To some, it was nearly four years in the making; to others, it was beer in plastic holders. However, it's a fair guess that all who attended this show left with their sense of male or female pride drooping lower than was previously thought possible. Of course, I can only speak for myself…
History repeated itself when the Glasgow thrashers Red Snowman opened for Young Heart Attack. Though boasting a clean-cut would be child star as a singer, Red Snowman weren't slow in reminding us how angry they are by means of a frustration fuelled set of thrashing rock. As a rule, no band should have three guitarists; if it didn't work for Iron Maiden, it sure as hell ain't gonna come off for you. This band hail from the Gamble, Gamble and Drever school of posing, and as such, offer little in the way of sparkle.
Russell Brand recently found himself in a list of Britain's worst-dressed people. Given that, it's probably not advisable to have the singer of your band strike any sort of resemblance to him. Too bad if you're a member of The High Society then.
Image issues aside, the band - as if to make amends for their singer's embarrassing behaviour - delivered crunching riffs and catchy licks, which allowed their sexually amnesiac leader to counter nicely, with his vocal style fluctuating between metrosexual crooning and witch-like cackling. Despite this, it's hard to fault his commitment and passion for performance. Defying all the odds, this band of misfits delivered a set that clearly appealed to the audience, and will appeal to others the same. Dedicating the last song to "Mr. McGee" wasn't the worst thing they could have done, either. A band to watch out for in the teeny-goth scene.
The opening bars of "Mouthful of Love" signalled the return of the most interesting band to emerge out of the great Texas live scene. What people saw tonight was a band in transcendence. The raw, gonad-squelching power of the opener was followed by "Hell on Earth", a new track that offered a similar punch but followed through with a neat swipe. Since their reformation in late 2006, Young Heart Attack have clearly honed their talents, and the increased use of Jennifer Stephen's male-melting vocals was as smart a move as the band could have made. In times before her flirty banter with guitarist Chris Hodge has worked a treat, and little has changed. A new drummer and bassist have arrived, and any changes apparent were too insignificant to detail.
A combination of old favourites and new offerings filled the set; most notable was the adrenaline rush dealt on "Misty Rowe", a track so full of life than even the most cumbersome individual would find himself pounding his fists to. The band got a rounded reception, but deserved more yet. A thrilling encore culminated in a crisp delivery of "Tommy Shots". What more could you want?
Young Heart Attack play music that will either take years off your life, or kill you. Either way, it is music that is loud, stupid, and excellent. There is no middle ground here. Music like this makes Morrissey cry and that is fine by me.