After some confusion on the old MySpace, I stumbled across the real Six
Nation State. Or rather, the one's performing tonight, and not in fact,
some crazy Spanish group. And so I had a listen to give myself a general
idea of what was coming later that evening, and in all honesty, wasn't
exactly excited. It didn't sound bad at all, but it definitely wasn't
getting me rigid. This opinion however, was totally obliterated just a
few hours later when the five lads entertained myself and many more, at
the Fire Station. Everyone was loving them, every single sodding person,
and if an opening band can manage that then hats off, hats off indeed.
I think a lot of the charm the music held, came from the vocals; not only
the fact that all five members use their voices, but also that vocal melodies
are implemented. It's not always a guitar that has to take the top line,
just like a voice doesn't have to sing words, and these fellas sure proved
that. Faces covered with scraggly sweat-soaked hair, and upbeat song about
this and that made for a good listen, and although nothing stood out (as
in, four days on I can't remember their songs,) I know for a fact that
I was very much enjoying their performance, and on only one pint of Strongbow,
that equates to them being fantastic.
It's arguable that most of the crowd were here to see Jack Penate over
the Maccabees, judging by the crowd reaction when he made it to the stage.
I'm not even sure they make electronic devices that can measure that level
of decibel. His band (consisting of bassist and drummer) sunk into the
backdrop as Mr Penate threw himself about the stage, rocking out wildly
and giving the crowd an awesome show. His talent alone makes him worth
seeing, but when you see an artist really getting into their music and
really playing for a crowd, that's when you know you're witnessing something
special. Running through all the favourites such as "Spit At Stars"
"Got My Favourite" and "Second Minute Or Hour," Jack
ran for about forty minutes churning out catchy songs that made your foot
ache from all the tapping. This guy's a health risk. Ending with my personal
favourite "Torn On The Platform," it was strange that the act
The Maccabees had really brought to the public eye on previous tours,
was now the reason their tours were selling out. Although, to be fair,
he's fucking brilliant.
And now for the spectacle, The Maccabees. I'd seen them once before, and
in contrast, they looked a lot happier. Maybe it was the fact the venue
was better, maybe it had something to do with the age restriction and
apparent lack of pilled up little kids, who knows. Felix was loving his
little following on his corner of the stage, Orlando seemed happy enough,
and Rupert even cracked a smile at some point, shock horror. Their album
had now been released, and so everybody actually knew the words and could
sing along, and they ran through just about every song on the album. From
the favourites of "Latchmere" and "Lego" to the softer
tracks like "O.A.V.I.P" and "Toothpaste Kisses," in
which Orlando picked up a guitar of his own.
"I love this guitar. These lot think it's a piece of shit but I love
it."
And with that they played the closing track to their album, a beautiful
soft song about young romance and all that jazz, you know what these boys
are like. Every song had the crowd singing along, Rupert mumbling occasionally
to himself and Felix screaming into the microphone staring wide-eyed at
the fans at the front, Hugo wandering to and fro, Robert keeping himself
to himself (as you're kind of forced to do on a drum kit,) and Orlando
strolling around and at one point, borrowing a fans horn and blowing it
at the end of Tissue Soldiers. And then they left.
Hang on lads, you've forgotten arguably your best track. Predictably they
returned. Good boys. Playing a song not many knew called "Diamond
Solitaire" which Felix took the lead vocals on, and then, thank God,
"First Love."
Are you cool? Symettri-cool? A valid question Orlando, and I'm hoping
there's rhetoric involved.
"So many virtual high-fives, this must be a record or something."
Another great gig, every single band blowing my socks off, and would have
been easily worth at least thirty English pounds. (That wasn't the ticket
price by the way, I'm just saying.)
Review By Thom
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