With Detroit legends The Gories headlining, Mark Greenwood heads to Magnet for a whopper of a night from Harvest Sun.
There’s a good crowd at The Magnet tonight and an electric air of anticipation for The Gories.
When they kick off a lot of the audience appear stunned and a little perplexed regarding the lo-fi sound that appears to be lacking the thud of a heavy bass drum and no perceivable bottom end. However, once tuned into the lo-fi electric rawness of the two guitars, nailed down by a stripped back rhythm and blues back beat, we’re soon swinging to the aural equivalent of a dilapidated Mustang smashing through a ruined suburban dream, complete with attitude and wild abandon.
The band are cool as fuck, strangling every inch of sweat from their guitars while somehow retaining a regal nonchalance. As each number emerges, the assembled masses get rowdier and The Magnet soon becomes the epicentre of a volcanic eruption; tapping feet and nodding heads give way to drunken jiving and boozed up boogie-woogie – there’s even some crowd surfing going on.
What would you expect? With a back catalogue of classics, astutely attacked with the ferocity of a sonic boom tornado, we are soon crawling around on the dance floor, imbalanced by jaunty rock and roll and a heavy dose of Becks lager. Classics such as Telepathic, Feral and Nitroglycerine ensure that this was an explosive show, revalidating the legacy of The Gories as retro-pioneers of garage blues stomp.
Ohmns are consolidating themselves as Liverpool’s most popular party band and it’s easy to see why. They are as a feral as ever, prowling about like mad animals and frantically smashing through an energetic set of intense guitar punk drunk.
I’m reminded of Mudhoney in their Superfuzz Bigmuff heyday and while this may be a lazy comparison, it accurately describes the band in terms of their intense energy and chaotic aesthetic. Boil D Rice blows us into a random orbit and these lads continue to consolidate themselves as an essential, noisier and energetic alternative to the more sedate and slightly cumbersome psychedelic shams currently trading around the North West.
Mincemeat are relative newcomers to the punk rock’n’roll scene and the three-piece deliver a powerful set of tightly orchestrated punk lounge jive to a very busy Magnet. There’s a pop aspect to this band and Big Ste takes centre stage, delivering distinguished Jailhouse Rock vibes through an inimitable vocal style and some kind of botched up Woolworth’s guitar racket.
The band quickly whip up an electrical storm and are excellent value as openers, going down well with a pedantic and knowledgeable garage punk crowd. We’re relishing a debut release from these guys.
All in all this was a fine night, largely due to some great curating from Harvest Sun promotions, who continue to invigorate and refresh the Liverpool music scene with a potent mix of local and internationally significant bands. I’m lucky to survive a pretty hectic and memorable night, as I somehow stumble across Hardman Street, evading the killer taxis (now there’s a band name).
Images by Brian Sayle