by Brandon van der Berg @vdb.brandon
The night of the 15th was an anarchical wonderment of shock-fest horror, thrash/punk and fantastical performers, each stitching and clawing their way through sets of bombastic chaos with an acrimonious loyalty to their refined sounds.
Read Below.
Approach With Caution
Teary pitch-black eye makeup, cargo pants, military boots and intense vocal fry make for an apocolypto’esque army Batman’s angsty younger brother. The rumbling subs from the bassist carry a concussed doom that makes it feel like you’ve just taken a smack to the side of the head from an atypically strong edge lord and the drummer carries the stage presence like an honourable weight as he moans sufferingly, or screams in that IDLES’y way over pumping great big drums.
Singer “I’d just like to give a shoutout to my bassist”
A short pause
Bassist “Thank you…”
The way the Bassist faces up and lowers his body down to headbang whilst looking at the singer is similar to a heavy metal chicken, which I haven’t seen before and will now call this “Cluck Chugging” going forward.
I am very fond of the weary painfulness attached to the drummer's vocals at times, like someone is screaming for help from the end of a long tiled hallway, it’s quite unsettling and engaging.
Although they, to the surprise of the audience, only played for only 15 minutes of a 45-minute slot, leaving a glaring half-hour gap before the next act which I think left people wandering about aimlessly for a while.
For Fans Of Suicidal Tendencies and Flamethrower.
Animal Shithouse
“HOW WE DOING BRISTOL? IT’S OUR FIRST TIME IN THIS CITY AND WE’VE COME TO BLOW YOUR F*CKING MINDS.”
They did.
“THIS IS OUR FIRST SONG ‘I LOST MY MANDY IN A SAINSBURY’S CAR PARK”
What a bloody way to introduce your set, seriously off the bat I commend this act for being so full-on and in-depth with their performance from the second they stepped on stage and it visibly hooked everyone in immediately.
None of that initial awkward silence b*llocks.
“This next song is called ‘Redstripe’ and it’s about PUNCHING PENSIONERS AND DRINKING! PREMIUM! LAGERS!”
The frontman is a very intense performer, shaking his vision from the floor to the crowd like a Saharan predator spotting a prey item, screaming in a blood-curdling way which I came to realise upon spotting through the tall crowd was because he was hanging himself from his XLR cable and giving a heart-wrenchingly upsetting soliloquy about suicide backed by tearing harmonics which boot kicked all of the happy out of everyone for a good 5-10 minutes after.
Regardless they still lost their minds but oh my god that was sad.
“This song is about being at Heathrow Airport with a suitcase filled with acid. When I smuggled that suitcase across Heathrow Airport, I learned what fear was.”
The Guitarist switched to bass and tensed his body and throttled his instrument whilst squaring off every limb like a human triangle, thrusting up and down, swelling in and out, looking, in the best way, unnatural and inhuman.
The tight pauses and Jazz-like ride-tapping reek of competent musicians and the songwriting is authentic, captivating and moving.
A set that felt like having a really good cry and then an even better heart attack.
*Lets a willing audience member sniff his armpit as an offered incentive to come closer*
For Fans Of, Napalm Death and SNAYX.
Family Portrait
A five-piece who stack themselves in order of height and magnitude.
The bassist, stage left, is like a man with his hands glued to a stick trying to fight off a swarm of hornets, kicking, throwing, shaking and powering through the air with momentum like each limb is a pendulum of erratic anger. The frontman, stage centre forward, stoically stacks himself into the microphone, leaning and pulsing off of it sincerely and with a romantic gusto.
The drummer, stage centre back, holds incredible fast blast beats, throwing their hair and face into each hit anchoring their arms in and slamming through with an attentive rage which made the frontman stop singing, step back and out of the way to hold his hand out in a presented spectacle of awe.
The two guitarists gently pushing themselves around creates a dynamic pallet cleanser letting the stage feel weighted and fluid but still holding individuality. The lead guitarist, stage centre right, cackles menacingly and squeals with glee over an arrangement so feral and offensive it uneases you and the rhythm guitarist, stage right, stands and rocks with a focused drive to keep a consistent and directionally sound performance.
There is something so obscure and different about watching this band that’s hard to pinpoint. The different heights, the drastically differing performance styles and attitudes, the existential passion and emotional clarity that is delivered in such an overwhelmingly present and incurably weird way like ‘The Adams Family’s’ long lost musical set just found out who Turnstile are.
It all tosses itself together to make something fun and intense.
Find them on Instagram
For Fans Of Turnstile, Every Time I Die and Reuben.
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