Have you ever thought that rock music has become a bit too conventional, predictable? The same format of guys on a stage, thumping skins, blasting powerchords and singing / shouting, playing songs for half an hour or whatever... you turn up, you know what you’re going to get. You get it and clap appreciatively and go home happy. But whatever happened to rock music as something wild, dangerous and unpredictable?
The only thing predictable about tonight’s lineup was carnage. I’d planned to take the night off reviewing music in order to revel in the chaos as a paying punter. But some gigs need to be shouted about.
Manscreams do exactly what their name suggests. An unusual configuration for a power trio, consisting of guitar / vocals, drums and vocals, there are hints of Rollins era Black Flag about their primal racket. They’re not especially tight, but they are fantastic fun.
On any other night, Zoax would have stood out a mile as a blisteringly intense live act. Because that’s exactly what they are. Taking the metalcore template in myriad unconventional directions, they incorporate elements of post-rock and even soul: they’re as adept as swinging a mellow groove as hammering out ball-busting riffs, and front man Adam Carroll is incredibly charismatic. With a big grin and a strong Irish brogue, he engages in some good-natured banter – and remarks that the venue is like someone’s living room, and that the gig is like a house party (‘a fucking great house party’ of course) – in between delivering bursts of the most angry, screaming metal going. He’s great to watch, too: one minute he’s behind the bar pulling himself a pint, the next he’s halfway to the car park and screaming at the crowd through the window. Unpredictable, exciting, the band behind him are meticulous and sound fantastic. Oh yeah, and they’re loud.
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And then there’s Baby Godzilla. Baby Godzilla have come along way from when I first caught them pedalling post-hardcore blues. What happened? An epic binge of adrenochrome, by the looks of things. They treat the stage as somewhere to put the drum kit. There were probably some songs in there, amidst the wild frenzied guitar assaults and screamed vocals, but like the most of the rest of the audience, I was too busy trying to preserve my safety. These guys should come with some kind of health warning.
Having caught them playing three times previously, it seems they get wilder and more intense with every outing. I thought I was prepared, but.... Within seconds of striking the first chord, the two guitar-playing vocalists race into the crowd, and they’re all over the venue: tables and stools are dragged around the room, towers are constructed and they ascend them, playing demonic noise while stooped beneath the ceiling. Amps and mic stands are strewn around the room, there’s a guitarist playing on the bar, there are tables, chairs and bodies flying everywhere. Not so much a gig as a riot with guitars, live shows don’t come more exhilarating than this.
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