MUSIC

Thekla, Bristol (Sun 18 Dec)

It’s Holy Stain’s second to last ever show, so we can forgive them for believing volume is synonymous and interchangeable with enthusiasm. Their joyful send-off; our week of tinnitus. Peppered throughout the set are post-hardcore vocal exchanges which recall At The Drive-in (a sort of musical relay in which the changeover is initiated by a pained scream from the other vocalist); melodic, krautrocky basslines; moments that recall Wire’s guitar tones and others that seem pilfered straight from My Bloody Valentine’s tab book. It’s a mishmash of not-quite-there influences, but what remain consistent are the paint-by-numbers crescendos: start to head bang when the speakers are overloading and the guitarist’s spasms render his face a skin-coloured blur. It’s not a particularly inspiring songwriting method but, for a 30-minute set at an all-day festival, this routine does well to keep the crowd’s attention. During the final song, they invite Big Jeff to yelp poetry over… something. It’s difficult to process exactly what it sounds like. Mostly because Venue’s attention is directed toward the lady pouring her drink on Jeff’s chest as he rubs it in, or worrying about the owner of the glasses he is now wearing, or the diseases he will contract from rolling on the floor. Yet, for a spectacle so intensely physical, the final song stands out as the most musically cohesive and genuine; Jeff’s screams and shouts a freeing, visceral addition, which makes any details of the instrumentation beneath an afterthought.  (Leah Pritchard)

Copyright Leah Pritchard 2011; pic copyright Leah Pritchard www.leahpritchardphotography.com