Live review: Cancer Bats, In Case Of Fire and Attack! Attack!– The Pyramids, 31st October 2008

I always kind of pity the bands that end up on the support roster for tours like this. For Attack! Attack! and In Case Of Fire, supporting a household name like pop-thrashers Funeral For A Friend looks great on paper, and probably does them a world of good as far as exposure is concerned… but it’s a pretty thankless task. For an imported act (fresh from Canada, kids!) with a reasonable profile like Cancer Bats, it’s even weirder, because they’re musically so out of place on tonight’s bill.

Kudos to Attack! Attack!, though – they’ve got the will to succeed. It must be hard as hell having to take the stage while the door staff are still only a third through processing the queue, and to then play your socks off as virtual unknowns to an audience that’s primarily concerned with finding its friends or (in the case of the small percentage of legal adults) getting a beer in. Showing the indomitable Welsh spirit that has served tonight’s headliners so well, Attack! Attack! kick off fast and solid and belt out twenty-five minutes of poppy rock that wipes the floor with a lot of similar bands.

That’s not to say they’re particularly original – in fact, Attack! Attack! are remarkable for their ability to sound like a song you’re sure you know but just can’t place – but it’s the refreshing lack of whiny privilege, overwrought screaming and rank insincerity that makes them stand out from their peers. Their music is never going to change the face of the world – or even music itself – but the lively delivery and memorable hooks are a pleasant enough way to spend half an hour.

It’s plain that the big venues are still a bit scary for them, though. Attack! Attack! graft hard to wring out a little audience participation from the kids, but they’re trying a little too hard to the point of sounding a little bit desperate, like a magician at the birthday party of a child who’d much have preferred just to watch some videos and eat cake. But you can see them learning their stagecraft up there; if Attack! Attack! don’t become a bigger name in the near future, it won’t be through lack of application.

By comparison, Irish three-piece In Case Of Fire are restrained and quiet on stage, arriving with little ceremony and a notable lack of ebullient “Hey, Portsmouth, how’re you doing!” They open up with a riffy little number from the lighter end of the post-hardcore spectrum, and Steven Robinson sets to with what is plainly a fantastic singing voice. Straight away, In Case Of Fire are musically more interesting than their predecessors, and are sporting that quasi-formal uniform look that’s starting to gain in popularity at the moment: in their case, it’s black shirts with a thin white armband on the left sleeve.

Right after their first song it’s clear that something’s amiss up there, though we do get a self-effacing introduction before In Case Of Fire start their second tune. But after that there’s another confab around the drumkit, and the first mention of technical problems. To their credit, they try hard to work around it, but whatever has gone wrong isn’t making their sound any clearer, and the little audience attention they inherited is rapidly ebbing away. “Did you ever have one of those days?” asks Robinson, rhetorically.

It’s a shame. In Case Of Fire seem to have a brisk line in sparse angular post-hardcore pop with some clever little guitar lines (and those soaring vocals!), but they’re visibly struggling with their kit troubles and lack of response. Presumably as a result, their set seems to end a little earlier than it should have done. These things happen, but I don’t always feel as bad for the band as this; it’d be nice to catch In Case Of Fire in a smaller venue without the technical problems and see what they can do when they’re a bit closer to their comfort zone.

The same goes for Cancer Bats, though for very different reasons. They’re tonight’s odd-men-out, standing out from the polished pop leanings of their tourmates like a Lemmy wart on catalogue model. You see, Cancer Bats play proper metal – loud, shouty and raw. They’ve also gone the whole hog on the Halloween costumes, and they seem a bit shocked to find that we reserved Brits haven’t turned up dressed as extras from B-movies old and new. “Did you guys come out to party, or what?” asks frontman Liam Cormier.

To be fair, an older audience might have made more of an effort (as Halloween is increasingly mutating into the alternative Christmas/New Year’s for the twenty-something set). But then an older audience would probably have been a little more lubricated than this horde of teens, and as a result be a little more in tune with Cancer Bats‘ Southern-flavoured bar-room metalcore. Their energy puts the kids to shame, too, with plenty of running and thrashing about on stage punctuated by chugging riffs, harmonic squeals and Cormier’s howled vocals

Trouble is, you can hardly hear what’s going on. The scooped-mids sound of metal always suffers terribly at the hands of the acoustics in The Pyramids, and Cancer Bats have a bad case of it, sounding like a big bassy mush of rumble punctuated by crashing cymbals and the occasional lead lick that manages to leap through the undergrowth like a firework on a foggy night. Compared to the punchy definition of their recorded material, it’s more than a little disappointing.

Cancer Bats give no quarter to circumstance, though, playing like demons and working the crowd as hard as they can. There are definitely some fans in the audience – enough to get a few little circle-pits stirred up after a bit of coaxing – but they’re still struggling against a combination of apathy and unfamiliarity from the young ‘uns. I mean, look at them! Beards, zombie facepaint and sweat… they’re a far cry from the take-’em-home-to-meet-yer-mum of the other supports. And that gruff voice, seemingly from Canada by way of a lengthy sojourn in a Texan bong-smoking lodge… but the real problem becomes apparent when Cormier bellows the line “never grow old / never die!” Neither thought has ever occurred to ninety percent of this crowd, bless them.

But by dint of sheer energy and effort alone, I suspect Cancer Bats are making a few new fans tonight. They close with “Hail Destroyer”, the title track of their latest album, and through the rumble you can sense the sheer audio power these guys must have in a club-sized venue with friendlier geometry. Give them a crowd of legal drinking age, and I’ll bet they could cause a riot.