a triumphant show by Deaf Havana who continued to prove that they didn’t need a screamer to tear the roof off the building. With yet another promising lineup in 2012 (Including Kids in Glass Houses and Yashin), you’d be a fool to miss out.

So go on, part with your cash and get adding to that wristband collection!

Lower Than Atlantis – O2 Academy Birmingham 3 [22/1/12]

Every so often, a band comes along that makes all others seem like they should up their game. Judging by Lower Than Atlantis’ performance at the Birmingham O2 Academy, such a statement couldn’t be more applicable. Riding high on the news that they’d just sold out their first ever headline tour, the Watford four-piece delivered such a solid slab of rock-based energy, that I’m surprised the venue didn’t crash down around them.

Supporting LTA on their January tour were Marines and Sights and Sounds, both of who made a significant impact on their waiting audience. While Marines had the unenviable task of playing first (in a venue where the lighting technician seemed to be having a prolonged nap), they soon grabbed the audiences’ attention and heads were nodding in no time. Hailing from Suffolk, this Smiths-esque indie-rock outfit played a solid set of mixed tempo material that just begged for repeated-listening. While each member proved themselves to be accomplished musicians, it was vocalist Tim Hyland who stole most of my attention. Possessing a deliciously gravelly tone to his voice, Hyland was able to completely change the entire mood of a song with only a slightest of alterations in the tone or dynamics of his vocal performance. Overall, I found their set to be extremely enjoyable and rather charming, if I dare say such a word. While there proved to be a few issues with vocal pitching in places, they were soon rectified and no doubt, once some professional recordings are laid down, these small blips will be all but eliminated. Definitely a band to keep an eye on.

Canada’s ‘Sights & Sounds’ were next on the bill and quite simply blew me away. More of a showcase of musical triumph than a bog-standard support slot, one could have thought that they were to headline the evening. Providing a vocal dynamism that’d make any ‘alternative’ singer green with envy, Sights & Sounds acted as a defibrillator to a dead crowd. While they were by far the oldest performers of the evening, the Canadian quartet created atmospheres that even Lord of the Rings couldn’t replicate (for we all know, LOTR films are the atmospheric litmus test of the modern world), which they swiftly tore apart and drilled into the stage around them. Their set was heavy, delicate, fantastically layered, powerful and when necessary, simplistic and animalistic. Their sonic assault effectively grabs you by the throat from the off and is unrelenting in its barrage until the very last note. While comparisons can be drawn with groups such as Your Demise and Comeback Kid (some members of CK play in Sights & Sounds, so a comparison is rather futile in that respect), Sights & Sounds very much have an identity of their own. With an album (2009’s ‘Monolith’) readily available on the web, you’d be a fool not to own a piece of it.

While Sights & Sounds left me with my jaw on the floor, it was swiftly kicked up and crushed by the destructive force of Lower Than Atlantis’ mosh pit, which started up with impressive brutality from the very first bar of ‘If The World Was To End’. Lower Than Atlantis fans, regardless if they came in at the shoutier-than-thou, Bretton-era, Far-Q or World Record, were not to be disappointed. Armed with a well-structured set that covered all previous musical guises, they expertly blasted out recording-quality performances- covering both rabble-rousing crowd-favourites (‘I’m not Bulimic’/ ‘Beech like the Tree’) and more sentimental, slower paced album tracks (‘Another Sad Song’). Throughout the evening they showed themselves to be not only capable of championing any genre, but also professional (in every sense of the word) musicians and songwriters. While many of LTA’s lyrics are little underwhelming, their song writing talents are second to none- an enviable trait that’ll no doubt continue to shine in their already sky-rocketing career. In a very unexpected turn of events, vocalist and Twitter-grump Mike Duce paused mid-song to challenge one lucky (or unlucky, it depends on how you see it) audience member to ‘down a beer’ in under five seconds. While the young lad in question seemed to fail slightly in his endeavour, the whole stunt worked rather beautifully in stirring up an inclusive, fun, party-atmosphere; an atmosphere that lingered until the final notes of ‘Deadliest Catch’ rung out over a sweaty, breathless, battered and bruised audience. With LTA poised to release their fourth album in the coming year, one can’t help but feel that their days of playing small venues will be far behind them the second that CD hits the shelves. Lower Than Atlantis are original, accessible and damn hard working, and through that, they deserve every success in the world.