Possum EP Launch Party. Wharf Chambers, Leeds – Live review.
Though I forgot my railcard, fifteen quid bought me a return ticket from Manchester to Leeds. Directions from two strangers and an awkwardly positioned screenshot of a google maps view led me to the illusive bar and music venue, Wharf Chambers. Inside - I discovered sad, post-punk music performed by smiling musicians. This is the kind of live event where I feel like my personality, feelings and tastes are wholeheartedly resonated with. Such experiences are cherished greatly. From the moment that first chord strums, every audience and band member is indulged in that exact frame, absorbing the music and indulging in their immediate environment, not concerned about what’s ahead or behind that space in time. That buoyancy carried me to the end of the evening. What enriches this aspect of a gig is when you’re surrounded by people that all have this appreciation for a genre that hones and articulates some of the most fragile of human emotions so shamelessly. This music demands a certain personal connection that everyone is aware everyone else in the room has. It’s as if there’s a shared understanding that we’re all on the same side, from stranger to stranger. Possum put the event together in their hometown, Leeds to celebrate their ‘Come Down’ EP launch. The punk bands that supported were paw-picked by Possum.
‘Scene’ set. On to the review.
The first chords to grace the evening were that of power, strummed by singer and guitarist, Hayley Smith and accompanied by the agile drumming of the passionate, Will Cook. A one-minute burst of thrash distortion and double time jump-started that punk motor with such an aggression that sent Cook’s hat flying. Long Body are good and write good songs that catch the ear. You can tell they honestly believe in the music and the scene they’re contributing to. The guitar tone - however beautifully rad, shrouded Smith’s vocals, of which, never projected to shout. I therefore, couldn’t make out very many of the lyrics but I don’t want to let that discredit the duo. Their sound check was brief and the venue’s setup for sound is notably simplistic – for one, the concrete block that held the kick drum in place – part of the event’s charm, of course. The guitar tone compensated for their lack of bassist just fine and the artistic ability and intent can be heard, loud and clear - found in the stop-start transitions, tempo changes and composition. The song writing is where it counts, after all. The sound is malleable thanks to Dr Smith’s precise Injections of flange effects and intricate finger picking. Carefully placed feedback outputs bounced against the Cook’s harsh rim-shots and crashes. The team are as big as any band when they communicate and respond to each other as these two do. The pair had a modest presence but expressed an intent to engage with the audience. The drummer had a mic for the sole purpose of speaking to the crowd and encouraged people to chat with them after the set, so-called journalist over here failed to take what hopefully is not the last opportunity. But this evening was about the music, and the music had spoken. Excuses, excuses.
Five-man band, Weakdaze weighed in heavy. A frigidly poised Scott Davison would drone a motif of melodies through washed out rhythm guitar verse and choruses, scream and shout his way past the roaring and climactic, metal-inspired builds and instrumentals. With his head bowed, and often turned away from faces in the crowd, he communicated a nervous and self-loathing nature, reflective to the lyrical content of the songs, particularly on their early single, ‘Ouroboros’. There’s a certain sheerness to Davison’s delivery that makes you believe they were written in the exact moment the songwriter felt the pain described. The songs are intimate and personal, too raw for radio right now. Weakdaze are certainly on to something. They’re well coordinated and please a good crowd. They’re resting on a strong foundation of sounds, are placing the passion where it counts and hitting close to home. Weakdaze for your weak week days.
Cheap line upcoming: Hinges are off the hinges. These guys want nothing short of full impact. Straight in the face with full-front nudity grunge guitar distortion, Bass guitar paralleled riffs knocked our heads to swing back and forth. The singer was understandably “knackered”, even after the first song. Screaming, growling, singing – a singer as versatile as the tones Hinges grind. Was never afraid to shout over quiet verses and even utilized spoken word, reminiscent of Counterparts’ ‘Decay’. All the feelings were so real - spilled over an audience that had filled the room. The track, ‘Aches & Pains’ harnessed the ever-giving Nirvana formula of bass and drums to float the main riff during the verses, then opening up on the chorus that led into metallic breakdowns. They would explore sinister tones while incorporating elements of swing and jazz, gradually building until it breaks out into hard rock choruses. They played confidently and each of the five instrumentalists were integral to the music. They had a good balance of punk flavoured simplicity to flair and attentive musicianship. Little touches like choking the chords during some breakdowns told me that these guys have it down. They still have some chords yet to let loose on our ripe and ready ear holes. Their inspirations lie in an area of the emo and punk scene that I adore and visibly excited to discover a fresh band pushing out that sound into the British punk scene.
Possum
It was at this moment I realized that it was Possum’s lead, Adam Crockett who wrote ‘JAH BLESS’ on the back of my hand, allowing me guest entry to the gig room. I also got to speak with him and bassist, Reece Allen and we briefly discussed our time at university and academia’s effect on music, I complemented Crockett’s Bad Brains shirt and split off for a tin. They both seemed so excited to be knee deep in the event and were so welcoming to not just me but seemingly to everyone who had turned up. ‘Alright’, the song that snare and kick-started the set, elevated by drummer, Andrew Horn’s bop and poppy, math-fused magic and met with Crockett’s tireless finger work and yelling of his woes as the room jumped and stepped in time with each shift in tempo. Serenity would be granted between full thrash half-time and high-octane summer diddies. “The negative is the source of the positive” as the ‘Endolphins’ track from their ‘Come Down EP' so rightly explains. What’s pain without pleasure? Effectively, and I think that’s the perfect context for this band and their music - their song writing translates that, and the happy tones Possum elicit so well soundtracks a moment of live music where everything comes to a balance, and you can celebrate a current exterior and generally - being alive. Crockett, by contrast, sang of endured sadness. It’s as if the gathering is just a glorified therapy session, one audience member even jumped up on stage to hug the dedicated singer. This band have a great formula for producing miserable music, somewhat, unconventionally. They know how to apply all the conventional methods at the times where they’re most effective. Their tone turns all the right corners and is steered by three very adept musicians. This band have plenty choices for their musical direction and I don’t care which they choose if it means they can still produce noise. ‘Nuff said.
Possum live shot credits to Chloe Lens Photography