The chainsaw pop of Your Biggest Fanclub is serrating our ears and pogoing with massive Dr. Marten boots over what remains of our auditory nerves. The distorted booms of bass guitar and sphincter debilitating synths are amazingly contained into vacuum packed three minute mini-anthems that are impossible not to enjoy.
‘T9 Dictionary”s chorus tangles you up in its unshakable indie disco grasp, bridging a gap between Johnny Foreigner and Futureheads while mustering up the meaty sounds of Pulled Apart by Horses and the power house of Youves. Whoever has pissed them off has done a fantastic job as their venting of frustrations and airing of grievances makes for a forcible pop scuzz.
Despite being more than familiar to the new wave poundings of (silver) souvenirs we’re not ready for the battering that they dish out to the near full house at The Rainbow. New recruit Chris Porter on drums has clearly had a weighty effect on the band, as the opening bars of ‘Flags’ roar ahead bringing to mind the beastly dance of Idiosync and the rigidity of Foals.
They’re at their best when the layers of vocal harmonies flirt around each other, lifting choruses to mantric levels to contrast the rhythm hugging of Stephen Hutton’s verse vocals. Karl Faulkner’s tunnels of bass expand the sonic spectrum for the guitars of Gary Geerlings and Samuel Hart to chase each other amid floods of reverb. Naturally, as the band become more confident of their own abilities, the more defined their sound will become but for now, their hooks and energy will keep their growing following baying for more as they are tonight.
To come all the way from Southampton to play what seems like a criminally short set must seem like a bit of a pisser to say the least, yet it doesn’t seem to sour Venice Ahoy‘s mood. Neither does the man who is heckling from the back while swinging his penis at his friend’s digital camera, but perhaps they just wanted to block that out.
‘Fireworks’ is exactly that and no explosive cliche is going to do the band’s performance justice. The fractious math rock twiddlings that we have come to expect are less apparent tonight and instead we are treated to a teaser of raucous slams of muscular pop.