My best mate is as musically obsessive as I am, but his aural drugs of choice are opera, folk and classical. Over the last ten years we have entered into a Faustian pact and have taken each other to shows. He has taken me to the Opera house at Covent Garden to see an astonishing production of Salome, to the Royal Festival Hall to see experimental symphonies and to a tiny folk club hidden in the back streets of London to witness an eighty year old man recite centuries old revolutionary ditties. On the other hand I have taken him to see Dying Foetus, Alestorm and the mighty Slayer.
Read MoreSo after doing a week of mega-gigs courtesy of Nightwish and Def Leppard, here I am back in my element. Namely a dark, dinky poorly lit upstairs room of a pub and also as usual there are probably less than 40 locals joining me, but none of this matters as this for me, is where our music really comes to life.
Read MoreOur life, like the universe, is largely made up of dark matter punctuated by the occasional bright spot. As we stare into the unnatural canvas of brake lights and computer screens, sat in our prescribed clothing trying to remain within prescribed behaviours, is it any wonder how close our demons lurk beneath this veneer? Something as simple as the organised vibration of air particles is enough to lure the beasts from all of us, unleashed and unburdened, a second state of you, fist in the air. Screaming “It has to start somewhere It has to start sometime, what better place than here, what better time than now? All hell can't stop us now”.
Read MoreBefore I was able to rationale an argument against religion I often found myself as a child, stood behind a lectern reciting a letter from the Corinthians or some such babble to the elderly parishioners of Kirkby. Now as a young boy I didn’t know much about a rabbits dick, but I’m fairly certain not one person mentioned within the New Testament called Jesus “a shit stained cunt”. Alas the sheer misery of negotiating Manchester’s gridlocked streets took its toll on Johann. That was just the start.
Read MoreSólstafir for me, are one of the most inventive and vibrant bands currently earning their crust playing Heavy Metal, so why are they yet again in one of Manchester’s most select venues (ie its smaller than my living room) is beyond me. But more ranting about the fact that a band of Sólstafir’s stature are playing in place that would give even the smallest cat a headache later. We have two support acts to look at first.
Read MoreWhy is everyone at Def Leppard tonight? Don’t they know the real party is on Hotham Street? Newport “Ragga Metal" pioneers Skindred are back with their “That's My Jam" tour, and I’m ever in the mood for the kind of fun packed shenanigans that the band routinely bring to their live shows. I flew out the house without my bank card and my train home has been cancelled, but even that doesn’t dampen my spirit. I might just have to walk 17 miles home, that’s all.
Read MoreI may spend approximately eighty percent of my time listening to obscure extreme metal (according to Spotify) but I absolutely adore Cheap Trick. They are the sonic equivalent of devouring all of a king-size packet of Haribo by yourself; decedent, indulgent, sickly sweet and so so wrong but god oh so enjoyable.
Read MoreJohann rocks up to the house, sends me a text “Thanks, Love!”. It’s sweet but I think the sentiment is misguided, I’ll take it though, it’s a harsh world and the cold is eating through my chequered shirt. If K is reading this, I think it was meant for you! We are on the road early; New Years resolutions are being activated early. It’s the new way, Johann assures me. So of course we get to the gig with ten minutes to spare. “Should I move to Manchester?” He jokes, “Manchester people are so much friendlier!” just as he is cut up by an errant Mancunian in a silver Volvo.
Read MoreI've traveled all over this country and to the continent to see Nightwish, so it was quite nice for once to see them with just a simple twenty minute tram ride home. Though, to be honest I suspect booking the cavernous Manchester Arena may have been a slightly over-ambitious move on their part as it is only about at best, a third full and there was enough space at the back of the seating area to build a small nuclear reactor. Though I shouldn't really complain as taking residence in the biggest venue Manchester has to offer means that they have been able to bring their full mega production and that production includes obligatory support act that haven't played UK before.
Read MoreI regularly dip my toe into Prog and my signed vinyl copy of ‘Misplaced Childhood’ would be the thing I would save in a fire, but tonight I may be out of my depth as I am in serious hardcore Prog devotee territory. This is top shelf, sold in a brown paper bag, hundred percent proof, not for lightweights full strength stuff and this is an audience of devotees and connoisseurs, very much not the ‘I heard one song on the radio I thought I would check them out’ crowd.
Read MoreIt may be cold out but tonight, in the wind tunnel that is the Academy 3 we are gathered to be warmed once more by the great blues rock revival (though I was at University here in the nineties so this room with always be the Hop and Grape or even the hope and grope…). Anyway there is a vague feeling of hip and trendy about this evening as the moustaches and beards are out in strength and the PA is pumping out obscure Swedish rock n roll, sung in Swedish.
Read MoreThe question of where Metal goes next is something, we fans debate frequently as there are very few genre's left that Metal hasn't sidled up to and fluttered it's eyelashes at. Zeal & Ardor have taken a very unique direction by looking for inspiration from the musical cornerstones that shaped the Blues, namely Gospel and Afro-spiritual. By combing the raw power of Black Metal with these two equally earthy and guttural influences they have managed to create something that sounds completely and utterly unique.
Read MoreThe most satisfying success comes when you push and push and something happens beyond the prescribed boundaries. Often it is where you can see opportunity that others can’t. So it was, that in the sixth minute of four minutes injury time, Divock Origi saw what no one else did and caused much celebration for one middle aged Frenchman, who now sits beside me, bottle of water to hand and the effects of a 96th minute derby winner steering him nauseously to Manchester in the red, bullet wagon of death. “I don’t skimp on brakes and tyres” he assures me, testing his unnerving creed to the limit, but thankfully not past it.
Read MoreIt’s getting to the busy time of year for gigs, Johann is out most nights. We agree 2018 is a year we could both forget. March onwards, 2019 beckons and omens are looking good. Transition is in the air. The countdown, the car & the traffic jams are all there. The European driving style is better suited to the city streets and tonight gets to the gig for the opening act. It’s dark all the time now, I see in perpetual orange and rain magnifies the colours in the windscreen. I’m a shit passenger, hanging on to the handrail on the passenger side for dear life.
Read MoreWelcome to Clash of the Titans: the polyrythmic, ever shifting time signatures edition. If you like your metal complex, intelligent and highly technical then this is probably the finest double header you will find. First out the gates are Between the Buried and Me and without wanting to get a reputation as the reviewer always moaning about the sound, Tommy Giles Rogers Jnr's vocals are just about audible. Now usually this would annoy the hell out of me but, truth be told, I would be gushing lyrically about Between the Buried and Me even if our Tommy did his entire vocal delivery via the medium of mime.
Read MoreLast week as I was running to Of Mice and Men, I commented on the wintery chill in the air. Well tonight as Johann and I descend on Manchester, we're stuck in tail backs, amongst a sea of Christmas lights. Winter is coming. If I was to be honest, the thought of my supremely un-goth Minnie Mouse onesie holds all the appeal. There's something about the rush hour traffic that winds me up.
Read MoreAfter my Liverpudlian midweek logistical nightmare of shooting 2 gigs in the same venue at the same time, it becomes increasingly evident that tonight may also be one of those night. As I reach the door of Gorilla in Manchester for Northern Irish band Therapy?, my name is nowhere to be found on the list of approved photographers. After some lengthy conversation outside on the pavement (backed up by the hard evidence of email conversations) my name miraculously reappears on the guest list and I’m in.
Read MoreOne of the most startling developments of the last few years has been the re-emergence of heavy, bluesy rock as a dominant force in our musical world. Classic (or you can call it hard, heavy, bluesy or commercial it really doesn’t matter) rock was seemingly dead and buried ten years ago or at least only worth a dollop of tongue in cheek irony (The Darkness, I’m looking at you). But now there is a virtual Smorgasbord of young whipper-snappers playing the type of infectious guitar-driven danceable rock that was last in vogue before any of them were glints in the soundman’s eye.
Read MoreThere's a wintery chill in the air as I make my way to the legendary venue that is O2 Academy. I've got some stories about this place... but I’m not here to reminisce. I’m here tonight to review what promised to be a “wild" night.
Maybe it’s traditional to review things in the order they happened.
I’m not a traditional person.
Read MoreEden’s Curse have an uphill struggle from the off. Theirs is smooth retro AOR and whilst it is melodic and even sweet in places, it just echoes around an almost empty Academy. The Schenker devotees that have crawled in early, look like they are still shaking off their Sunday morning hangovers and look in no mood to be swayed by Survivor-esque light rock, it is almost like they are playing into a void.
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