Live Review: Download Festival 2019 (Pt.1 - Friday)

I arrived at Donington on the Thursday of Download Festival 2019 to find a swamp populated by shitfaced metalheads, and it felt like home. After a day which involved pitching my tent, getting drunk watching An American Werewolf In London, and catching Ed Gamble’s great set in the comedy tent, Friday saw the start of a weekend of (mostly) incredible music… and lots and lots more cider.

The first band of the day, Pengshui (7/10) kick off proceedings, and they put on an impressively energised show for such an early slot. I’d not heard their music before and checked out the London rap-rock trio based on some positive reviews I’d heard of their live show, and so I was generally pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed them. With a three-piece dynamic which suits them well, they’re a perfect “hype” band in that each song offers up big riffs, a head-nodding rhythm, and catchy bars. It’s true that some of their tracks are stronger than others, and at their weakest they do come across as a poor man’s Astroid Boys, but the sheer amount of energy each member puts into their performance is more than enough to carry them through their allocated 25 minutes.

The second band of the day, for me, are Skid Row (5.5/10). The 80s glam-metal relics are unsurprisingly well past their prime at this point, but their midday set on the Zippo Encore stage sees a fairly decent crowd response. The band spend half an hour going through their back-catalogue and pulling out the big-hitters, From ’18 and Life’ to ‘Youth Gone Wild’, and the musicianship is serviceable enough. The primary source of entertainment, though, comes from the rambling of frontman ZP Theart. The ex-Dragonforce singer (and fifth vocalist in the history of Skid Row) doesn’t seem all that "with it" for the majority of the set; at one point, he remarks at how lucky they are to not see a single drop of rain during their time on stage… and receives a muted response from the crowd, who are currently getting soaked. Either way, for diehard fans, I’m sure it’s all a pretty fun nostalgia trip, but to me, Skid Row fail to make an impression.

The next act on the Zippo Encore stage at Download are the legendary Kvelertak (7/10), who unfortunately struggle through dodgy sound and technical difficulties throughout their set. In combination with a less-than-ideal reaction from the audience, it’s a difficult half-hour for the Norwegians – but you wouldn’t know it by their performance. This is a band who are effortlessly entertaining, putting every ounce of passion and wild abandon into their show that they can muster despite the circumstances. Fan favourites like ‘Blodtørst’ and ‘Mjød’ are infectiously raucous, and recently-instilled frontman Ivar Nikolaisen manages to break into the upper echelons of “coolest vocalists I’ve ever seen” when he lights up a cigarette during the bridge of a song and subsequently stubs it out on the back of his hand. It’s a near-perfect setlist for Kvelertak (if only they’d stop with the endless “chug-chug-chug” of ‘1985’), and would’ve likely been one of the best shows of the day if not for a myriad of issues outside of their control.

Next up, it’s potentially the band I’m most excited to see all day – Conjurer (9/10). After witnessing them lay waste to 2000 Trees and ArcTanGent last year, it comes as no surprise whatsoever when they do the exact same on a bigger scale at Download. They might well be taking to the smallest stage at the festival, but it feels like the impact of tracks such as ‘Retch’ and ‘Choke’ are felt all across Donington. The musicianship, as always, is crushingly heavy (even more so than on record) and the dual vocal attack from Brady and Dan is frighteningly good - the moment when the latter comes forward to scream the bridge in 'Hollow' without the assistance of a microphone is still fucking outstanding. There’s madness in the crowd to mirror the windmilling antics on stage, and by the end of ‘Hadal’, Conor (Britain’s best bassist) joins in the carnage with glee. As he crowdsurfs back beyond the safety of the barrier, and the final notes of feedback die down, it’s even harder than before not to be madly excited for the future of Conjurer. What a band.

Clutch (8/10) are a Download staple at this point, and their triumphant performance on the main stage proves why. With frontman Neil Fallon acting like the southern rock n' roll ringmaster he is, this band seem custom-made for a main stage festival slot like this, and they've got the crowd to prove it. It's true that Clutch might be getting a bit long in the tooth at this point in their career, but new songs 'Gimme The Keys' and 'In Walks Barbarella' still stand up amongst their more well-known material. There's not a face without a smile to be seen as the brilliantly simple guitar lines of songs like 'Electric Worry' and 'X-Ray Visions' ring out over the field to close the set, and, at the end of the day, that's what it's all about, innit?

After Clutch, I must admit that I slightly ignored my purpose as a music journalist by binning off bands like Whitesnake to go and see two hours of wrestling in the NXT UK tent. I’m happy to report that I had a bloody lovely time, and the women’s battle royal was a highlight – big shouts to Xia Brookside. Anyway…

There’s likely not a band who were dealt a rougher hand at Download than Twelve Foot Ninja (6/10), who were forced to take to the Dogtooth stage 20 minutes late due to technical difficulties. The problems result in a three-song-long set from the Aussie experimentalists, which clearly (and rightfully) ticks them off a bit, but those three songs are tight nonetheless. With fascinating influences from world music melded with metalcore and all manner of other genres, 12FN give everything they have to their short set (perhaps fueled a little by annoyance), and it's a respectable showing given the circumstances. 

The Friday headliners this year are a band whose music I grew up on, and are very close to my heart: 80s rock legends Def Leppard (9/10). This being the third time the group have taken the final slot of the day at Donington (and exactly ten years since their debut), the audience are treated to a performance of their most popular album – Hysteria – in full… and I might be drunk, but it fucking rules.

The introductory montage of snippets from every song on the record sets the scene, and as the band launch into ‘Women’, it’s clear that they’re still as passionate about their music as they were back in the day. Each member gives it their absolute all, and it’s a beautiful thing to watch. Of course, it goes without saying that Joe Elliot may not be able to hit the notes he used to with the same amount of power, and the band can’t run about the stage the way they once did, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t still radiate stage presence and sound impossibly good at the same time. How can you not be convinced by a six-song run like ‘Rocket’, ‘Animal’, ‘Love Bites’, ‘Pour Some Sugar On Me’, ‘Armageddon It’, and ‘Gods Of War’? There's no Guns N’ Roses shit, either – not a single unnecessary guitar solo in sight for the whole set, as the band just blast through hits and look good doing it.

After the final track on the album, ‘Love and Affection’, there’s a short intermission before Def Leppard return to the stage to pump out a few more classics (like ‘Let’s Get Rocked’ - a set highlight for me) before finishing with ‘Photograph’ (the iconic riff of which is enough to bring a tear to the eye). Throughout the set, there are plenty of emotional moments - from a tribute to the late, great Steve Clark to a moment taken to praise drummer Rick Allen – but Elliot’s speech once their headlining slot is over for good is poignant and engaging, as he simply asks that the crowd do their best not to forget about them. I know that Def Lep aren't gonna be the talking point of the weekend, and it's even pretty out-of-character for me to be going on about them like this, but after a set as good as they put on, I wouldn't be able to forget them if I tried. Consider me rocked.

Photo by Paul Harries (Kerrang!)

Albums of the Week: 07/06/19 (Dinosaur Pile-Up, Plague Vendor, Fuming Mouth)

Dinosaur Pile-Up – Celebrity Mansions

8/10

Best Tracks: Thrash Metal Cassette, Back Foot, Professional Freak

FFO: Feeder, Demob Happy, Puppy

Dinosaur Pile-Up, for the last few years, have been one of the best “greatest hits” bands in British rock. Each of their albums lays claim to two or three incredibly infectious, bouncy, rifftastic bangers (from ‘My Rock N’ Roll’ to ‘Red and Purple’), but each usually tends to find company with some ultimately less memorable tunes. Celebrity Mansions is arguably the first release from the Leeds-based slackers in which the deep cuts hold up to the singles.

From the very first wild, adrenaline-pumping scream on ‘Thrash Metal Cassette’ to the final chorus of ‘Long Way Down’, Dinosaur Pile-Up don’t pull any punches on this album. It’s riff-heavy alt-rock at its very best, and some of those said riffs are so good that they act as real, tangible hooks. The main guitar line in ‘Back Foot’ is as catchy as any I've heard since that Turnstile album last year, and - excitingly - it feels like it has enough in common with a band like Royal Blood to potentially crack the mainstream. In fact, I'd be surprised if this LP isn't picked up by a number of people who wouldn't typically listen to rock and metal, just because the songs are so infectious and well-put-together (especially with the band just recently signed to Parlophone Records).

With song titles like 'Stupid Heavy Metal Broken Hearted Loser Punk' and 'Professional Freak', it's pretty clear from the get-go that Celebrity Mansions is, for the most part, thematically concerned with the classic struggles of an outsider, as well as a disdain for mainstream celebrity culture (hence the album's title). Vocalist Matt Bigland can be found across the record taking on topics from being in a band but never "making it big" to loving someone who won't look twice at you, all with tongue firmly planted in cheek. There are countless cultural references (i.e. "I wish I was a billionaire and balling like The Rock") and subtle jokes which add up to a brilliant sense of character and attitude, and it means that DPU really stand out among their peers. To top it all off, every single line seems to be delivered in the catchiest way possible.

Celebrity Mansions is the best album of Dinosaur Pile-Up's career thus far. With all the pop hooks and big riffs flying about, I'd be amazed if anybody who hears it wouldn't be convinced of the band's potential. Most importantly, it may finally mean that DPU get the attention and popularity that they've deserved for so long.

Plague Vendor – By Night

7/10

Best Tracks: Let Me Get High \ Low, Pain In My Heart, Snakeskin Boots

FFO: Hot Snakes, Tigercub, Metz

The title of “World’s Coolest Band” is hotly contested, but Plague Vendor have long been the dark horse who you should really put your money on. Their second full-length record, 2016’s BLOODSWEAT, showcased a unique style of alt-rock oozing with swagger and knowing confidence, and was impossible not to dance along to. On this third LP, By Night, the band once again prove that they can’t be touched in their suaveness. 

There are a lot of Plague Vendor’s signature sounds on this record. From the wonderfully greasy, oiled-up guitarwork to the repetitive hooks delivered with a decidedly punk energy, it's all striking and recognisable upon first listen - an impressive feat, to have honed such a unique sound by only their third album. There are enough differences to their previous work, however, that the album is able to keep the listener on the edge of their seat for its 30-minute runtime. The one-two punch of Pain In My Heart and Snakeskin Boots is a prime example, as the former is led by an abrasive, discordant guitar line which really gets under the skin, and the latter features an unnervingly monotone pair of a capella verses.

It should also be pointed out that the production work on By Night – done by John Congleton (whose previous efforts include records by Explosions In The Sky, Earl Sweatshirt, and Trash Talk) – elevates it to another level. It creates an almost psychedelic atmosphere, and the feverish aura which hovers around each track mirrors the album artwork in its lucidity and surrealism. This artistic decision does mean that it may take a few listens for the record to really sink in compared to the up-front nature of their previous work, but when the penny drops, it does so with a clang. The swirling, trippy effects on the song 'Let Me Get High \ Low' in particular make for a hypnotising listen.  

Though it might be Plague Vendor's least instantaneous effort thus far, By Night will dig its claws deep into you by the third listen. I still prefer the straight-up adrenaline of BLOODSWEAT, but this record is no doubt a worthy follow-up.

Fuming Mouth – The Grand Descent

8.5/10

Best Tracks: Burning Hand, Vision of Purgatory, Dead Asleep

FFO: Gatecreeper,Venom Prison, Trap Them

There’s a riff in ‘Dead Asleep’, ten tracks deep into my first listen of Fuming Mouth’s The Grand Descent, that honestly made me stop everything I was doing and simply sit, dumbfounded, at how incredible metal can be sometimes. There's a lot of that here.

This debut record from Massachusetts newcomers Fuming Mouth is powerful. It takes influence from the worlds of death metal and hardcore in equal measure, and the resulting amalgam is as utterly, beautifully crushing as you could ever hope for. With furiously violent drumming and a bass tone you can feel in the pit of your stomach married to inventive, earth-shattering riffs, the album is instrumentally pretty flawless - not to mention original and exciting. The vocal performance is the icing on the cake, with Mark Whelan shredding his vocal cords to achieve the same intonation in which you would expect the monstrous god on the album's artwork to speak.

To do all this and make it sound absolutely huge is no mean feat. My personal favourite modern producer, Kurt Ballou (of Converge fame), is behind the production on The Grand Descent, and it simply seems that when it comes to heavy music he can do no wrong. His distinctive take on how to make everything sound ten times more disgusting and destructive once again works fantastically here, and it results in one of the best-sounding records I've heard for a while. It helps that the album has a perfect length - 33 minutes mean that the band can get in, rip your face clean off, and get out. It leaves you satisfied, but still wanting infinitely more.

Fuming Mouth, here, have released one of the best debut LPs of the year thus far. It’s gnarly, it’s weighty, it’s creative, and if you’re into heavy music for the riffs, you’d be a downright fool to not give it a listen. The Grand Descent is my album of the week.

Album Review: Skepta - Ignorance Is Bliss

Wagwan. Albums of the Week (featuring Dinosaur Pile-Up, Plague Vendor, and Fuming Mouth) is on its way next week, but I'm off to Download tomorrow and won't be able to upload it in that time. To tide you over, MOPE is putting out its first ever guest contribution! My dear friend Joao Ricardo has penned a bumper-size review of the new Skepta record below, and fans of hip-hop and grime would do well to check it out. Enjoy xx

Skepta - Ignorance Is Bliss

8/10

Best Tracks: Bullet From A Gun, Glow In The Dark, No Sleep

FFO: Stormzy, slowthai, JME

Ignorance Is Bliss is the 5th studio album from grime veteran Skepta. His last studio release, Konnichiwa, was met with praise from both fans and critics alike; key tracks like 'Shutdown' and 'That’s Not Me' performed well, and undoubtedly created a buzz for his next release, despite being released 1 and 2 year(s) prior to the album they would appear on. This will be last mention of other releases, however, as I want to review this album by itself. I'm not the most up-to-date person reviewing Skepta, and thus prefer to analyse his work as a standalone release.

The album starts off strong with the opening track, 'Bullet From A Gun', hitting off the release with a sharp and well-crafted single that sets up the rest of the album nicely. The standout elements here are the percussion and bass lines found in this track (and throughout the entire record). Thick, rich bass lines are delivered with a distorted edge that give the tracks a darker character and align the album with a traditional grime sound. Whilst the first song sets the pace and tone of the record, other tracks quickly pick up the load. 'Redrum', 'Pure Water', and 'Love Me Not' all employ the use of those dark, dirty bass elements and 808’s that we’ve come to love. These definitely drive a lot of the tracks in combination with the excellent drums and percussion providing motion that otherwise would not be there. The sound design as a whole on the album is tight, gripping and forceful. Hi-hats are razor sharp throughout, kicks bounce the listener from track to track relentlessly inciting a constant pace and seamless listening experience.

This alone, though, would not be enough to satisfy us as listeners. As such, the vocals on the record capitalise upon this and provide equally powerful moments, with the main star being, of course, Skepta himself. 'No Sleep' is a prime example here, as his diction and articulation mimics the harsh and brittle quality of the hi-hats, creating a brutally intense listen for the audience as they dodge and dive through Skepta’s bars, trying to avoid injury from the explosive delivery. That’s not to suggest that the grime artist forgets to add a message behind it all; Skepta comments on how “it’s so funny how quick they get rich, then go broke / But it’s not a laughing joke”, discussing the perils of fame and fortune. This thematic narrative of responsibility, family and dedication to one’s dreams is recurrent throughout Ignorance Is Bliss, grounding the album in a gritty, relatable reality that many of us (from all walks of life) can appreciate.

“Recently I’ve been learning a lot / All I know is there’s no better feeling than getting home and seeing my little girl in a cot” was one of the standout lines for me across the breadth of the album. The sensitivity and vulnerability of a father is shown here that contrasts against some of the other less tasteful lyrics spread throughout the LP. The main offender here would be the track 'Greaze Mode'. Although it's one of my favourite tracks, and a banger at that, I do find myself having to switch off in order to enjoy the song for what it is. “I just made your girl my girl, she’s on her knees / On her knees, she see the D…” in comparison to the other more introspective and insightful lyrics found in other tracks, I get the impression this song was manufactured to be a hit above anything else. Although the subject matter is similar on 'Love Me Not', the line "I've got this brand-new ting she’s mad in the 'ed, bad in the bed, I get to grab at her leg / She's a lady for real but a slag in the bed" was just comical and I won’t even pass comment. Never have I heard someone say 'slag in the bed' unironically.

This brings me onto the features, which were - for the most part - pretty poor. 'Greaze Mode', 'Love Me Not' and 'Glow In The Dark' are the exceptions here, as I feel that their features do at the very least add something to the tracks. I can’t say the same for the track 'What Do You Mean?'. When I listened to this track, I was surprised when it suddenly dawned on me that no, I was not, in fact, playing FIFA ’05 and in the character creator. There’s just something about the song that gives it a dated feel which I can’t quite pinpoint; the languid performance of J Hus, however, definitely doesn’t help this matter at all. Perhaps the worst feature on this record is performed by Key! on the track 'Redrum'. Skepta simply leaves this man in the dust and the production doesn’t even try to save Key!’s performance on it. Skepta’s lines are fierce and surgically delivered almost through grit teeth, the production and sound design is piercing; jabbing you in the best possible way and driving you forward in a state of excitement and pure hype. Key!, on the other hand, just doesn’t match up to it, and falls behind hard. His mumble-rap style just does not do anything for me, and I feel it weakens the track by quite a margin. Whilst he still remains on beat, you can hear that his delivery just isn’t as on point as Skepta, and occasionally it even seems like he’s stalling for time in a lost attempt to come up with the next bar.

There aren’t a lot of bad things on this record and I feel like Skepta has done a great job on quality control, providing a consistent and entertaining experience throughout. There are weaker tracks (notably 'Gangsta' and 'Animal Instinct'), but even their poorer performance doesn’t detract too harshly from the overall quality of the album. The biggest problem I have is with some of the features, which I felt brought down the quality of the tracks, or just didn’t do anything at all. I felt those spaces could have been better utilised by Skepta himself to add further insight to his day to day and thought processes. Other than that, this is a great album, and hopefully Skepta's future endeavours will be as of such high quality, if not better.

Words by Joao Ricardo

Albums of the Week: 31/05/19 (Frank Iero and The Future Violents, Denzel Curry, Cursed Earth)

AOTW is back in action after a couple weeks off! The albums I missed will likely be covered further down the line, but next Tuesday's might also be delayed because I'm proper busy, so apologies in advance.

In regards to this week, I've got to shout out my good friend Will (@WillCeney_) for the assistance with the Denzel Curry review; he's basically the MOPE hip-hop correspondent at this point. Anyway, on with the reviews n that x

Frank Iero and The Future Violents – Barriers

6.5/10

Best Tracks: Fever Dream, No Love, Police Police

FFO: Microwave, Remo Drive, My Chemical Romance

Frank Iero made his name as the guitarist of one the world’s most successful rock bands in My Chemical Romance. Since their (absolutely gutting) split in 2013, his solo projects have always been the most interesting out of any of the former members of the group; 2014’s ‘Stomachaches’ was a brilliant burst of catchy (yet chaotic) alt-rock, and ‘Parachutes’, two years later, was even better – a swaggering, almost violently full-on record.

Now, on Barriers, Iero manages to cast the widest net he ever has. It still features his trademark messiness - it all feels like it could fall apart at any moment - but the production is far more understated than his previous solo work. The defining quality here is that every track feels like a different genre, or at least a different musical approach, and such experimentation yields a number of great results. Opening song 'A New Day's Coming' is an intriguing, bluesy, '50s-style ballad; 'Fever Dream' has a gnarly, stomping riff which drives it along; 'No Love' lays claim to the album's catchiest hook, along with a captivating sense of atmosphere. Iero's personality and experiences are deeply ingrained in the record, and he's utterly unafraid to bare his soul, not least because Barriers is partly borne from a near-death experience the man had whilst touring his previous release.

Because of how wildly disparate from each other some of the tracks feel, my main issue with this album is that it can often feel tonally inconsistent. It's jarring, for example, to go from a messy, cathartic track like ‘Police Police’ to an earnest, piano-led ballad in ‘Great Party’, even if both songs are enjoyable in their own right. This leads to another problem, in that my enjoyment of each track can fluctuate depending on the style. For instance, whilst ‘Medicine Square Garden’ is perfectly competent in terms of songwriting and musicianship, it just doesn’t grab me in any way because the quirky, lo-fi atmosphere (with instrumentation mimicking the rhythm of Iero’s over-the-top vocal performance) does pretty much nothing for me – particularly right after ‘Moto Pop’, an upbeat album highlight.

Barriers is a patchwork quilt of a record, taking parts of a multitude of styles and piecing them together without an attempt to make it pretty. While it has to be said that sometimes this works in its favour, more often than not it simply ends up feeling a little confused. The more I listen to the album, however, the further its claws dig into me - it, like the two Frank Iero solo projects before it, has the advantage of undeniable charm, and a number of songs which will keep you going back for more.

Denzel Curry – ZUU

7.5/10

Best Tracks: RICKY, BIRDZ Feat. Rick Ross, CAROLMART Feat. Ice Billion Berg

FFO: Vince Staples, Duckwrth, JPEGMAFIA

In 2019, hip-hop is the dominant force in the world of music at large. It might still not get as much radio play as Ed Sheeran, or as many record sales as the fucking Greatest Showman soundtrack (yes, still), but it’s the most popular artistically viable genre of the past couple years - it’s exciting; it’s boundary-pushing; it’s got far more breakthrough potential than something like metal. You might have guessed by now that I don’t necessarily have my finger on the pulse of hip-hop, but I do know which artists have made an impression on me, and Denzel Curry is one of them.

Fans of his will have recognised his talent since 2015’s 32 Zel, but more recently Curry made waves in the rock and metal scene with his brilliant cover of the Rage Against The Machine classic ‘Bulls On Parade’, which showcased Zach De La Rocha-esque aggression from the Miami rapper. It prompted me to revisit his LP from last year, TA13OO, and I gained a newfound appreciation for it – but I have to say that I prefer ZUU as a body of work. Even if it is far less ambitious, the record feels tighter and more refined as a result, clocking in at just 29 minutes long.

It’s the big-hitters on ZUU that make it stand out. The album’s first single, ‘RICKY’, is undoubtedly the highlight, with a hook more infectious and memorable than anything pop music has produced in the last five years. It opens the record in a powerful way, and over time is backed up by similarly bass-oriented bangers in the forms of ‘BIRDZ’ and ‘CAROLMART’. Between such danceable heavy-hitters, more melodic (though equally punchy) moments are permitted to shine through, as ‘WISH’ and ‘SPEEDBOAT’ take influence from today's biggest artists in their use of autotune and floaty production. In fact, ZUU is ingenious in the way it mixes the new era of hip-hop with old-school tendencies throughout.

Though there are some stellar guest features on this record, none of them come within touching distance of Curry himself. In terms of energy, flow, and - most significantly – lyricism, he’s on another level. To be able to aptly provide personal reflection of spirituality, family, the death of his friends, and his roots in such an instantaneously catchy manner is no mean feat, especially when later on the album he allows himself a track dedicated exclusively to ass ('SHAKE 88') and it doesn't feel out of place. ZUU is, through and through, a testament to the ability of Denzel Curry.

Cursed Earth – The Deathbed Sessions (EP)

8/10

Best Tracks: Fear, Rock Bottom, Operation

FFO: Jesus Piece, Thy Art Is Murder, Kublai Khan

Perth’s own Cursed Earth have been through a weird couple of years. Just as 2017’s Cycles of Grief put them on the map as Australia’s hottest export in brutality since Thy Art Is Murder, the messy departure of vocalist Jazmine Luders in 2018 saw the future of the band threatened. Now, with The Deathbed Sessions, they’ve made their first, almighty step back on track.

This ultra-collaborative project sees Cursed Earth make use of a different guest vocalist on every track. It’s a simple idea which is pulled off absolutely flawlessly, as each new voice offers something exciting and fresh whilst the instrumentation ties everything together. From Kublai Khan’s Matt Honeycutt coming across as threatening as ever on ‘Fear’, to the fantastic interplay between Booka Nile and Sean Harmanis of Make Them Suffer on the unstoppable 'Deathbed', to Larissa Stupar's demonic feature on 'Tyranny Forever', it's an effective who's who of outstanding modern metal vocalists.  

As previously mentioned, the instrumentation that drives each song is the thematic link between them, and it’s just as disgustingly, terrifyingly heavy as it should be. With drums which sound like they're played by Godzilla working in combination with chugging, full-on, metallic guitarwork, there are countless next-level breakdowns and crowdkill-ready passages on this EP. All are gloriously violent. Somehow surpassing even those moments, though, is the song 'Operation', on which the band messes with structure and utilises glitchy white noise effects in a manner similar to bands like Jesus Piece or Code Orange. It means that once the vocals and typical instrumentation kicks in, it really hits ten times as hard - a stroke of genius which elevates the record even further.

The Deathbed Sessions is the battlecry of a band refusing to die so easily. It’s spiteful, furious, and ignorantly heavy, but inventive and exciting at the same time. Predictably, in-keeping with my tastes, this Cursed Earth project is my album of the week.

Live Review: Slam Dunk Festival 2019, Hatfield

Slam Dunk has been the first date of my festival season for the last three years now, and it's always a brilliant day out for those who love live music. Despite the recent unceremonious axing of the best date on the festival's schedule (that being the Midlands, which I usually attend), I made it a fourth year in a row on Sunday 26th. Over the course of the day I managed to catch 18 different bands, which might be a new record for me, so without further ado, here's how it went down.

Being put on as the first band on the bill at 11:45am is a pretty rough card to be dealt, but Cruel Hand (6/10) do their best to make the most of it. I only manage to catch the first fifteen minutes of their set, but in that time the band seem intent on forcing the crowd to wake up through the use of their own thrash-tinged hardcore alarm clock. Though they suffer from an expectedly muted reception from the early audience, the band themselves aren’t lacking any drive or energy as they blast through a few fairly simplistic tracks. As the first sound the festival site hears all day, Cruel Hand do an admirable job.

Photo by Angela Owens

Angel Du$t (6.5/10) are the first full set of the day, and it’s a solid showing overall from the Maryland punks-turned-power-poppers. The first few songs do fall slightly flat, with very little response from the crowd, but once they hit their stride with tracks off their recent album it all comes together. ‘Bang My Drum’, ‘On My Way’, and ‘Big Ass Love’ are all irresistibly positive singalongs which work surprisingly well sandwiched between the slices of breakneck-speed hardcore punk which bookend the performance. A modest pit finally breaks out for ‘Stepping Stone’ and ‘Toxic Boombox’ before the band leave the stage, and it’s obvious that Angel Du$t are clearly more accustomed to having some energy from the crowd to feed off of as they spring to life in response. It’s a decent set to kick off the day, and an early reminder that unadulterated fun will always be important in a festival setting.

Following on from Angel Du$t, I manage to catch the last few songs from perhaps the greebiest band of all time in Kublai Khan (7/10). There are two-steps and spin-kicks aplenty in the crowd, egged on enthusiastically by frontman Matt Honeycutt, and everything about the music which soundtracks the violence is gloriously ignorant. The final song in the setlist, ‘The Hammer’, overshadows all that came before it to a certain extent because it simply is perfect mosh material. I’d challenge anyone not to grin from the sidelines when that chopping riff first kicks in and the crowd shouts “BITCH!” in unison. The performance is a fitting celebration of the beatdown to warm the attendees up for what’s to come.

Kicking the chaos up into a different stratosphere, Knocked Loose (9/10) are one of my most anticipated bands of the day. It’s the fourth time I’ve seen the Oldham County upstarts, and it’s easily the best set from them I’ve witnessed so far. From the fantastic vocal interplay between Bryan Garris’ signature yelp and Isaac Hale’s growls, to the sheer amount of stage presence radiating from every member, to the ideal setlist choices they pull out the bag, everything amounts to a perfect storm for Knocked Loose. The band play two new songs off their upcoming album, A Different Shade Of Blue, and both stand out as set highlights – particularly ‘Mistakes Like Fractures’, which gets a worthy response from the fans in attendance. In fact, the band seem to pull the biggest Impericon stage crowd of the day; a testament to their dizzying rise to the top of hardcore, and a strong hint toward the potential they have to break through into the mainstream. Ending the set with the infamous “ARF ARF!” breakdown of ‘Counting Worms’ seems like the perfect choice for a festival slot, and it leaves me doubly excited for what's to come for this band.

To follow up such an incredible set, I elected to see Wage War (6/10) instead of the “surprise” Busted set on the other side of the arena, because I’m not some sort of weird masochist. One of the better bands to come out of the early-2010s wave of “polished” metalcore, Wage War put on a decent enough showing even if it isn’t necessarily anything to write home about. There's a big market for this stuff at Slam Dunk, but as Wage War blast through breakdown after breakdown it all seems to blur into one slightly, with nothing much to differentiate between tracks other than a different chorus each time. Still, closing track 'Stitch' (their best song by a mile) brings it all together in the end, and it provides a solid enough warm-up for what's to come at the other end of the tent.

Turnstile (9.5/10) hit the ground running in a big way as they take to the Impericon stage, opening up with ‘Generator’ and not letting up for a single second for the rest of their set. It’s a half-hour full of infectiously catchy, hard-hitting riffs from the world’s most exciting live band right now, and it just edges the best performance of the day for me. With Daniel Fang holding it all up on drums in a way only he can, the other members fly around the stage like ball lightning. Frontman Brendan Yates and bassist Franz Lyons in particular are hard to take your eyes off of, both as bouncy and energetic as songs like ‘Real Thing’ and ‘Drop’. It all inspires a frenzy in the crowd which you’d have to be mad not to get swept up in. Melodic songs like ‘Blue By You’ and ‘Moon’ get an equally raucous reception, presumably because they manage to stand up alongside more typically hardcore tracks with just as much undeniable power. By the time ‘Gravity’ brings the set to a close, I’m bruised, I’m out of breath, and I’m convinced that Turnstile are the future.

Next up is a band I’ve heard a whole load of good things about: The Interrupters (6.5/10). The ska-punk phenomenon takes to the Punk In Drublic stage like a duck to water, and it’s clear that they’ve already amassed a pretty strong following despite being the youngest band on the stage all day. There are sticky, repetitive hooks, classic syncopated guitars, and funk-inspired rhythms all pulled off with a smile and a wave of the LGBT+ flag, which in turn puts a smile on the faces of everyone in attendance. As someone who isn’t particularly a fan of the genre, though, their relentlessly positive show just seems like standard fare. It’s not unenjoyable by any stretch of the imagination – the charisma from the band’s members is enough to ensure that much – but honestly, with all the hype surrounding The Interrupters, I’m left feeling like I’ve missed something. Maybe I just hate fun.

Photo by Ricky Frankel

Continuing the theme of killer bands on the Impericon stage, Cancer Bats (8/10) do exactly what you’d expect them to do, and blow the roof off the place. Armed to the teeth with ragers old and new, the Toronto legends waste no time in tearing shit up with an opening run of ‘Brightest Day’, ‘Road Sick’, ‘Pneumonia Hawk’, and ‘Bricks & Mortar’.  The newer material sits perfectly between more tried-and-tested tracks, with 'Fear Will Kill Us All' in particular becoming an unexpected set highlight. The band are their usual lairy selves; Liam especially seems to be more rock n' roll than ever, hyping the crowd up in between songs in a manner which would make Brian Johnson blush. It's always great to see the people on stage have as much fun as those in the audience, and with Cancer Bats, that's undeniably the case. The set nears its close, and as the iconic, rumbling bassline for 'Sabotage' kicks in, it's clear that there's only one way this show can end: in utter chaos soundtracked by one of the best covers of all time. What a band.

Pagan (5/10), though, are another act who unfortunately don’t seem to live up to their hype in a live environment - but it’s not really their fault. For whatever reason, the sound on the Key Club stage is a little dodgy throughout the day, and Pagan’s set suffers the most for it; Nikki Bruman’s lead vocals are (whilst impressive) far too loud and subsequently drown out a lot of the instrumentation, at least from where I’m standing. It’s a shame, because I like the band’s stuff a lot on record, and their stage show is intriguingly occult-themed (which you’d be hard-pressed to miss considering the big fuck-off neon inverted cross they use as a backdrop). The members are all charismatic in their own way, and to their credit they tear through the set with mountains of energy, so I’ll be looking to catch Pagan again at some point on a better day. Their set on Sunday just wasn’t a great first impression for me.

Without a doubt, the most irritating part of the Slam Dunk Hatfield site is the ungodly queues at the bars, which I found, on average, were about half an hour long. To make things worse, this meant I was held captive to witness about half of a main stage slot from Simple Plan (3.5/10). The pop-punk stalwarts rely heavily on nostalgia to pull a crowd these days, and songs like ‘Shut Up’ are still serviceable when played to people who were born in the 90s, but on the whole the set is pretty dull and tiresome. It only starts to get actively bad when vocalist Pierre Bouvier lets the crowd know that the band is “still making music” (if you need to do that, maybe you shouldn’t be on the main stage at a festival), and they launch into some of the most out-of-touch pop-rock of the past few years. Mercifully, I manage to escape with some alcohol just as ‘Summer Paradise’ kicks off. Phew.

From the dregs of a dying era to the spark igniting a new one, Employed To Serve (8.5/10) rip through their Key Club stage set on the best form I’ve ever seen them. Uniformed in their own Eternal Forward Motion windbreakers, the Woking hardcore giants waste no time in laying waste to the place with their new material. What follows is a half-hour masterclass in how to play a festival set. Perhaps egged on a little by the fact that the previous band, SHVPES, decided to play an extra song and thus force ETS to come on later than planned, the pure aggression from every single person on stage is palpable, with Sammy Urwin and Justine Jones constantly commanding the crowd to move to the sound of their brutal, groove-coated anthems. Songs like 'Owed Zero' (that guitarwork!) and 'Force Fed' (for a portion of which I am stood atop the crowd) sound even more powerful live than on record, and setlist staples 'Good For Nothing' and 'I Spend My Days' don't lose an ounce of weight even in comparison. Employed To Serve are this nation's best band right now, and they won't let anyone forget it.

Gallows (8.5/10) have been absent from playing shows and putting out records for the last four or five years, and as a result I have yet to see the legends of UK hardcore live, even with Wade MacNeil on vocals. Their return to Slam Dunk is probably the most eagerly-awaited set of the day for me, and as it turns out, my excitement is not misguided. Save for a slightly sloppy (if amusing) start, with MacNeil calling for his vocals to be turned up before being clocked in the head by a stray guitar, Gallows live up to the wait in a big way. Kicking off proceedings with Grey Britain classics 'Misery' and 'London Is The Reason', the old material is very much the focus of the setlist here. 'Abandon Ship', 'Come Friendly Bombs', 'In The Belly of a Shark', and 'Orchestra of Wolves' all get a play in between newer tracks, much to my absolute delight, but the band still aren't living in the past. MacNeil vocalises his support for "throwing milkshakes at fascists" halfway through the set, which gets a big cheer from fans (myself included) before Gallows launch back into their brand of furious hardcore punk. With the musicianship perfectly anarchic throughout, it's a glorious return from a true staple of the British heavy music scene. Hopefully they're back for good.

Photo by Jim Wright

I’m not an OG Bad Religion (8/10) fan, but after seeing them at Download last year and being instantly hooked, I had to catch the first twenty minutes of their triumphant set on the Punk In Drublic stage here. Though the L.A. icons are coming up on 40 years as a band, they fire off classic after classic with the energy and enthusiasm of musicians half their age. Vocalist Greg Graffin is simply on fire, playing off the crowd and introducing songs with a wry, knowing smile befitting of a man who has spent most of his life fronting one of punk's most significant and consistent bands. With tracks like 'Fuck You', 'Stranger Than Fiction', and 'I Want To Conquer The World' spanning decades, no member of the audience is left disappointed, and I'm left with an incentive to dig into the Bad Religion back catalogue.

Now, hands up here; I’ll always be biased when I review Glassjaw (9/10). Not only do I consider them to be one of the best and most important bands of all time, but their music has meant more to me over time than 90% of other artists I love. Saying all that, though, Glassjaw are on genuinely brilliant form at Slam Dunk. Daryl Palumbo moves around the stage like he’s made of water, bellowing out the choruses of ‘Ape Dos Mil’ and ‘Pink Roses’ (along with the diehard fans down the front) as if he’s just discovered new meaning in them, and he really seems to be enjoying himself throughout the set. Justin Beck’s guitarwork is, as always, absolutely staggering, and the rhythm section is spot on to tie it all together. Though the setlist doesn't contain any surprises, it doesn't particularly need to (as much as I'd like to see 'Stuck Pig'); the way the songs are played keeps them fresh, and because of it, I've hardly stopped listening to Glassjaw for a minute since this set. As Daryl leaves the stage with a "thank you" and a kiss blown out to the audience, I'm once again struck by how special this band are. We shouldn't take them for granted.

Watching the last twenty minutes of The Menzingers (9/10) underneath a double-rainbow sunset is probably the closest thing to a religious experience I’ll ever have, so it’s a good thing the soundtrack was befitting. With joyous singalongs to the likes of 'I Don't Wanna Be An Asshole Anymore' and 'Gates', it's pretty safe to say that this is one of the best sets of the day, even if I haven't managed to see it from the start. Unfortunately, during 'Nice Things' (the planned penultimate song in the setlist), the sound is suddenly, gracelessly cut off, much to the ire of the audience. It takes a while for The Menzingers to comprehend what's going on, but when they do, they abandon their microphones and lead the crowd in an impromptu a capella rendition of the last half of the song. It's bittersweet but beautiful, and only soldifies the love I have for the Scranton quartet. 

The Slam Dunk lineup’s biggest weakness this year was its headliners, and I didn’t particularly care for any of the three final bands on the bill. Despite this, I opted to give them each a chance and split the last hour of the day into thirds.

First up were NOFX (6/10), who were pretty much exactly as I expected; their reputation precedes them even though I’ve never caught them live before. Blasting through short, energetic punk tracks with what felt like little comedy skits in between from Fat Mike, the band put on a solid enough show for their many loyal fans. Again, though, their style isn't necessarily my wheelhouse, and so personally I didn't get too much pleasure from the twenty minutes of NOFX I saw. They were, however, more enjoyable than Bullet For My Valentine (5.5/10). Any band who thinks it's acceptable to bolster their set with a five-minute drum solo in the place of a song goes down massively in my estimation, and that's exactly what BFMV do straight after a decent rendition of 'The Last Fight'. From that point onwards, the focus on their more recent material is enough to drive me away - it's just pretty straightforward, meat-and-potatoes metal.

Against all odds, then, I manage to end my Slam Dunk 2019 watching the last fifteen minutes of All Time Low (6.5/10), a band who are very much not for me. Out of the three headliners, though, I thought they actually put on the best show overall. They're unbearably pandering, yes, and I'm definitely not the target demographic, but between the stage show and occasional throwback bop, the boyband-esque pop-rock institutions close out the festival in suitable style. Let's hope we get A Day To Remember in next year though, hey?

Photo nicked from Slam Dunk Festival Facebook page

Live Review: Feed The Rhino/Stake at The Underworld, Camden

When I first started going to gigs at the ripe old age of fourteen, Kent-based rockers Feed The Rhino were one of the first bands that really blew me away in a live environment. With shirtless, tattooed, bearded frontman Lee Tobin orchestrating unprecedented chaos in the pit whilst stood atop the crowd himself, it was unlike anything I’d seen up to that point, and because of it they mean a whole lot to me as an individual. I’ve seen them five times altogether, and on Friday I attended their last ever show. It managed to epitomise every reason I’ve loved them over the years.

There were three support acts for the Rhino on their farewell gig, but I only managed to catch the last one: Stake (7.5/10). I knew nothing about the band beforehand, and it turns out that was because they’d spent the last 14 years being known as Steak Number Eight before going through a reinvention just last year. This is their first club show with the new moniker, and the Belgian sludge-metallers put on a brilliant showing. Despite the sparse crowd, each member’s enthusiasm and subsequent stage presence is undeniable, especially in the case of the wild, distinctively-mustachioed frontman Brent Vanneste, who at one point notices that his spit is slowly dripping down from the ceiling and fires another glob up over guitarist Cis Deman. Stake have a unique and original sound which sits somewhere between the heavier Reuben material and a band like Cult of Luna, and it's honestly viscerally exciting at points.

When you see Feed The Rhino (8.5/10), though, you pretty much know what to expect; beer, sweat, and big fuck-off riffs. Once again, they don’t disappoint a single bit. There’s still a slightly muted initial response from the crowd as the band kick off proceedings with ‘Featherweight’ (a single off their most recent album), but once they rip into their more well-known material (starting with 'Nothing Lost'), the Underworld instantly becomes a cauldron of flailing bodies. Tobin is at the forefront, seemingly unable to go five minutes without climbing onto the front of the crowd in order to inspire more lunacy. Flanking him are metal’s lairiest brothers, James and Sam Colley, along with Oz Craggs, a force of nature on bass, and Chris Kybert, in constant motion on the kit at the back. Between them, they put on the best Feed the Rhino set I’ve ever seen.

There are countless special moments over the course of the hour-long show: fan favourite ‘The Burning Sons’ sees one last epic wall of death; the chorus of ‘Tides’ is given a beautifully drunk choral rendition by every member of the crowd; ‘New Wave’ sees a glorious, venue-wide “jump-the-fuck-up” moment that would make Slipknot envious. Perhaps the most memorable part of the gig, though, comes when Tobin pauses for a few words between songs and thanks the audience for their continued support. “We’re just five pissheads” he says, going on to explain that the band has always been tied together through a mutual love of playing music and “getting fucked uuuuuupppp”. With that, the band’s career is summarised absolutely wonderfully.

The final few minutes of the night culminate in each member of the band abandoning the stage and flinging themselves onto the crowd while Kybert decimates his drum kit in the background. Feed the Rhino then storm off the stage in proper rockstar fashion for the final time, returning only to shower multiple cans of beer over the cheering, chanting fans (myself included, though I would’ve preferred cider).  It’s a fitting end to what has been ten years of gigging dominance for one of Britain’s most unfairly underrated bands. Long live the fuckin’ rhino.