Rocker (feedbot)
Platinum Member
Five cities, one week, twenty three bands and six stages: Common Thread Tour is a masterpiece of logistics as well as hardcore. For one day, the whole of Camden Town has been taken over by music as glorious as it is brutal, and we’re here to catch as much as the Northern Line and our worn out Docs will allow.
Good honest screaming draws a serious crowd to the corner of the canal to check out Free Throw and their charming skate nostalgia blended with a bottle throwing attitude. ‘Pallet Town’ claws for a connection through hazy riffs and evaporated memories of past pits and we paste the quieter contemplative moments with joyful claps and heartfelt callbacks. New song ‘Mike Nolan’s Long Weekend’ clicks heartfelt and vulnerable in its warmth, and their rumbling bright survivorship burns away our mid-afternoon haze.
From one basement to another, Modern Life Is War prove there’s a darkness in the centre of town, their pounding energy like a runaway tank through the crowded Underworld. With juggernaut drumming and a powerhouse vocal performance from Jeffrey Eaton, they’re mixing the hardcore past and present into a foreboding sound. When he screams we’re going down it feels like a promise not a threat and their occasional moments of smoothness feel like a gathering storm. All in, they’re hypnotic: a cathartic harbinger of the evening to come.
All the way from Ontario to the industrial Roundhouse, The Dirty Nil’s stripped back style drags those who didn’t get into A Wilhelm Scream’s pub set through the garage squat past and into our renegade future. They’re Weezer’s more authentic cousins, with freedom-loving gang vocals and when they crank out ‘Rock n Roll Band’ we’re treated to a tale of twang and desperation. ‘That Don’t Mean It Won’t Sting’ shows off their back to basics attitude, but we really don’t need much more from these guys: we’ve already got an unrefined sweetness and a whole lot of rough-around-the-edges heart. ‘Lovebirds Collide’ springs through evocative romance, leaving us with a beautifully abstract sense of hope.
As Christian Holden shouts out the first line of ‘An Introduction to the Album’ he’s greeted with a chorus of raised fists. It’s an unexpected lovely track live, full of the pain of daybreak: each line murmured in return, the headbangs flowing on the drop. Three guitars are the catalyst for an avalanche of emotion as they slam their way through a set at today’s “incredibly sad festival”, with ‘The Scope Of All This Rebuilding’ carrying the energy of the moment when when you just have to smile through the aftermath of a tragedy. Scaling peaks of distortion laden shape beauty, The Hotelier have the chest-opening quality that we’re seeking today, rich with grit and tenderness.
The first pit of the evening cracks open as Comeback Kid raise the temperature with ‘False Idols Fall’. Ferocious, intense and an absolute jolt of power, they spit unity and irresistible punk aggravation. Their “punk rock festival singalong shit” lights the fire under the pit while frontman Andrew Neufeld stalks back and forth like a caffeinated tiger, stirring the pit fervour even further. He bounces foot to foot like a boxer, bringing the fighting spirit to us through turbo boosted old school hardcore and we’re giving it our all through their pneumatic bass of and the carnage it brings. They fill the arena with their blender of a hardcore sound as we scream back the chorus to ‘Wake The Dead’, smashing a crater of an impression into our memories.
At the other end of the spectrum from Comeback Kid, Joyce Manor serve as a poppier respite to the evening. ‘NBTSA’ smashes through with scratched solos and a lighter vibrancy, and the way their outsider chords strike into the crowd speaks of a wonderful transcontinental connection on ‘Beach Community’. There’s a crush at the front but the waves of their complicated honesty stretch through to each of us. Each song feels devastatingly brief, each teenage tripped line a testament to flash of an idea. Whether it’s wanting some backyard biro artwork on ‘Tattoo’ or the moment you’re ready to leave your crush behind on ‘Victoria’. Joyce Manor’s upbeat realistic snapshots are a thing of absolute joy.
‘Losers’ cements Spanish Love Songs as not only fan favourites of today but also as more than we ever realised. Today’s set exposes their raw edges as they’ve eschewed polish and synth in favour of playing with the hardcore end of their sound. A yelp and a growl lurk at the edges of ‘Clean Up Crew,’ with a solemn churchlike pause to appreciate each lyric before the crowd surfers remind us of the power of the human spirit. ‘Generation Lost’ switches between double speed and slow motion, playing with our emotions before we’re smashed by ‘Lifers’, a song whose petals open like gruff enlightenment. Between tough singalongs that twist into a worshipful bridge, and more optimistic notes that make us jump away our fears, Spanish Love Songs serve as a beacon of resilience when the night gets too dark.
Hot Water Music have evolved to become the finest version of themselves, to the point that we’re too shellshocked to dance until halfway through their set. Somehow ‘Drag My Body’ has become more desperate and bare, any free sonic space filled with Chuck Ragan’s monumental roar, but that’s not to discount Chris Wollard’s vicious vocal achievement on ‘Menace’ in the least. ‘Killing Time’ smashes onstage, its autumnal harmonics as road worn and lurid as a tour flyer. They’re still flying their flag resolutely, and slowly a pit coalesces by ‘A Flight And A Crash’ as they stomp through regret and blues and out the other side.
“It feels like we all made it to the end of a punk rock scavenger hunt today,” jokes Wollard, and maybe it’s that sense of victory that we’re absorbing with each bass burst. Their new songs like ‘Fences’ and ‘After The Impossible’ are just as brittle and deep as all the rest of their back catalogue, haunting and gripping as they lead us through chanted landscapes. ‘Remedy’ explodes, our tired bodies shaken awake by the drama and riffs and layers of hard won shout. Dave Hause jumps in on guest vocals for ‘Trusty Chords’ as we choir it back to him, the world suddenly glowing golden at the combination of two resolutely independent vocalists joining forces on one of our favourite songs.
As we stumble out, somewhat broken from a full day of slamming, we’re forced to contemplate the ‘Common Thread’ uniting the day. The sunlight of surviving through hardship permeates the day, as does a resounding sense of forging your own path through the frequently harsh nature of modern existence. Perhaps we, who spend the day running up and down Camden High Street, braving the queues and fuelling ourselves with plastic glasses of post-mix Coke, were the fabric that drew the day together before the tour rumbles on to the next town lucky enough to be treated to a day of magnificent punk.
Kate Allvey
Free Throw – Dingwalls
Good honest screaming draws a serious crowd to the corner of the canal to check out Free Throw and their charming skate nostalgia blended with a bottle throwing attitude. ‘Pallet Town’ claws for a connection through hazy riffs and evaporated memories of past pits and we paste the quieter contemplative moments with joyful claps and heartfelt callbacks. New song ‘Mike Nolan’s Long Weekend’ clicks heartfelt and vulnerable in its warmth, and their rumbling bright survivorship burns away our mid-afternoon haze.
Modern Life is War – Underworld
From one basement to another, Modern Life Is War prove there’s a darkness in the centre of town, their pounding energy like a runaway tank through the crowded Underworld. With juggernaut drumming and a powerhouse vocal performance from Jeffrey Eaton, they’re mixing the hardcore past and present into a foreboding sound. When he screams we’re going down it feels like a promise not a threat and their occasional moments of smoothness feel like a gathering storm. All in, they’re hypnotic: a cathartic harbinger of the evening to come.
The Dirty Nil – Roundhouse
All the way from Ontario to the industrial Roundhouse, The Dirty Nil’s stripped back style drags those who didn’t get into A Wilhelm Scream’s pub set through the garage squat past and into our renegade future. They’re Weezer’s more authentic cousins, with freedom-loving gang vocals and when they crank out ‘Rock n Roll Band’ we’re treated to a tale of twang and desperation. ‘That Don’t Mean It Won’t Sting’ shows off their back to basics attitude, but we really don’t need much more from these guys: we’ve already got an unrefined sweetness and a whole lot of rough-around-the-edges heart. ‘Lovebirds Collide’ springs through evocative romance, leaving us with a beautifully abstract sense of hope.
The Hotelier – Roundhouse
As Christian Holden shouts out the first line of ‘An Introduction to the Album’ he’s greeted with a chorus of raised fists. It’s an unexpected lovely track live, full of the pain of daybreak: each line murmured in return, the headbangs flowing on the drop. Three guitars are the catalyst for an avalanche of emotion as they slam their way through a set at today’s “incredibly sad festival”, with ‘The Scope Of All This Rebuilding’ carrying the energy of the moment when when you just have to smile through the aftermath of a tragedy. Scaling peaks of distortion laden shape beauty, The Hotelier have the chest-opening quality that we’re seeking today, rich with grit and tenderness.
Comeback Kid – Roundhouse
The first pit of the evening cracks open as Comeback Kid raise the temperature with ‘False Idols Fall’. Ferocious, intense and an absolute jolt of power, they spit unity and irresistible punk aggravation. Their “punk rock festival singalong shit” lights the fire under the pit while frontman Andrew Neufeld stalks back and forth like a caffeinated tiger, stirring the pit fervour even further. He bounces foot to foot like a boxer, bringing the fighting spirit to us through turbo boosted old school hardcore and we’re giving it our all through their pneumatic bass of and the carnage it brings. They fill the arena with their blender of a hardcore sound as we scream back the chorus to ‘Wake The Dead’, smashing a crater of an impression into our memories.
Joyce Manor – Roundhouse
At the other end of the spectrum from Comeback Kid, Joyce Manor serve as a poppier respite to the evening. ‘NBTSA’ smashes through with scratched solos and a lighter vibrancy, and the way their outsider chords strike into the crowd speaks of a wonderful transcontinental connection on ‘Beach Community’. There’s a crush at the front but the waves of their complicated honesty stretch through to each of us. Each song feels devastatingly brief, each teenage tripped line a testament to flash of an idea. Whether it’s wanting some backyard biro artwork on ‘Tattoo’ or the moment you’re ready to leave your crush behind on ‘Victoria’. Joyce Manor’s upbeat realistic snapshots are a thing of absolute joy.
Spanish Love Songs – Roundhouse
‘Losers’ cements Spanish Love Songs as not only fan favourites of today but also as more than we ever realised. Today’s set exposes their raw edges as they’ve eschewed polish and synth in favour of playing with the hardcore end of their sound. A yelp and a growl lurk at the edges of ‘Clean Up Crew,’ with a solemn churchlike pause to appreciate each lyric before the crowd surfers remind us of the power of the human spirit. ‘Generation Lost’ switches between double speed and slow motion, playing with our emotions before we’re smashed by ‘Lifers’, a song whose petals open like gruff enlightenment. Between tough singalongs that twist into a worshipful bridge, and more optimistic notes that make us jump away our fears, Spanish Love Songs serve as a beacon of resilience when the night gets too dark.
Hot Water Music – Roundhouse
Hot Water Music have evolved to become the finest version of themselves, to the point that we’re too shellshocked to dance until halfway through their set. Somehow ‘Drag My Body’ has become more desperate and bare, any free sonic space filled with Chuck Ragan’s monumental roar, but that’s not to discount Chris Wollard’s vicious vocal achievement on ‘Menace’ in the least. ‘Killing Time’ smashes onstage, its autumnal harmonics as road worn and lurid as a tour flyer. They’re still flying their flag resolutely, and slowly a pit coalesces by ‘A Flight And A Crash’ as they stomp through regret and blues and out the other side.
“It feels like we all made it to the end of a punk rock scavenger hunt today,” jokes Wollard, and maybe it’s that sense of victory that we’re absorbing with each bass burst. Their new songs like ‘Fences’ and ‘After The Impossible’ are just as brittle and deep as all the rest of their back catalogue, haunting and gripping as they lead us through chanted landscapes. ‘Remedy’ explodes, our tired bodies shaken awake by the drama and riffs and layers of hard won shout. Dave Hause jumps in on guest vocals for ‘Trusty Chords’ as we choir it back to him, the world suddenly glowing golden at the combination of two resolutely independent vocalists joining forces on one of our favourite songs.
As we stumble out, somewhat broken from a full day of slamming, we’re forced to contemplate the ‘Common Thread’ uniting the day. The sunlight of surviving through hardship permeates the day, as does a resounding sense of forging your own path through the frequently harsh nature of modern existence. Perhaps we, who spend the day running up and down Camden High Street, braving the queues and fuelling ourselves with plastic glasses of post-mix Coke, were the fabric that drew the day together before the tour rumbles on to the next town lucky enough to be treated to a day of magnificent punk.
Kate Allvey