After a hasty scoot back home having realised I had forgotten my ticket (fortunately before boarding a train), I discovered I had just enough time for a speedy pint of one of Liverpool Organic’s brews at The Hub before heading into the Kaz, with the audience much younger than the week before (and most gigs, to be fair).
The support was a young woman called Georgia, making her debut in the city, who played drums and electronics as well as singing, while also visible through the dry ice was her bandmate Hinako on keyboards.
The sound is apparently post-grime, but to be honest it’s from a whole world of genres I’m only loosely familiar with so I’m struggling to describe it properly. However, it’s fair to say it wasn’t really my bag. One review I’ve read said she combines “elements of early 00’s grime, dub, post-punk and hip hop”, which is broad enough to suffice!
Many of the tunes were drum heavy (no bad thing), with several featuring Georgia’s screaming vocals. The highlight was certainly the final number, Move Systems.
I grabbed a can of Red Stripe while waiting for Palma Violets’ Liverpool bow. They kicked off with Peter And The Gun from second album Danger In The Club from earlier this year, with the set drawing pretty much evenly from that and their debut, 2013’s 180.
Bassist Chilli Jesson enlivened proceedings with his bouncing and borderline-naff dancing. Guitarist Samuel Fryer sported a rather odd backwards flat cap. Despite owning both albums, I’d never really noticed that they each sing lead vocals, although Fryer takes on the majority.
Jesson sang the Clash-esque Girl, You Couldn’t Do Much Better On The Beach, which was followed by the Libertines-sounding English Tongue, also off the second album. Those two bands are the ones that Palma Violets remind me most of, perhaps explaining why I like them but don’t absolutely love them, as neither of those influences are in my first division.
I never quite managed to get into this gig as much as I often do, partly because I was stood up the steps to avoid the flailing youths nearer the front, and partly just because I couldn’t quite shake the memory of their influences.
For some reason, sections of the crowd chanted “Yorkshire, Yorkshire” prior to Jesson singing possibly their best-known song, Best Of Friends, that was nominated as NME’s best song of 2012. A roadie joined them on guitar for the country-esque The Jacket Song, while someone else came out on stage to blow harp on Danger In The Club.
Tom The Drum quoted from Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds’ excellent Tupelo, with a pogoing mosh pit before the band quit the stage, seemingly never to return – I hung around for a good five minutes, but there was still no encore, so I departed.
Overall, not a bad gig but I suppose it reflected my general feelings towards their records – ones I enjoy without being able to be passionate about.
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Here is some of the music from the night on Spotify: