Live Review : Static Dress + Jools + The Throwaway Scene @ The Deaf Institute, Manchester on April 16th 2022

The thing that endlessly fascinates me about the modern music scene is the infinite amounts of crossover and genre splicing. Back in my day (here I go again), there were definitive walls and uncrossable distinctions between different scenes. You had pure versions of the distinct musical categories and you didn’t cross the beams. There is an emerging generation that seems comfortable with bending and distorting all those conventions that we felt were sacrosanct. What that leads to is a much more vibrant and fluid music scene where it is Ok to pull influence from a whole host of different aspects.

None of tonight’s three acts are traditionally “Metal” as the Kerrang obsessed me of yesterday year would recognise. But all have a place in our world. Openers The Throwaway Scene go for a starkly minimalist set up of drummer, singer and bass player. The rapidly increasing crowd initially takes the stance of standing as far back from the stage as humanly possible, however the singer instantly commands that they move forwards, and they mostly listen. What we get is quite a ying and yang between vocals and backing music. Their singers voice is clear and high-pitched melodic, bringing to mind indie outfits of the pre-Brit Pop days (one for the kids there). But the music itself is heavy, pounding, quite post punk and (inevitably) very bass led. The starkness of the set-up means that their sound is rather raw and primal, which is in complete contradiction to the sophistication of their vocals. The crowd interaction grows during the set, with actual clapping along to the music in the last song. Overall, it makes a rather interesting experience, and I will keep my eyes out for them.

Even though I have never heard of them, there are Jools shirts everywhere. Meaning that they have already caught the imagination of the crowd, which bodes well. They are a seven-piece band and emerge in matching zebra print attire. I am immediately drawn to thoughts of The Fat White Family Band and the chaotic antics on stage certainly feels familiar. This is very much authentic post-punk with some modern-day flares. The mix of spoken word and bouncy sung sections works well, even though it continues to remind me of bands that I have seen before. Whilst Jools maybe ploughing a furrow that has been done many times before, they are doing it really well. They have captured that primordial excitement of staying just the right side of disorganised. They are hectic, frenzied and incredibly exciting. The crowd lap it up and when Mitchell Gordon rips his shirt off you can hear the audible screams. They may struggle for originality, but they are still rather brilliant.  

There is a buzz happening around Static Dress. This show has been upgraded from the Star and Garter and they have (almost) managed to sell this place out. As soon as they emerge the floor becomes one all encompassing pit as the whole place goes wild. They may be packed onto a small stage, but they have still brought a show with them, as five old style tellies are dotted around the stage and are streaming their endeavours via a back of the room camera. Musically Static Dress are essentially re-inventing and re-vitalising Metalcore. They have kept all its vibrancy but removed all the pomp and posturing. Essentially, they have jettisoned all its safety valves and created a frantic and corrosive variant that has regained its danger and vitality. 

The room feels pulsating and alive. The release of their debut album, “Rouge Carpet Disaster” may well be a month away but the crowd already seem to know every word to every track. There is something really communal going on, with the previous perceived notions of band and fan divisions blurred. The stage belongs to the audience as much as it does the band and the constant flurry of stage-divers proves that. Static Dress have followed While She Sleeps’ business model and have gone DIY. They self-release and they self-finance and you can feel that sense of ownership. Static Dress belongs to their crowd, and they revel in every moment. They have the choruses and the rampant riffing, but most importantly they have the connection. And with this sort of bond with their following, the world is their oyster.