The reason I gig as consistently and as vociferously as I do is in the vain hope that once in a while, I will experience nights like I did tonight. This evening is one of those instances where the stars align, and everything clicks into place. Cutting to the chase, tonight Orange Goblin were utterly phenomenal and by a country mile the best live act I have seen this year, if not this decade. Everything was right and everything worked. The band were hyped, the crowd were pumped and the bond between the two felt unbreakable. But I am getting ahead of myself as initially the omens weren’t great (cue flashback music).

It’s a Tuesday night in the business end of the festive season and town is deserted. The UK has plunged headfirst into Season 2 of Covid and there is an unshakable realisation that the big bad vanquished at the end of the first run was not the big bad after all. Opener Urne emerge to a heavily underpopulated Gorilla and I am momentarily concerned that yet another young band that I highly rate will be sacrificed to the gods of indifference. I needn’t have worried as Jo Nally expertly summons what bodies there are forward and they tear into their short but stunning set with utter furiosity.

Urne have stumbled upon an inspired mix of lilting prog and incendiary hardcore that is just aural magic. They weave a web of tight angular riffs and crushing breakdowns, but then adorn it with luscious melodies and introspective interludes. They manage to showcase four tracks from their sublime debut “Serpent & Spirit” and seem to be rather blindsided by the universal acclaim that it has received (“people keep coming up to me and telling me that we have made the best album ever” deadpans Jo with a mixture of disdainful disbelief and British reserve). This evening they succeed in giving this show the stirring start that it so desperately needed. By the end of their allotted half an hour, not only have they vindicated the pre-converted gathered at the front, but they have won over a sizable chunk of the rapidly filling hall. They state that they are back in Manchester in April and my sage advice is to get in now whilst you can still claim to have been in on Urnefrom the off.

For me, King Creature suffer from the “after the lord mayor’s parade” blues. Their affable and carefree persona immediately captures the crowd’s imagination and goes down well with a throng of people now predisposed to party. However, my head is still pulsating with the monolithic riffs from ‘Desolate Heart’, so as much as I try and engage with King Creature, they just feel too bright and breezy after the crushing heaviness of Urne. It doesn’t mean they are not good, as they come across as highly proficient in dispensing catchy pop Metal chords and choruses. Its just that it doesn’t stick for me, but from the bouncing celebratory hordes I am clearly in a minority of one.

In a time when partying seems to be in short supply (unless apparently you work at no 10), I can’t express strongly enough how much we need a good time party band like Orange Goblin. Tonight, in the midst of a national fit of woe and depression, they are simply extraordinary and for ninety rip-roaring minutes they make the world an entirely better place. What Orange Goblin create is a communal experience where the audience are as crucial a part of the performance as the band. The secret is that there is no rock star ego at play here. Whilst frontman Ben Ward maybe built like the proverbial brick shithouse, he is in fact an unpretentious, unassuming and playful frontman who seems genuinely moved by the reception that his band receives. He speaks honestly about how much he missed and needs the outlet of performing and continually pontificates about how humble he is that we choose to spend our Tuesday night with him and his band mates. The situation we have all lived through is continually referred to, with Ben ironically mentioning that the delays to the tour mean that this now the 48th anniversary of the bands formation that they are marking. The banter between Ben and the crowd is irreverent and dispels with the power dynamic “worship me” approach you get in other quarters. Essentially Orange Goblin are just like us, it is just that we are playing different roles in this performance.

But this is not a spoken word gig and for all of Ben’s affable verbal sparring, tonight is about the beauty and power of pure unadulterated Heavy Metal. Orange Goblin have never tried to be anything they are not. There are no fancy sub-sub-sub-genres at play here or ill-gotten attempts to splice in different styles. They are an unashamed Heavy Metal band and tonight that is all we need. This is masterclass in how you play in your face Metal. It is bluesy, dirty and built for communal singsongs. It also makes you move. The pit slowly builds during the set, initially its one or two semi-interested bystanders cajoled into action by newcomer Harry Armstrong. However, by the time we reach the self-described horror trilogy (‘The Fog’, ‘They Come Back' (Harvest of Skulls)’ and ‘Sons of Salem’) it is a heaving mass of gesticulating bodies that stretches all the way back to the bar.

‘Sons of Salem’ also marks the end of the “main set” but Ben decrees that they have stopped bothering doing the leaving and coming back again charade because they can fit in another song if they just stay put. At that point the intense, intoxicating atmosphere that this unity of band and crowd has created, is ratcheted up several more notches. The stage divers start to rain off the stage (including local boys Pist) and the entire sticky floor becomes the pit. You can not help be caught up in the feeling of utter joy that exudes from both the seething masses and band careering through their final number. I have tried, but there are really no words to describe just a wonderful it felt to be part of that moment, how invigorating and life-affirming it was. It was like being bathed in an explosion of pure love and exhilaration, a euphoric high of biblical proportions. And that is the wonder of rock n’ roll and why tonight was so special. It speaks to us somewhere deep inside and make the darkest of times seem bright and manageable. Tonight was the blissful enrapturing experience that both us punters and the band so desperately needed. Just remarkable.