It is unwritten code that thou shalt stand still, look disinterested and scowl at everyone else in the audience. Not so tonight.
 | | Bullet For My Valentine (pic: K McBride) |
The boys and churls are wearing black, the uniform of angst, but they are all racked with an excited energy that sadly most people lose with maturity. I started my night with the metally emo sextuplet Still Remains, sadly missing Aiden who must have started playing the second the doors opened. Comedy synchronised headbanging, a mad-as-a-hatter keyboard player who appeared to be operated by invisible overhead strings, and an array of giant hairdos made Still Remains an entertaining prospect, and one that went down well with the electric crowd. Next up were happy Yanks, Hawthorne Heights. Easily the most enjoyable band on the bill, they aired layers of delicate guitar riffs, clamped impeccably between roaring anthemic choruses. Well-balanced songs, bright clear melodies and a down-to-earth stage banter ticked several boxes neatly on my fictitious review sheet. Far from being “not metal enough”, as their singer lamented, these ponies had far more tricks in their tab books than either band sandwiching them tonight. Finally, to a palpable air of screams and surfs, headliners Bullet For My Valentine stomped onto the stage. Responsible for introducing a riff-heavy phase into their genre, BFMV deliver a solid wall of wailing rock thunder. It’s a bit repetitive and indulgent for my personal taste, but it’s great that the kids are being treated to old-style tandem guitarwork and gut-sourced vocals. Best of all, regardless of the odd American accent of frontman Matt Tuck, these are all Welsh boys, giving hope that the future of rock is safe on home turf.
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