Rage-inspired punk, a whole host of goodness at Monochrome and Getintothis‘ first use of the word zoomorphic. Mike Doherty and Alicia J Rose get on it.
What do You Me At Six and Rage Against the Machine have in common?
Not much you might think, but they both have a knack at creating alternative rock rhythms and can get their crowds going utterly mental. Ok, were being very selective with the facts to make our point, but bear with us.
There is an awesome power that YMAS have over their crowd (like Rage).
The power to make 1,200 dehydrated teenagers sweat for a 70 minute set (like Rage), which included a ton of new songs and an impromptu cover of Rage’s Killing in the Name Of (see how it all fits together?)
Towards the end, the kids are literally falling over each other, their clothes soaked and their legs weak – at least they’ll sleep well tonight.
by Mike Doherty
You Me At Six: If I Were In Your Shoes
If you missed ‘Anti-pop’ at Monochrome, you lost out.
The venue held colossal music in a crimson shell.
Omnipresent Metro Manila Aide opened and word is they’re ‘The scrap metal band of the future’ and rub trunks with Ganesha.
Fraktures followed in with powerhouse rock to set the tone. They entertained a swollen crowd but ‘There were No Irish, No Whites, and Woof Woof’ when The Dead Class wailed into the arena.
The stage show commenced with white masks, orange boiler suit, a siren and an ooze of imagination.
It all felt too much as they ripped into the crowd with ‘Living in the Age of Paranoia.’ Oh lord sonar, we knew we were in for it.
The band blistered under the spotlight and there was no easy way out. This
Ever revealing they gave , entertaining with stories like, ‘I’m a Hanging Basket,‘ and without room to pull breath we got, ‘You Never Know What Happens Next‘.
It turned out the boy in the orange boiler suit, with ‘The Hole in His Heart‘ undressed and pranced across the stage.
Secretly the band was bringing in the next number which just so happened to be ‘Mr Donkey.’ It all got messy when ‘My Machine,’ violated all terms and conditions and sadly ended with the wily chap bleating about ‘The Loneliest Man in the World.’
I think not, in skinny white arse jeans and ‘woof woof’ tee, the Dead Class frontman topped the biscuit.
Without doubt they are music animals of worth and a live act to shine a searchlight torch at.
Then turning in the name of the Queen and Jesus it was The Drellas leg.
With cocky shirt and guitar, drummer gone ape, long plaits and a sparkly cheeked girl giving you what for, this band was violent art.
Their raw and very rare excitable mood dominated.
The total cash converting was ten times worth the ã3 entrance with the whole caboodle being nigh on short of zoomorphic.
by Alicia J Rose
The Drellas: Violence Is Art
You Me At Six
Metro Manila Aide
Fraktures
The Dead Class
The Drellas
