Live Review: Drowning Horse, Mt Mountain, Puck, Fait, Kaan, Chris Cobilis

Celebrating the fifth anniversary of promotion company Life Is Noise, a jam-packed Bakery for a local bands-only line-up was tangible evidence not only of boss Dave Cutbush’s keen sense of which way the wind is about to blow, but also the budding avant-metal community he’s helped nurture.

Whilst the unwavering unpredictability of Chris Cobilis and raw sludge of newcomers Kaan made for a noisy kick-off, the evening took an arresting detour via the beguiling witchcraft of multi-instrumentalist Elise Higgins’ Fait. Playing tonight as a four-piece, Fait looked like art school shoegazers, but conjured music that was at times breathtaking, as zephyr-like undulations of effects inspired fleeting moments of rare beauty. The best qualities of Fait evade description but Ms Higgins clearly has something the world needs to hear.

Last time I reviewed PUCK I assured readers this would be the last time they would play as low as third on the bill, and just to prove how little I know that’s exactly where they played tonight. No need to despair though, as PUCK are a veritable riff factory feeding on animal rhythms, and whilst most of tonight’s performances veered towards the insular, PUCK’s garrulous drummer was keen to verbally stoke the air-punching barbarians at the front in between brawny, high tension missives.

Conversely, the less Mt Mountain do onstage, the more menacing they become. Compared to previous performances, they seem to have mastered a collective focus whereby their subtly disconcerting performance steadily builds with a paranormal intensity embodied by the cold stare of vocalist Stephen Bailey. With new songs Chantry and The Villain highlighting the way, the tremors of anticipation for their debut album, due to emerge later this year, indicate that Mt Mountain could be on the cusp of something special.

Drone-doom masters Drowning Horse are unmistakably the heaviest thing since concrete dinosaurs roamed the earth. In a set that coalesced into one seamless suite of nuclear thunder, tantalising snippets of new material were sewn in amongst riffs from their bone-juddering debut. As their lower tones rattled sternums, the floods of eviscerating feedback were so severe that onlookers had to physically check that their earplugs were really there. If they’re still around in 2020, Life Is Noise’s tenth birthday will be a seismic blast.