Rocker (feedbot)
Platinum Member
The Garage is rarely as civilised as it is before Mouth Culture come onstage. Sure, there seems to be a lot of crossover between the Ghost fandom and enjoyers of spiky alt sounds from Leicester, but this is a refined crowd that have sold out the venue tonight. There’s ironic ties and sensible shoes, and clearly we’re looking for the finer things when we’re dedicating our Friday night to checking out new music. Luckily, Mouth Culture are just what we’re looking for: the perfect bespoke mix of grunge, britpop and attitude.
Beauty School on support are teen maturity shining with millennial polish, and as big a draw as the headliners with their casual charm and humble pop punk rejoicing. ‘Oak’ feels like the peacefully drifting conclusion to Hundred Reasons combined with a reassuring blush of Alkaline Trio, and their riffs scatter into our eager attention. Their new album, ‘From Now On’ seems like a pitch towards a brighter tomorrow if ‘Old Rotten Teeth’ is anything to go by, an understated ray of screamed introspection that bounces and meanders like weighted dandelion fluff.
Suddenly, we’re flipped from day to night. Mouth Culture are here, our phones are up and we’re jumping to the punchy tones of ‘Sharkbait’. Vocalist Jack Voss leans and rolls his eyes, flinging out ‘Dead In Love’ to clapped rapture. We’re tightly wound through the emotive fizzing of ‘Little Wednesday’ and the sandstorm of bass within ‘Happier’, but its new song ‘Picking Wings Off A Butterfly’ that makes our excitement crest, their smoother confidence spreading choppy riffs like butter over burnt hopes. The moments of darkness are so intriguing: while tilling a deeper groove through open crystalline tones on ‘Paradise’, a loneliness creeps into Voss’ voice which could so easily be turned to greater depths. We bounce our way through the maturing character that their sound is forming into, a girl with a spilling cocktail glass on someone’s shoulders squealing as she sings her heart out.
“Remember when Mouth Culture sold out The Garage and lit the whole fucking place up?” Voss asks rhetorically. “That time is now!” ’15 Missed Calls’ does indeed light it up, with a depth in their dreamlike waves and a yearning in their stretched chords before the slippery ‘Don’t Pull Up’ offers release. Mouth Culture’s metal side is just as fun as their britpop end, as we learn through ‘On and On’, the song which reveals the ferocious reverb mosher lurking inside them. They’re happy to reveal their sensitivity too through ‘Johnny Cold Shoulder’, its sugary delicacy and howls turning away from chaos. Whichever lens you want to view Mouth Culture through, they’re still full of DIY grit and ‘No Shame’ serves as a chanted nineties update, ushering in the afterparty with a dark rave riot stomp that reveals the power at the heart of their multidimensional sound. ‘Ratbag’ is now an underdog anthem with a big crash and a reclaimed celebration vibe, firing a shout from front to back.
There’s not a polite or refined way to sum up Mouth Culture’s sold out outing. “Shots fired” is probably the most succinct way, if the shots we’re referring to are from a cannonball. It’s a show that’ll send ripples out through the scene, and firmly re-stamp Mouth Culture as the intriguing up-and-comers to catch next time they inevitably sell out their next venue near you. When that time arrives, it’ll be much bigger than this corner of Islington.
KATE ALLVEY
Beauty School on support are teen maturity shining with millennial polish, and as big a draw as the headliners with their casual charm and humble pop punk rejoicing. ‘Oak’ feels like the peacefully drifting conclusion to Hundred Reasons combined with a reassuring blush of Alkaline Trio, and their riffs scatter into our eager attention. Their new album, ‘From Now On’ seems like a pitch towards a brighter tomorrow if ‘Old Rotten Teeth’ is anything to go by, an understated ray of screamed introspection that bounces and meanders like weighted dandelion fluff.
Suddenly, we’re flipped from day to night. Mouth Culture are here, our phones are up and we’re jumping to the punchy tones of ‘Sharkbait’. Vocalist Jack Voss leans and rolls his eyes, flinging out ‘Dead In Love’ to clapped rapture. We’re tightly wound through the emotive fizzing of ‘Little Wednesday’ and the sandstorm of bass within ‘Happier’, but its new song ‘Picking Wings Off A Butterfly’ that makes our excitement crest, their smoother confidence spreading choppy riffs like butter over burnt hopes. The moments of darkness are so intriguing: while tilling a deeper groove through open crystalline tones on ‘Paradise’, a loneliness creeps into Voss’ voice which could so easily be turned to greater depths. We bounce our way through the maturing character that their sound is forming into, a girl with a spilling cocktail glass on someone’s shoulders squealing as she sings her heart out.
“Remember when Mouth Culture sold out The Garage and lit the whole fucking place up?” Voss asks rhetorically. “That time is now!” ’15 Missed Calls’ does indeed light it up, with a depth in their dreamlike waves and a yearning in their stretched chords before the slippery ‘Don’t Pull Up’ offers release. Mouth Culture’s metal side is just as fun as their britpop end, as we learn through ‘On and On’, the song which reveals the ferocious reverb mosher lurking inside them. They’re happy to reveal their sensitivity too through ‘Johnny Cold Shoulder’, its sugary delicacy and howls turning away from chaos. Whichever lens you want to view Mouth Culture through, they’re still full of DIY grit and ‘No Shame’ serves as a chanted nineties update, ushering in the afterparty with a dark rave riot stomp that reveals the power at the heart of their multidimensional sound. ‘Ratbag’ is now an underdog anthem with a big crash and a reclaimed celebration vibe, firing a shout from front to back.
There’s not a polite or refined way to sum up Mouth Culture’s sold out outing. “Shots fired” is probably the most succinct way, if the shots we’re referring to are from a cannonball. It’s a show that’ll send ripples out through the scene, and firmly re-stamp Mouth Culture as the intriguing up-and-comers to catch next time they inevitably sell out their next venue near you. When that time arrives, it’ll be much bigger than this corner of Islington.
KATE ALLVEY