Bring Me The Horizon, TheAmity Affliction, AskingAlexandria @ Hi Fi, Melbourne(03/03/2011)

Mon 7th Mar, 2011 in Gig Reviews

Remember the Arctic Monkeys? They were pretty good once upon a time, kept a little city like Sheffield, England on the map after Jarvis Cocker flashed his arse at Michael Jackson and Pulp went the way of, well, their namesake. Luckily for us the turgid Crying Lightning isn’t the best thing Britain’s Steel City has to offer at the turn of a new decade, so watch out Alex Turner because Bring Me The Horizon are coming through. And they are angry… very angry.

Much angrier than compatriots Asking Alexandria who have spent a little too much time working on their gymnastics and much too little time on their actual sound, no doubt in preparation for their fortuitous gig headlining Stage 6 at Soundwave. Having said that, aside from the cymbals being way too high in the mix and the occasional misstep in terms of posturing their aggressive assault provides a solid opening foray into the Screamo genre that really lacks only the precocious dynamicism of the headliner. Clean vocals and barbaric screams mesh well together and the rhythm section remains relatively tight throughout but once just can’t shake the feeling that the boys are worrying too much about the form of their frog leg pogo jumps or wishing they’d put more hair gel in their fringes. There are some decent songs in the set and some actually very impressive moments when the guitars break out or down to create changes of pace and it would be really nice to see AA re-prioritise and see how far they could go.

Next up The Amity Affliction have a criminally short set that is well executed and rapturously received by an audience welcoming good hardcore back to Oz with cries of ‘Amity! Amity!”. Blending heavy metal with electronica is nothing new or original but is rarely done well (here’s looking at you Enter Shikari) so gladly TAA have the good graces to limit the intrusive robot noises to a minimum and focus on prospering via a blend of impassioned clean vocals and a well observed restriction on the screaming. With the emphasis back on the heavy, furious guitar work, theirs is a sound reminiscent of Still Remains at their best and sets the crowd up perfectly for the doubtless rage filled finale as Bring Me The Horizon take to the stage.

And then Oli Sykes saunters onstage and we realise the boys aren’t all that angry after all. They’re quite chirpy in fact. Yes, he may sing like the reanimated corpse of a soccer hooligan but between tirade after vitriolic tirade, Sykes is actually quite the little character. ‘Does anyone here like to participate in sexual intercourse?’. Cheer. ‘I want everyone in here to get onstage and give me a fuckin’ high 5!”. Bigger cheer. Then (as drummer Matt Nicholls makes inconveniently lengthy adjustments to his kit) “err.. awkward silence’. Biggest cheer of all.

All 3 albums in the back catalogue are plundered for material, new songs Fuck and Anthem being probably the most accessible and best received, save for Chelsea Smile from Suicide Season which rounds out the show in fittingly feverish and impeccably executed fashion. “oh, for fuck’s sake… let’s see a circle pit then” mutters Sykes as the band faux-reluctantly mine debut Count Your Blessings for fan pleasing grindcore. It’s this nod to the fans, as well as their nonchalant attitude, that means Bring Me The Horizon like Killswitch Engage before them embody all the most likable things about genuinely heavy, heavy metal bands. The ability to not take themselves too seriously and avoid cliché by virtue of a tongue in cheek approach to live performance while maintaining the explosiveness of tight, impassioned and consistent instrumentalism.

As the band do everything right, Sykes much maligned vocal performance is also gladly on song as he delivers blood-curdling scream and choked wail with comparable ease. A little bit of help comes in the form of Deez Nuts’ JJ Peters who makes an admittedly tokenistic appearance on Football Season Is Over but really the night is all about the British frontman who used to be a clothes designer. They may be young, but BMTH have the chops to bind a boisterous Melbourne crowd in their spell and who knows, this might be the first time a heavily tattooed, testosterone fuelled crowd pay such reverence to a lead singer clad essentially in black tights and a dress.