Author: Crossfire

Engine Rooms, Brighton
15/03/2008

It’s early doors on Saturday night at The Engine Rooms, and I arrive just as Brighton’s own Constant State of Terror are plugging in and preparing to unleash a salvo of hard ‘n fast Hardcore Punk that draws its influence primarily from the Mid-Eighties UK Crust scene (read: Sacrilege, Amebix, Anti-Sect) and the explosive aggression of early Poison Idea.

It’s potent shit these guys peddle, and frontman Jules (formerly of Substandard) has a ferocious set of gravel gargling nicotine stained pipes. Good start to the evening. Then a bunch called Insane Society (from nearby Seaford) set up and do their thing. Which is, to these ears, totally redundant and ropey music that is stuck in a glue bag somewhere back in ’82. I retreat to an as-much-out-of-earshot recess to escape their dumb banter and lacklustre racket.

Next competitor…. H8BALL from Eastbourne… these guys have been in existence for some years now, and have had numerous line-up changes, with just the nucleus of bassist Steve and drummer Tezz in place from the old days. Tezz incidentally is definitely a veteran of the local scene, with a track record that goes all the way back to UK ’82 Punks Criminal Damage (from Polegate) and notorious Thrash Metal bruisers Virus. He also served time in Brighton’s MTA along with H8BALL bassist Steve, and CSOT guitarists Peter ‘n Neal… (who were roadies for Virus) jeez, this is all getting more incestuous than an episode of Amish Wife Swap. So yeah, this is H8BALL’s most solid line-up yet, and they’ve got plenty of gigging under their studded belts, which is evident in the slick delivery of their Social D inspired PunknRoll, with big choruses and loud cranking guitars. They’ve build up a decent following along the way too and there’s much action stage front during their set.

So, to close… Discharge. Last time the rejuvenated ‘legends‘ from Stoke played in Brighton they numbered 3 original members, but tonight only guitarist Bones remains. Apparently bassist Rainy is too ill to play on these dates, so his place is taken by former Conflict and Broken Bones man Oddy who proves to be a mighty able replacement. Upfront these days is Varukers singer Rat, who in many ways is like the guy that stepped up from a ‘Priest tribute band and joined his idols/mentors… and must be hoping Calv doesn’t do a Rob Halford (if you will) Funnily enough, although Rat looks nothing like original Discharge singer Calv, he does seem to have adopted some of his stage moves.

Thankfully Rat assures up there will be none of that “Grave New World” malarkey. Thank gawd for that! They kick in with “Never Again” and tear through 45minutes of battering ram Hardcore, and a sound that effectively defined a genre (D-Beat) – in my book some of these songs are legitimate classics… “Protest and Survive” “State Violence/State Control” “Ain’t No Feeble Bastard” and the closing metallic K.O take on “Decontrol” is outstanding. About 27 years ago I remember waiting for my mum and dad in a car park 20minutes walk from tonight’s gig, in my hands a freshly purchased copy of “Decontrol” – my first Discharge record – it looked fuckin’ crazy. And I couldn’t wait to get home and play it. This is important music to me. And tonight the guys on stage gave an authentic representation of said killer music.

Pete Craven

100 Club, London
05/03/08

Tonight, there is little in the way of hysteria on display as we enter the 100 Club. Various band members are wandering around, chatting with the early arrivals, or just helping to set up the merch stand.

Coupled with the intimacy of the venue, it’s a reminder of what Gallows themselves would probably be reluctant to call ‘the good old days’. The fact that they spent most of those early days in an almost constant state of near-collapse was well documented on the original release of their ‘Orchestra Of Wolves‘ album; so you’d forgive Frank Carter and co if they didn’t want to re-tread old boards after the success of their recent UK tour (including a sold-out show at the Astoria).

But in hardcore circles, topping the NME’s Cool List doesn’t count for much if you can no longer deliver the kind of performance for which you’re renowned. Kudos, then to Gallows, for attempting to silence the doubters no less than four times over in this most historic of clubs.

“It stands for Simply Soft Skin!” growls SSS vocalist Foxy, with regard to his band’s name. Super-Scary Scousers, more like. The Liverpool thrash crew may match their kindred spirits (and labelmates) Municipal Waste in terms of sheer unbridled energy, but make no mistake: this ain’t no party thrash. As Foxy prowls the venue’s floor, spitting the lyrics of ‘Damaged Goods‘ into the face of anyone who dares look even slightly bored, it’s evident that SSS are offering up something darker, more aggressive, and more goddamn British than most of their peers. Yep, this is thrash with a bad attitude – and it sounds fucking vital.

Another of Gallows’ former tour-buddies, Set Your Goals, are also in the house, and they delight the increasingly packed masses with an impromptu two-song performance. The rabid crowd enthusiasm of their own gigs may be lacking, but their signature anthem ‘Mutiny’ still sounds impressively huge tonight.

There are a fair few gawpers assembled for the headliners. You know, the kind of folks who don’t really get involved in the gig, and instead just stand on the periphery of the crowd, looking half-curious, half-confused. Each to their own, and all that, but as said crowd goes utterly apeshit to Gallows’ opening salvo of ‘Abandon Ship‘, ‘Come Friendly Bombs‘ and ‘Kill The Rhythm‘, it’s clear that you have get in close to truly feel the impact (literal and metaphorical) of the Watford Five.

You see, the biggest thrill of tonight comes from witnessing Gallows rip through their set with all the unrestrained, visceral glory of old. The elements of danger and unpredictability – so often quelled by a crowd barrier – are back with a vengeance; with Frank balancing precariously on a monitor to howl the lyrics of ‘Will Someone Shoot That Fucking Snake‘ right into the faces of the front rows. Throughout every song, both band and crowd thrive on the intimacy, and by the time ‘Orchestra Of Wolves‘ brings the night to a teeth-rattling finish, Frank can’t help but smile as the microphones are swallowed up by the huge mass of flailing limbs beneath him.

The wolves may be better fed and cared for these days, but don’t be fooled into thinking that they’ve been tamed. Major label or not, they can still easily tear you apart at close quarters – and for that, you should be grateful.

Alex Gosman