|Menace Beach with thanks to Kevin Lawson (editradio.org)|
Leeds supergroup Menace Beach fare even better: aside from a secret slot from Hookworms earlier in the day, they’re definitely one of Gold Sounds bigger talking points. The slogan daubed across singer Liza Violet’s guitar sums them up perfectly: ‘Ghoul Power’ is the name of their game as witchy synths darken a sound otherwise quite 90s Britpop. It's a clever trick that makes it clear why the mainstream press are falling for them. Despite Ryan Needham's struggles to keep his guitar strap hooked up to his new, very glittery guitar, they’re incredibly tight, with closing track ‘Fortune Teller’ reminiscent of a creepy dream that you secretly feel disappointed to wake up from.
|Joanna Gruesome with thanks to Kevin Lawson (editradio.org)|
Although White Lung are greeted by one incredibly eager fan who proceeds to howl every word of their Riot Grrrl rock back at them, the Vancouver quartet fail to sustain Joanna Gruesome’s energy, with Miss Way confessing that she is struggling to get comfortable on stage. It’s a shame, because she is a witty wordsmith, introducing the band’s drummer as ‘Ice Queen Anne-Marie’, an apt description for the stickswoman who is frankly brilliant but never sways from her Daria-like look of calm. Their 100 mile an hour rock is safe and likeable enough, although isn’t overwhelming exciting; if you’re after something more provocative, we’d instead refer you to Way’s altogether more vibrant journalism career, notably as women’s correspondent for Vice.
|White Lung with thanks to Kevin Lawson (editradio.org)|
|Sky Larkin with thanks to Kevin Lawson (editradio.org)|
With the pattern of mass exodus to the smoking area after every band beginning to grate, crowds are visibly depleting – too much booze with no catering to soak it up perhaps? It doesn't bode well for Ohio’s Cloud Nothings, who undoubtedly deserve their headline status, but take to the stage in front of a undernourished audience. Kicking into ‘Quieter Today’ from their new record ‘Here And Nowhere Else’, the moshpit swirls half-heartedly and Dylan Baldi’s vocals are lost under a sea of fuzz. Whilst this is remedied quickly, there is something still not quite right – normally inciting frenzied screamalongs, they’re greeted with enthusiasm that has one eye on it’s smartphone, checking to see when the last train home is. And at the end of 45 minutes that sees them talk little and smile even less, they make their thankyous and leave the stage. Having left out two of their biggest songs, an encore seems obvious, but as the tired crowd drift away and the house lights go up, it seems the plan has been mooted.
|Cloud Nothings with thanks to Kevin Lawson (editradio.org)|