Rocker (feedbot)
Platinum Member
We experienced the first pathetic snowfall of the year in the capital this morning, so naturally it felt apropos to round off the day with something fiery – the kind of music to make you emphatically aware of the blood coursing through your veins. Since Hot Milk entered their “rage era” this summer, they have become more than just “an emotion”, as they proclaimed last year. They’re on the best kind of pop-punk rampage, and we’re so ready to feel their burn.
Cassyette opens, embodying the same boiling vibe, and the siren drops some seriously enchanting grit. New song ‘Oops’ slips between noughties girl anthem and the shred power of pure YOLO, before we’re dragged into ‘Ipecac’, the bass excavating both a pit and a determined singalong. ‘Boyfriend’ inhabits the space between daydream and nightmare, revealing Cassyette’s softer side. When she screams and leans down to egg on a pool of moshers, the steely core of Cassyette’s sound is revealed, and we’re already having a top evening before we even get to the headliners.
Hot Milk are pure kinetic energy, sustaining a sense of speed throughout every second of their set. Opening with ‘Hell Is On Its Way’ feels like a restrained starter, but Han Mee’s brash charisma kickstarts the fullness of their sound. “Where the fook is my big fat gaping hole?” She jokes to the opening pit as ‘Swallow This’ feels like an ominous future crashing into reality, each line a dare to stand tall to oncoming doom with middle finger raised. Their serious new stance makes older favourites like ‘I Just Wanna Know What Happens When I’m Dead’ seem charmingly naive, but part of the joy tonight is feeling the connection that’s spread from the band to us via their earlier material. From the balcony, you can almost see it spread across the floor; waving hands rising from front to back like the roots of a punk rock mycelium. When Mee drops into neo-Britpop anthem ‘Insubordinate Ingerland’, drenched from the bottled water she’s just tipped over her head, it’s obvious they’ve tapped into a communal frustration. The friendship and warmth between Mee and her Hot Milk other half Jim Shaw beams with every silly grin. It’s this power of forging bonds that makes the air buzz.
The treats we’re casually handed are not unexpected but are still gratefully received. ‘Candy Coated Lie$’ has received an update – “I fell out of love with it”, Mee explains, all fake solemnity; “it has been remade” – and it’s amazing, full of the bitterest of Enter Shikari energy, like it’s been strapped to a battery and shocked into a twice brilliant form. The vocalist wells up to talk to us as she takes in just how many people are in the crowd: “Is it alright is we have a little cry together right now?” She asks, before ‘Breathing Underwater’. The swirls of the melody pressure our skin into goosebumps; her brash and honest vocals sparking a singalong handover before the full band rejoin her onstage for a crashing finale.
It’s remarkable how deliberate Hot Milk have become. While they have a veneer of irrepressible anarchy, it’s clear when we see Shaw standing alone, backlit by glitching red and singing ‘Sympathy Symphony’, a song like a distorted metal sunset, we realise that their new sound bursts with dark maturity. That’s not at the expense of the pure fun they encapsulate, of course, and ‘Party On My Deathbed’ emphasises the “party”, prompting a nihilistic celebration of riotous energy. They never let their tension unfurl, even for a moment, as they send us off with ‘Chase The Dragon’, imbued by bittersweet notes of appreciation and hope. Whatever journey Hot Milk are on, we’re overjoyed to be along for the ride.
Kate Allvey
Photo: Greta Kalva
Cassyette opens, embodying the same boiling vibe, and the siren drops some seriously enchanting grit. New song ‘Oops’ slips between noughties girl anthem and the shred power of pure YOLO, before we’re dragged into ‘Ipecac’, the bass excavating both a pit and a determined singalong. ‘Boyfriend’ inhabits the space between daydream and nightmare, revealing Cassyette’s softer side. When she screams and leans down to egg on a pool of moshers, the steely core of Cassyette’s sound is revealed, and we’re already having a top evening before we even get to the headliners.
Hot Milk are pure kinetic energy, sustaining a sense of speed throughout every second of their set. Opening with ‘Hell Is On Its Way’ feels like a restrained starter, but Han Mee’s brash charisma kickstarts the fullness of their sound. “Where the fook is my big fat gaping hole?” She jokes to the opening pit as ‘Swallow This’ feels like an ominous future crashing into reality, each line a dare to stand tall to oncoming doom with middle finger raised. Their serious new stance makes older favourites like ‘I Just Wanna Know What Happens When I’m Dead’ seem charmingly naive, but part of the joy tonight is feeling the connection that’s spread from the band to us via their earlier material. From the balcony, you can almost see it spread across the floor; waving hands rising from front to back like the roots of a punk rock mycelium. When Mee drops into neo-Britpop anthem ‘Insubordinate Ingerland’, drenched from the bottled water she’s just tipped over her head, it’s obvious they’ve tapped into a communal frustration. The friendship and warmth between Mee and her Hot Milk other half Jim Shaw beams with every silly grin. It’s this power of forging bonds that makes the air buzz.
The treats we’re casually handed are not unexpected but are still gratefully received. ‘Candy Coated Lie$’ has received an update – “I fell out of love with it”, Mee explains, all fake solemnity; “it has been remade” – and it’s amazing, full of the bitterest of Enter Shikari energy, like it’s been strapped to a battery and shocked into a twice brilliant form. The vocalist wells up to talk to us as she takes in just how many people are in the crowd: “Is it alright is we have a little cry together right now?” She asks, before ‘Breathing Underwater’. The swirls of the melody pressure our skin into goosebumps; her brash and honest vocals sparking a singalong handover before the full band rejoin her onstage for a crashing finale.
It’s remarkable how deliberate Hot Milk have become. While they have a veneer of irrepressible anarchy, it’s clear when we see Shaw standing alone, backlit by glitching red and singing ‘Sympathy Symphony’, a song like a distorted metal sunset, we realise that their new sound bursts with dark maturity. That’s not at the expense of the pure fun they encapsulate, of course, and ‘Party On My Deathbed’ emphasises the “party”, prompting a nihilistic celebration of riotous energy. They never let their tension unfurl, even for a moment, as they send us off with ‘Chase The Dragon’, imbued by bittersweet notes of appreciation and hope. Whatever journey Hot Milk are on, we’re overjoyed to be along for the ride.
Kate Allvey
Photo: Greta Kalva