It’s
been a tough couple of weeks since my last gig, due to my Dad passing away,
which itself was preceded by a period of hospitalisation and hospice care for him.
As he always used to say, though, you just have to get on with it, so I was
grateful for this pre-arranged gig to finally crop up in my schedule, so I
could get on with doing what I love; seeing bands! And in tonight’s hosts,
excellent post-punk/ shoegaze noiseniks October Drift, an increasingly special
band in my books… A family holiday in Crete had unfortunately clashed with
their October 2022 tour promoting their sophomore album “I Don’t Belong Here
Anymore”, although I had managed to see them do a “hipster bistro” acoustic
performance at Rough Trade Bristol before boarding the plane (gig 1,249). Said
album was comfortably in the upper echelons of my Top Ten of 2022, replete with
shimmering soundscapes, strident power-riffs and skyscraping choral hooks, so
tonight represented a great chance to hear that new material, hopefully with no
horses spared, as it were…
This
tour took in the Thekla, albeit in an already busy gigging May, so I’d instead booked
for an early-tour trip over the bridge to the little-visited Newport, to Le
Pub, a new venue on my dance card. After a quick trundle down the M4 I found it
quite easily, close to the railway station and directly opposite an NCP! The
venue itself was a small Vic-sized room to the side of a bigger pub, and wasn’t
open on my arrival, but I passed the time chatting with a local lad about a £20
note which he’d lost! Eventually wandered in for openers The Pleasure Dome,
kicking off dead on 8 p.m. A trio of ginger mullets, rock tattoos, hair and
shirtlessness, they looked like a poor man’s Biffy Clyro, which was quite an
apposite comparison musically too, with plenty of changes of pace, strident
screamy vocals and general grungy noise featuring in their set, albeit also
with a bit of Kings Of Leon-esque Southern boogie thrown in. At best, their
punked-up set recalled that “difficult” early Biff and Primus; at worst it veered
uncomfortably towards incoherent and irritating Nu-metal. Still, seen worse,
and I liked the vocalist’s logic; “this is [October Drift’s] first time in
Newport; it’s up to you to make it a good one… or it’s up to them as well,
maybe… joint responsibility!”
Bumped
into October Drift’s wide-eyed, enthusiastic vocalist Kiran Roy by the merch
stand for a between-set chat; the tour has been going really well to date, but
they were anticipating tonight to be one of the quieter dates on the tour. Not
wrong there, as there were probably about 30 or so hardy folks present as the
band took the stage at 9… well, three-quarters of the band, anyway… I’d wondered
why the OD roadie had set up the lead mic to the back of the dancefloor, but
here was where Kiran delivered the opening number “Ever After”, solo at first
before the band bled in with low-key embellishment. However, things blasted off
good and proper when Kiran joined his compatriots onstage for an utterly
incendiary version of “Lost Without You”, the guitar boys all kinetic power and
movement, sawing away as if their lives depended on it, backed up more than
ably by drummer Chris, wild-eyed and pounding away mercilessly. Woah, what a
start!
Perhaps
taking their support’s advice to heart, October Drift were quite brilliant
tonight, affected by the disappointing attendance not a jot, instead setting to
their tasks with fearsome power, energy and clear-eyed conviction. By “Lost”’s
strident, dramatic middle 8, Kiran had already abandoned the stage for an
excursion into the crowd, the first of many tonight! Metronomic rocker “Webcam
Funerals” upped the pace further, “Don’t Give Me Hope” was a slower-burn
shimmer, highlighting their shoegaze side at least until the inevitable
cacophonous climax, and “Bleed” was a ticking countdown into a roaring stadium
rocker, all thunderous riffery and sky-scraping anthemic choral hook. The
swaggering, Pixies-ish “Insects” was another highlight, and the strident
“Forever Whatever” saw the front rows sway along to another brain-hugging hook.
“Thanks
for coming out! This is our first time in Newport; the first time we come to a
town or city there’s usually about 10 people there!” remarked drummer Chris
before the penultimate “Oh The Silence”, to which I couldn’t resist firing
back, “come to Swindon, there’ll be 11 of us!” “Silence” was another hard-riffing,
fist-pumping anthem to finish the set proper, at which point Kiran and Chris
took to the middle of the crowd to deliver a largely acapella and quite
beautifully heart-rending version of “Like The Snow We Fall” in the round. A
lovely way to end a stellar and dynamic 1 hour performance from a band rapidly
becoming one of the best “live” prospects around. A quick chat with the boys,
then a tired and slightly diverted (through Bristol) drive home saw me back in
the ‘don just after midnight. So, as Dad said, get on with it, and I’m glad to get
back on the gig trail, particularly with this marvellous October Drift
performance!