The Horrors @ The Concorde 2

The Horrors at Concorde 2 Review

0/5
Bands: The Horrors
Venue: Concorde 2
Gig: The Horrors @ The Concorde 2
Gig date: 11th April 2007
Posted on 22nd June 2007 by bennyboy

"Elvis was a hero to most but he never meant sh*t to me", raged Chuck D some 15 years ago. Faris Rotter, the ghoulish giant who fronts The Horrors, probably feels the same way. He's certainly exploring the same line in provocative incitement as the Public Enemy hero. Last month, the tremendously out-of-step garage-goth five-piece were ejected from their own show in Boston when Rotter crashed the venue's prized $1000 porcelain bust of The King into a thousand pieces onto the stage floor. Presumably some would have viewed this Presley atrocity not only as vandalism but also virtual blasphemy. Back in the UK and Faris has subsequently found himself the subject of rather nervous pressure from promoters, concerned at his (quite frankly welcome) nihilistic nerve and verve. At a recent London show, he was presented with a list of 14 forbidden actions, including "do not turn the volume up" and "do not make explosives". Judging by the waves of mangled noise, harrowing screams and total strobe overload witnessed tonight in 30 minutes of utterly disturbed intensity, "do not make the audience sick" did not feature amongst those rules. In 2007, it's most unusual to experience a band capable of challenging their audience so forcibly, which perhaps explains why The Horrors have become such a devotional 'cult'. In the bar beforehand, hairspray is devoured at the same rate as alcohol by the legions of little Horrors, who really have made an excellent choice with this allegiance. It is, of course, traditional to moan about the current rock'n'roll climate. But at a time when the music industry would rather we embrace Razorlight or their little brothers, The Kooks, as the future, here is a collective with a rare grasp of danger, noise and style. Which The Horrors display immediately and ferociously. They emerge in almost total darkness to a disorientating backdrop of flashing red lights, soundtracked by a doomy bass and drum mantra and a guitar imitating a whipping electric current. Very quickly, however, we are in the unlikely midst of Joy Division's "No Love Lost". Rotter's 6'6" tall frame is imposing enough without him booming "I need this, I need this", and is only marginally diluted by a cloaked fellow band member seemingly floating onto the stage. Of course, there is a sense of the '80s Matchbox B-Line Disaster ridiculous about The Horrors. But their magpie pilfering of '50s surf rock, classic '60s "Nuggets" garage, visceral Velvet Underground and Stooges punk-core, with a rocket-fuelled hearse overhaul, is really no laughing matter. And as they charge maniacally through "Count In Fives", whereby Rotter promises to "cut you in half", "Sheena Is A Parasite" and a demented "Excellent Choice", it's almost impossible to work out what's actually happening. Or escape the increasing feelings of unease and nausea. Phew. If only there'd been a bust of Fatboy Slim here. by Ben Gilbert

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