This show took place on 16/2/24
The best individual musical performance I’ve ever seen onstage was Will Butler at The Institute in Birmingham, maybe ten years ago.
It was a tight little venue, I remember getting prawned over the railing during some of the more energetic songs. But Butler himself, he was magnetic.
It was the European leg of the tour for his debut solo record – Policy – an eclectic eight track americana manifesto that spawned as an offshoot of his work with a more internationally flavoured group – Arcade Fire.And a long way from home, having flown the indie nest, the energy he brought that night to a crowd who were mostly hearing new material, was sensational.
He caught lightning in a bottle that night, and I’ve never forgotten it.
I got to Crofters Rights late. See, I had planned on getting there a bit earlier to speak to some of the acts before nerves had the chance to set in, but I’d had a few too many packs of crisps so I couldn’t walk as fast.
When I arrived I was greeted by Alpaca’s own Phoebe relentlessly typing a code into the fire alarm system.
“I’ve got to do this all night.”
At least Connor was there to keep her company. I made my excuses to him and skulked inside to catch the first act – newcomers Gavel.
They opened with an instrumental that was hushed at first. A marching bass punctuated by bursts of feedback. A pink panther hi-hat built the mood. The singer, Josh, watched and waited, patiently as the introduction came to a close.
He paused for a moment, then launched into what felt like their real opener – Listen Up. They ratchet up the tempo and lay down a cool blues riff, bursting into life.
Josh, in his brown dungarees, steps up to the mic like an animal. Somehow whispering and screaming at the same time, like that patented Black Francis duality, but some way he crams it all together.
As the show goes on he displays his outstanding vocal dynamism further. Ranging from a Nick Cave-esque monster-crawling-on-your-floor during Beans McCoy to a tender, if troubled soul on Quiet, a ballad-goes-loud cut that nearly blew my ears off when it went loud. It was a theatrical performance really, caught at the bow of a furious rock and roll gig.
During Beans McCoy he repeated the refrain – Keep clear/Fire exit here – and a candle burned in my mind briefly for poor Phoebe, still mashing the fire alarm code.
Then, their last two songs – Pray, and Sweat, Sweat, Sweat – saw the trio in synthesis at their very best. The dynamics of a performance are so important in a three-piece, every little action is magnified, so each drum break ricocheted around the room, and the descending guitar line on Sweat x3 dragged you down into the depths as Josh belted out that killer hook.
I overheard Josh after the show say that his favourite song they performed was Pray, and I’d have to agree. Much like Beans McCoy’s forthright axioms about guilt, Pray carried more overtly religious themes, though I couldn’t tell you what the song was about…
The song even has a slightly reflexive quality – it reaches a crescendo of psalmic call and repeats – Pray! (Pray!)/Pray! (Pray!). It’s a proper tune that looked like a load of fun to play.
Frankly, this was an immensely impressive performance, let alone from a group of debutants, and I’ll be watching where they go next very keenly.
Distance Over Time
After a short break to check up on Connor and Phoebe’s button pushing endeavours, the venue started to fill again for Distance Over Time. For those of us didn’t pay attention in Physics – that’s the formula for speed…
DOT were a different beast altogether, ditching the garage punk for summer funk. Reverbed-out guitar washed out over the crowd for the first track – Keep Up.
It’s got an explosion of a chorus and is outrageously danceable. Paired with some beautiful backing vocals, it felt like a love letter to someone who may not have been in the room that night. It has to be said, in this and their second song – God Complex – it did feel as though someone was on the singer’s mind…
To be frank, the singer was a natural on the mic. He really knows his way around a melody but I’m sorry to say I missed his name, which isn’t a mark of the highest journalistic standard but he introduced the band like a seasoned pro and shied away at the thought of mentioning himself – he did introduce himself at the prompting of the audience, though I managed to miss it somehow.
(note – thanks to the most cursory of research, I’ve found out his name is Billy, I’m keeping that bit in though – it’s about how coy he was despite absolutely owning this performance.
One of their best songs was Get To Know Me, complete with piano playback, it had an epic quality to it that showed they were capable of taking their soft rock to ambitious heights. Fabulous structural control and a great level of technical proficiency meant that these guys really felt like the real deal.
They closed with Bored – a cheeky, shimmering summer smash hit that’s ready to earworm its way into your playlists. It’s an indicator of DOT’s infectious mood and seriously makes them one to watch moving forward.
Feral Family
During a quick chat with Connor, Phoebe, and the fire alarm, I heard a pounding coming from the empty room next door.
Feral Family had started, or at least, the drummer had, issuing a tribal call of sorts to the other two members of the band, as well as the crowd who gathered to watch them.
The guitar and bass answered the call, and started to screech one of their own. The guitar wailed over the top of this relentless bassline, and a much darker mood began to descend on Crofters.
Feral Family are a brooding Yorkshire three-piece who stopped off in Bristol on their tour promoting their new album – Without Motion – but they moved the crowd from static to relentless in just a few songs.
Picture the scene – big overcoat and a paisley shirt, I don’t know how he didn’t boil to death but they’re clearly purists, and they play loud. I was intoxicated by the discipline of the whole thing and every time the songs opened up into these flourishes for a chorus it felt like a gut punch.
They didn’t speak much between songs, beyond lamenting of the five hour drive that got them to Bristol. Instead they kept their heads up and rattled off their finest selection from the new record.
A particular live standout was track five off Without Motion – Wee Van Bee – half drone half cowbell infused twisted hymn plays like a silhouette ballet on a wall until it jumps out and grabs you, drum rolls reeling through your head til they release you. Acting like nothing even happened.
They closed with some thrashers, naturally, and put the cherry on a golden performance that had an air of the theatrical to it too. While the singer may not have been clasically trained he displayed a vocal control that is rare to see among fast and loose rock bands. Scaling the register on more than one occasion after a grueling journey, but the emotion of it all cut through.
Feral Family wound down, and packed up for their next gig in Northwich. Connor and Phoebe left sharpish too, abandoning the fire alarm situation to the Crofters staff.
I stuck around for a bit, in part to transcribe my illegible notes but also to reflect a bit on a show full of remarkable talent and natural performers. The debutants – Gavel – went beyond genre and expectation, while Distance Over Time’s well oiled machine took the gaze to some dreamland.
But Feral Family were different. They were the group who had the album, the tour, and more assured presence on stage but they arrived at Crofters as equals.
A long way from home having flown their Yorkshire nest, they won the crowd and the night with an electric performance of mostly new material that felt like they were playing all the hits. It felt like the start of something you ought not to forget.
You can listen to Distance Over Time on Spotify, and you can catch them at The Exchange on the 24th of February.
You can follow Gavel’s new shows on Instagram, and Feral Family are on tour and are finishing up at Dream Bags Jaguar Shoes in Shoreditch, London on the 23rd. You can listen to Without Motion on Spotify.
HAZE TRANSMISSIONS 