Support: Hanging Tree, Youth Man
When: 20th November 2015
Where: Start The Bus, Bristol
Reviewed By: Ben Chapman
It's often hard to gauge when to arrive at this sort of thing, but as we entered Start The Bus at a keen 7.30pm, the moody, grungy, rocky Bristol four-piece Hanging Tree were just setting off, exploring the heavier end of an energetic indie spectrum with more than a few engaging moments. They obviously had a fairly decent and deserved local following, playing to an eager early crowd, some of which celebrated the event by waving a smuggled four-pack of Red Stripe aloft gleefully. The venue's stage is nicely tucked into one corner down a short flight of stairs for a triangular shaped set-up with decent visibility all around the pit, though I'd imagine some of the larger or more restless bands occasionally worry over elbow room. Hanging Tree played with a natural-looking steadiness in a set that matched well with Tigercub's sound, providing a distortion-burnt grungy crust to sandwich Youth Man's raw and hurrying energy.
The venue had a pretty quick turnover with their bands, barely time to catch up with the draught taps or marvel at the mummified toilet seat in the lav before Youth Man, neglecting to introduce themselves, introduced a swiftly-forming crowd to the most aggressive sounds of the night. Opening in such a blur, I think they started with Insipid, a sharply trampling thrash-around that sees the three-piece impressively making full use of all their noise capabilities. Afterwards they thankfully proved they weren't too cool to say hello before continuing on with a set that evidently was not to be slowed down, with Youth Man throwing the awesome Skin in early on for full impact. It was energising stuff, with those not jumping about steadfast in awe, their blunt approach perfectly striking home their songs, tunes that made you jig, sped up your metabolism, and spill beverages faster than intended down the throat. Definitely the most unique act of the evening, and most probably the twitchiest, Youth Man omitted some of their more atmospheric numbers from the set, such as the slowly churning Wide Awake in favour of fully-overwhelming, spike-fronted distortion and speed which we were treated to during the sickening revelry of Pigs and the screechy vocals over melodic bass runs in Heavy Rain. The set broke down in spectacular loudness towards the end, with a snarling Kayla invading the crowd wielding a dangerously swung headstock, bassist Miles thrusting the fret board against his monitor amp, and myself managing to triumphantly scoop away the weathered drumstick that was launched into the crowd as closing punctuation. Perhaps most impressive was learning later that only did the drummer power through an incredibly heavy set (well prioritised), but he snuck off to hand in some uni coursework right in time for the midnight deadline, before dedicatedly returning to flog merch.
When Tigercub reared their heads to end the night, it wasn't long before everyone noticed the Nirvana-sounding influences, which are undeniable; from the guitar tone's feedback-loving tendency, the snappy chord progressions, or those curtly-wailed vocals, often hanging with lowly droning harmonies. Talking with the band later, they admitted that they often hear such comparisons, and I felt like the classic annoying fan hassling over the typical reeling off of bands they must have heard. But the Nirvana shadow needn't haunt the band. It's by no means a bad thing; Tigercub manage to take it further, headed with a beefy overdriven feel, or bursts of jarring melody adding a slight mathy weirdness, with that ever undulating distortion merging the band's efforts into something vaguely psychedelic, all still bringing enough originality to their own proceedings so that we're left listening to a freshening yet nostalgia-soaked splash of water to the face.
Three bands all evidently having a decent time, the latter two, as they neared the end of their shared UK tour, showing no signs of complacency, and all musicians taking the time to watch each other's sets and have a quick chat with the fans made the evening more than I ever expected, leaving with a lager-churned stomach, drumstick memento sticking into my flank, and an unashamed grin that the rain couldn't remove.
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