I was gutted earlier this year when the planned Black Midi pool tournament in Leeds didn’t go ahead. The perfect follow up to their ice cream crusade on the streets of London, selling frozen goods and copies of their new album ‘Hellfire‘ out of the back of a branded ice cream truck, the Brudenell Social Club was the pool hall destination, in between afternoon and evening performances.
Unfortunately the scheduled and rescheduled Leeds dates fell through, silver lining though – it did mean we’d get the chance to catch them a bit closer to home and in the process, finally get inside one of Manchester’s most exciting new developments.
Known for its original sprung dance floor and fab disco lit ceiling, in its heyday it featured performances from the likes of Jimi Hendrix and Tina Turner. Since re-opening its doors this year, the New Century Hall has already featured performances and appearances from John Cooper Clarke, Los Bitchos and The Charlatans. There’s no getting over the hall and the hypnotic ceiling lights once inside, and it instantly feels like such a special venue (though getting out of there later on had an unsafe feeling, the bottleneck approach something which feels like it needs addressing).
If you don’t want to pay £6.50 for a pint of Madri (we didn’t), you can relive your youth with a can of Red Stripe for two quid cheaper. With a red and white can in hand, we settled in for the support and loved everything about Dos Monos – a quartet out of Tokyo. Everyone else in the room seemed to be on the same page too, embracing the wonky hip-hop ensemble of fashionistas, the band cooking up a mad mix of Crack Cloud, The Pharcyde and Gravediggaz. With live sax too, they created a proper energy from on stage that filtered through the room – pushed even further at points in the set when the lad on the decks at the back joined the others up front to manically spit on the mic.
Confetti drifted down from the ceiling as the room filled up, no doubt remnants of the three-night Confidence Man residency from the week just gone. Lots of nippers were running around in their Black Midi shirts, buzzing and looking like they’ve all started bands about to sign to Speedy Wunderground.
Before too long, an elaborate Michael Buffer style ring announcement brought on “super colossal weight champion of the world” Black “Hellfire” Midi, highlighting their “3.5 million wins” (all by K.O.) amongst other accolades. The crowd were pitting almost instantly for debut album ripper ‘953‘, as the four on stage fired through the frantic first 60 seconds or so. The spotlight captured guitarist and vocalist Geordie Greep as he belted it out before the lights went haywire and the band wigged out.
I managed to get a good view of drummer Morgan Simpson to catch shotgun blast drumming in deafening ear-shot. He’s got such a great bounce to him as he plays, showing off his chops later on with a beefy drum solo, making it look, as with the others – bassist Cameron Picton and keys player Seth Evans – like it’s no sweat.
Greep flashed a cheeky grin at Simpson one minute, then he’s shaking his hips and boogieing as he played, the next minute reaching out a hand to the crowd before pulling it back into a clenched fist. Often he’s babbling a hundred words in one breath, like the mad bloke at the pub who’s got you cornered, or crooning over solo piano from Evans, like a mad bloke at a pub that does karaoke. His theatrics are a joy and the newer tunes really suit this, Greep captivating in his storyteller role.
I dig how they mix it up with the song structures – some jazzier, some slowed down, hushed, revved up. ‘Welcome To Hell‘ and ‘John L‘ – with their riffs terrace chanted back from the devoted crowd – come in stripped down before letting rip (into the Primus style groooove on the former, the math-madness on the latter), with proper doom-y, absolute garbled vocals. There’s a brief interlude towards the end of ‘John L‘, the band getting festive with an unexpected brief run through of holiday favourites ‘O Tannenbaum‘ and ‘Jingle Bells‘ as the crowd joyfully sing along to the melodies.
“Have fun – but not too much fun…” Suggests Greep with an exaggerated shrug, adding. “…So bear that in mind, you fucking idiots.” He moved onto bass and into the shadows as Picton took over for a number or four with an acoustic guitar – taking the lead on the heart-pumping acoustically driven ‘Still‘, then the frantic ‘Eat Men Eat‘, where his hand went like the clappers strumming that guitar. As it built and built, he screamed out the vocals, the lights flashing at its full-pelt conclusion.
From the manic to full on Prefab Sprout style lounge affairs and heart-swelling highs, an hour goes in the blink of an eye. As the lights went up after the final number, Greep gave us a rundown on who’s been sorting everything out behind the scenes (including “Crazy Eyes“, “The Wolf” and himself, “Grandad on the guitar“) before sending us off into the night with a final note. “Open your eyes and you might find the love of your life… Stay cheeky, motherfuckers.“
Like what you see? Why not stick around and check out the other articles and interviews!
Don’t forget to follow Birthday Cake For Breakfast on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter