 On wrapping up my chat with a sing-along from
The Computers, I headed downstairs, found a delightful
little spot by the bar and settled down for the
show that rocked my socks so hard that they departed
my biker boots and made their way to sock heaven.
God rest their soles.
Leeds based Chickenhawk blessed my frontal lobes
with their raucous brand of energetic grime. Dirtier
than a chicken coop and faster than Usain Bolt
this support act ticked all the right boxes in
warming up what started as a meagre mob for what
was to be a psychotically good show. I’ve
got to be honest here; the frenetic axemen and
a hero of a percussionist sure did deliver.
As time progressed, the mob began to grow and
Outcry Collective took to Clwb Ifor Bach’s
stage. If Steel Panther and The Darkness had a
love child, this would be it. Think bad banter,
zero rapport with the crowd – really, who
mocks the Welsh language in a Welsh speaking club,
in Wales? – and overly staged rock n roll
antics. With hair tips taken from Airbourne and
Johnny Borrell in equal measures. It was the off
stage, inter-crowd outbursts, including lead singer
Steve Sitowski hurling himself off a nearby table
thus nearly flattening said table and an innocent
spectator. Yikes. Sadly, Outcry Collective are
almost as try hard as Cheryl Cole and thrice as
irritating.
Luckily, it wasn’t long before The Computers
continued this rollercoaster show taking us straight
to the climax of the ride and literally rocking
the shit out of Clwb. Stepping out and looking
sharp in top-to-toe white skinny denim ensembles,
the Exeter quartet blasted rafter rocking riffs
with episodes cracking banter; cue anecdotes of
house parties, unwashed clothes and drummer Aidan’s
pant wetting fun. Bless.
 Repeatedly running back and forth from the stage
to the elevated merch stands, through the close
knit and throbbing crowd, vocalist Alex sweated,
rocked, riffed and ruined us. With his mic lead
wrapped and tangled around his mic stand and guitar,
health and safety would have had a field day.
But this is punk. And we don’t care. Tripping
over monitors and leads with sweat pouring from
every, well, pore, Alex, Sonny, Aiden and Nic
put their all into every nano second of what can
only be described as hardcore insanity.
This exact combination of ear drum assaulting
riffs, unwashed clothes and 3-D concert antics
has branded my frontal lobes like a South Western
bovine.
This, ladies and gentlemen, was the type of under
the radar act that makes tinnitus worth enduring.
This, ladies and gentlemen, was The Computers.
You can run but you can’t hide from The
Computers.
Chickenhawk 4/5
Outcry Collective 1/5
The Computers 5/5
Review By Jessica Acreman
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