Kerrang! (UK) - - Lives - TOM SHEP­HERD

“Come a lit­tle closer.we don’t bite that hard,” says Steven King in his thick Ir­ish drawl. This early en­cour­age­ment to a slightly ner­vous front row ac­counts for most of the syl­la­bles that make their way out of the Fangclub front­man’s mouth be­tween songs tonight, but he and his band seem any­thing but shy. In­stead, theirs is a set-up that craves at­ten­tion, feed­ing off any scraps of shock and awe from the crowd.and those re­ac­tions ar­rive in abun­dance, partly as the trio’s tem­per­a­ment seems to ex­ist only in two sep­a­rate states: fully erupt­ing, and on the brink of fully erupt­ing. No sooner is Steven slouched in a trance-like state, his eyes screwed up tight like he’s con­cen­trat­ing on lyrics writ­ten on the in­side of his eye­lids, than he’s burst across the stage, his gui­tar swing­ing loose from his neck.the songs them­selves – taken largely from last year’s Bullet Head and Coma Happy eps – are drenched in ’90s nos­tal­gia, feel­ing more Seat­tle than the group’s na­tive Dublin, as they re­ver­ber­ate across the low ceil­ings of this base­ment.these grungy pat­terns prickle like sun­burn, as the set cli­maxes with Steven play­ing Bullet Head in the au­di­ence – who are now fully in­volved, by the way. It’s an im­pres­sively fe­ro­cious set for a band so young.

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