With no seating and no bar in the room, the Joseph’s Well band room really discourages the early arrival. So, not for the first time, we have a good band up first and a piss poor attendance up front. Even I miss most of it - which is stupid because CON’TOUR are a vintage quality guitar and drums band with a hint (says Helena the Media Studies student) of Nickleback, in the great American tradition of being able to sing play and move about like they were born to it. Together for just a few weeks, we’ll be watching out for further progress.
ANTIHERO are in the middle of one of those tours that real journalists call “punishing”. They certainly don’t look as box fresh as last time I saw them. They’ve got road dust in their hair this time and the sound and delivery has matured from an effective ska-punk by numbers to a savvy, confident, eight to the bar onslaught. They have powerful bass and drums and a full guitar sound supplemented by the occasional sample. There’s no easy label now and they’re more obviously “like ANTIHERO”. Which is just as it should be. ANTIHERO are carving themselves a distinctive niche in the UK rock wall of independent fame.
Their range is good, from the tender quiet song in the middle of the set to the raging noise mongering chaos of the finale. They‘ve dragged half a roomful down from the bar up the stairs and they’ve done a great job of warming up the evening for Orka, to whom they give awed tribute in more than one between-songs spiel. Only fifty more gigs like this to go, and they’re building a very tidy fan base for any evil corporation to buy into later in the year. ANTIHERO will not let you down.
ORKA have always stirred up the Leeds faithful - into frothing rage or ecstatic drooling. They pose and flaunt; they act and dress like entertainers (the shame!); they have radio-friendly songs with a bit of danger; they have Coyle Girelli with his arm in the air like Bono. And loads of girls in the audience with good hair have their eyes fixed on the band.
ORKA have hauled themselves from the gutter of a school mates band called Paint Box, through the mire of local exploitation nights and battles of the band. They’ve been to London and back, they’ve thought long and hard. They’ve dragged in ex-Cube drummer Pike and they’ve written and rewritten their repertoire till it stings and crackles. Their breakthrough into serious rock credibility came with the recording of "She", which is now fully established as the definitive ORKA sound.
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The newest songs are juddering and big, with Coyle’s voice leaping octaves and searing the emotional edges. “Your Vegas” is the finest of all. They all have big guitar lines and Pike drives the whole thing with powerful precision and some very handy vocal harmonies when required. Their shameless appeal to the audiences' raw feelings remind me of Soft Cell (who could do it) and Gene (who couldn’t). ORKA are the real thing, with guitars and the deadly added ingredient of good tunes.
Mid-set, "Stay" comes in with a tidy guitar phrase, then surges up to a huge drum crescendo and Coyle does that self sacrificial pose at the mike, and proceeds to devour the front two rows for the rest of the song. "Sweet Melody” is rock elegy par excellence, softening 'em up ready for the adolescent blast of joy that is "She" with that pulsing rhythm and classic harmony chorus that can double as misery or elation. Very nearly wrecked, they finish on the straight up and down rawk stomp of "Dead Men Walking", an echoed obsession with the rock and roll life that we first met in the crowd pleasing opener "Crush". And by this time, crush is just what we have in the room - rammed from front to back. They love it.
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