Rock ‘n’ roll is all about making things happen, about excitement, about energy. Rock ‘n’ roll should be provocative, intense, dangerous and sexy. Arrows of Love, then, are the epitome of rock ‘n’ roll. I’d expected to witness an evening of exhilarating, balls-out grunge rock. I never expected to find myself with a guitar round my neck amidst a tangle of trailing cables and guitar stands.
How did it happen? Rewind a bit: Suzi Blu and Team Modeliste had played solid sets to get things warmed up. The former hark back to the post-punk era, evoking Siouxsie and the Banshees, Skeletal Family and The March Violets with their drum-machine driven sound. The latter were tight and nonchalantly kicked out a blues rock groove. I couldn’t knock the trio’s proficiency, but they did rather overstay their welcome, with a rather samey sound and a tendency to stray info funk-lite Maroon 5 territory.
Still, any support was going to be not so much blown away as totally obliterated by the force of Arrows of Love. Words like ‘visceral’ and ‘cathartic’ are staples of music journos, and often it’s mere hyperbole. But where Arrows of Love are concerned, they’re totally apt. They tear through ‘Honey’ by way of a set opener. Bassist Nuha has soon worked up a sweat and is throwing herself around in front of the low stage.
As they blast through an incendiary rendition of ‘Prescriptions’ and a driving ‘Song One’, there’s a sense that anything could happen. Lyndsey’s off with her shirt and there are more band members in the crowd than on stage. It’s perhaps not surprising the front row’s a good way back, and in braving proximity for some action shots I risked long-term damage to my hearing and suffered a guitar headstock to the cranium.
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Cables, mic stands and pedals spilling off the stage and are everywhere. New third guitarist Rufus Miller brings an element of calm to proceedings as well as adding extra dimensions to the band’s jagged sound while drummer Mike pounds away like a man possessed and Nima channels 50 shades of angst with guitar and voice.
Current single ‘The Knife’ provides a brief respite before exploding into its gut-wrenching climax. ‘Conspiracy Podcast’ is a real highlight, and they conclude with a rabid rendition of ‘Illusionist’, which sees everything turned on its head and Nima handing me his guitar as he departs the stage. It’s carnage, it’s mayhem, it’s beautiful chaos.
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