"Bbbbbrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhhhhhrrrrppppp!"lunges the static-shock-attack-haired singer of Leeds noise musketeers SHUT YOUR EYES & YOU'LL BURST INTO FLAMES through the suffering, bleeding microphone, his ears no doubt oozing a painful substance concocted from years of having his frizzy bonce shoved up the insides of speaker tubes and shot with several high-voltage whizzes of screeching feedback and trembling, earth-shattering
rackets. "Bbbbraaaaarghhhhpppp!"Yes. You heard.
Shut Your Eyes & You'll Burst Into Flames do not write songs. No. They mutilate bits of crash test dummies, glue and staple them all together with ham-fisted barbarism, fit them with tortured voice boxes from horror-movie action figures and trip a fuse until the dislocated vocals are all squawking out of battered plastic heads, confronting the barriers of ultrasound whilst members of the band sadistically snap off all their limbs joint by joint. It's THIS painful; but in an entirely visceral, pleasurable way. They hurl together ravaged, damaged industrial chaos with the odd gasped, reflective moment of sylphide, luminary otherworldliness to rip apart something demonic, deranged and, ultimately, delicious.
BATTLE, then, have something of a challenge to meet, one which they shake a sturdy fist at but don't quite conquer.Blurting blood cell after blood cell of churning RED energy into each few minutes of sniper-eyed, shimmering, understated violence, Jason (wait for it, it's a good one) Bavanandan whips his elastane, olive-skinned self about like a greyhound on LSD having bunny rabbit dreams. Yet he still never quite manages to engage.
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Battle are slightly removed, moving in a climate of distant jousts and tender punches; where is the fire, the gas, the strength? There's something too smooth, too toned, too lithe about tonight's show - we have no armoured crustaceans crumbling from war torn helmets, no scabbing purple grazes, no deeply-entrenched gashes in the skin. They do, however, throw a mighty, flaming spear through everyone's tired, stretched limbs during 'Demons',creating a sensation that strikes right through to your palpitating lungs and shakes last years' ash and embers from your ribcage with glittering duels of guitars. Potent but not powerful.
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