Following their stellar showing at The Bully the week before, Drunkenstein get things rolling like a landslide. Imagine gentle tumbleweed turning suddenly into a boulder. If you asked Neil Armstrong how to control it, he'd probably tell you to put a flag on it; an ant would advise you to run for your life. But tonight's crowd aren't fazed; a couple even put their dancing boots on. Without showboating, Drunkenstein edge towards Pink Floyd on a slower tune, undergoing percussive reinforcement all the while, as if desiring to Connect Four. Ace stuff.
Despite white masks concealing their identities, the next act, Dr Slaggleberry, are a sonically multicoloured, highly dextrous three-piece. Songs hasten with incessant drum salvos, and slow down in squalls. Bracing, emotionally unkempt math-rock is sprayed with instrumental metal magic. When the music verges on fracturing, Slaggleberry regroup and lay a stoner glaze over the core. Their set is relatively short, but if anything that guarantees greater impact.
The band hotly tipped tonight are Zu, but is it worth the wait? Successful hardcore is like a game of Twister. Instead of treading on each other's toes, you create heated geometry, where peaks are only restricted by parts already present, and troughs have to find alternative routes. Conversely, Zu are so mechanical I was expecting WD40 intervention. Stymied by long foreplay between drums and guitar, their product shapes up more as Evian than hard water on tap; free of impurities, but consequently bland.
It's only when they take a subversive initiative that they shine. As a hyperactive Tool, they blend oddball fusions, sometimes somewhere on the road to Squarepusher's later, rockist moments. Grooves dodge complacency like running through revolving doors on a 100 metres sprint. Then during a languid duel session Zu stop for a second to realise the PA is rambling. If they could always be as unpredictable, then it'd be hats off.
Zu: MySpace
Dr Slaggleberry: MySpace
Drunkenstein: MySpace
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