It ain't easy being screwed up 24/7 - it kind of wears you down and digging in each and everyday takes its toll- hence the pills rolling down my throat, the constant nightmares, the torn bed sheets, the bleak thoughts, the worry about my loved ones, the past, the future, the current day etc. etc. etc. I keep myself busy (too busy) as passion, enthusiasm and a real repulsion of fake players is the way I am and so as a result the whole bodily structure is under constant stress. So a Monday night gig was the last thing I needed was a choice of this or the shenanigans nearby that took place on Saturday night featuring more 'kudos' laden bands - you just know were I am gonna be especially as the promoter is such a sound dude with his ethics and attitude in all the right places.

So a busy day and then to the gig, the poor was poor and it didn't change for the night (see - the big bands call everybody runs, the little gigs call - nobody can be arsed if it means going out of their way - fuck all the talk). I needed an early one so decided to nail as much as I could and review accordingly - only the headline act was missed - sorry chaps - long day, early start, health haywire - next time.

First band on Manifest - a local crew with a heady brew.

Manifest are 3 likeable chaps who have done their whoring bit for the scene - and a little bit more. The attitude is sweet and they are always up for a chat and a bit of banter and it seems, that in their latest roles, they could be in for quite a lengthy run - I hope so, potential is large man!

Tonight was a tale of mammoth moments putting into perspective those that can be deemed as fine and packed with morsels of untapped potential. The start was hefty and set out a Hardcorian stall that had thought, musical progress and big blistering inducing expulsions of electric heat. The use of computerised snippets via an Ipod was cute although a little clumsily delivered - don't drop it though chaps, smooth it out and persist - I like the touch and the set can only flourish with these atmospheric cuts. Andy (the amiable chatterbox) on bass applies himself with gusto and has a convincing air as well as being able to radiate some good bass lines. He also has a good musical knowledge which is thoroughly reflected in what he does - a good component he be and never missing an opportunity to elaborate (within reason) and gasbag with the crowd. Tom on drums is a dude I have known for years, a decent unassuming chap whose stout stickwork is currently at its tightest and, may I add, most technical. Never underestimate the fella - very effective in an unobvious way. Bartek the charmer of the 6 strung serpent is another quiet gent whom, with each and every set, grows in stature. He is certainly extending himself at the mo and mixing up the powerchops, taut manipulations and heavy 'zoned in' riffage. Fuckin' applaudable dude! Overall, despite the none too liquid Ipod intervals this was a forceful set finalised by 2 songs that stole the entire show. These and a couple of earlier eruptions are the mammoth highs that I mentioned and if replications can be had, so as to fill an entire set list, I guarantee Manifest will literally cause you to shit yer pants. Tonight created many rectal rumblings to savour and I look forward to what the near future brings. Thrash it out chaps.

As stated I was looking for an early finish tonight and wanted to squeeze in a couple of new bands that had me intrigued before I pissed off into the night. The first of these was H/C anti-fascist riff wreckers Black Eye Friday - an uncompromising outfit with a noise to make and a few things to say. As is the hardcore norm I felt that if these sub-generic warriors got it right the output would be hugely rewarding but, if one waver in the wrong direction was had, real sonic sludge would be created. The blasting bastard that was BEF quelled any anxieties and fuckin' nailed a masterclass of perspiring, passionate and slam dunking sonica that was a pure cranium cracking delight. No ponsing about, no considered posing, no questionable motives - just fast as fuck machine gun music splattered successively over each and every attentive victim with only 2 targets in mind - to destroy any doubts, to make utter cacophonic bedlam. Many songs smashed it with zeal, many fractured the restraining barriers of orthodox routine, many went through the stratosphere - wow. And to think so many are chasing nostalgia - daft cunts! Drums were tight, the guitarist focused, the bass man played with his back to the crowd and grumbled on, the frontman threw in his all and shook up the visual. Songs that inspired my spiked inner soul were such numbers as ''Run Fascist Run', 'Heroin', 'Refuse To Die', 'Get Off The Fence' and the massive 'Dead Suits'. BEF - thank you - the Fungal git is taken aback - big time!

Lastly and to Shithouse - a red hot beast raring to go and prepared to build on the conflagration created by the aforementioned rioters. The main essence of this band was utter sound saturation with the drummer at the rear absolutely going flat out to belt out a beat that the two raucous and rhythmic rioters at the fore could fuckin' feed off. Amazing stickwork delivered just how it should be - without breath, natural and incessant. The songs relied on the two frontmen to gob off and strum in unison and this gave hints at something akin to The Restarts on a diet of whizz and sandpaper. Tonsils were torn, screwed up faces retched up rage-filled verbals, strings copulated and created, at certain points, a puristic avalanche of sound that left not one ounce of free space for even the slightest disturbance. You know the type of effect - the kind that jars the marrow in the bones, melts the grey matter, shakes up the bladder so that a sexual liquid spillage is unavoidable - thwap. As the set advanced the massive moments tripped out one after the other with a few heads getting well and truly into the groove and indulging in a jive and a bit of grapplemania. Why not - they truly did witness the shitness and couldn't help to get themselves smeared. Love it and the swift execution of each song (just like the previous band) is always how it should be done.

So there ya go - 3 bands on a Monday night for £3 and if I would have had time it could have been 4 (apologies again dudes). Big gigs come and go, kudos passes me by, back-slapping is not my thing, living in the tedious trenches of the past is not a stance that I prefer to take and here, on stage tonight, is the reason why. I don't mind the odd catch up with an odd old band once or twice a year but I have said it over and over and will say it again - noise is about moving forward, the new stuff is where the excitement is found and there is no better thing than seeing new bands and getting really fuckin' turned on, inside and out. Thanks to all artistes who rocked heavy to a lowly crowd - better to a few who mean it than to many who are just passing the time or indulging in a hobby. Fuck em', DIY is the way, defy predictability, piss on suggested rules and regulations, unload yer ass on uniformity, stick the finger to tradition - move on, place emphasis on the new generations - LIVE, EAT and SLEEP...NOISE!

Whoosh - gotta dash - Docs in the morn then on a barge trip and a pub lunch to follow and then an evening play - tick, tock, tick, tock...

review by Fungalpunk/OMD (21 May 2013)