Supporting the likes of hard rock revivalists Royal Blood is one thing. But when faced with the ardent admirers of Canadian dance-punk cavaliers Death from Above 1979, most noise that would pervade from any opening ensemble would be insignificantly digested. However Turbowolf are unusual. On the face of it the Bristolian alternative act probably sound more likely to feast on a diet of spotted eighties hair metal whilst scoring an unbalanced Frank Lupo series than creating a sidelining marriage of crunching distortion soaked sound-scapes. Thankfully for all parties involved the latter happened and culminated in a mammoth passage of metal at Manchester’s The Ritz.
‘A Rose for the Crows’ – launched with an evocative gramophone recording – was brutal. The unifying buckled melodies of ravelling bass and vehement guitar spliced consistently creating a soundtrack befit of the crown busting audience indulging it. Puncturing ferocity spread itself in abundance throughout the skeleton of Turbowolf’s chief compositions ‘Ancient Snake’ and ‘Rabbit’s Foot’. Breakdowns of ferocious melancholy patched with power patterns of metallic guitar brutally; slitting the ears quickly with intense snapshots of epileptic chaos that filtrated as the barbaric sound fornicated with the glowing ardor of the venue’s blinding illuminations.
Vocalist Chris Georgiadis represented a man dominated by the jerking disorder; slamming his body into the battered sequencer on stage before screeching into another rousing hook heavy chorus. Georgiadis was possessed; demanding more from his newly acquainted Mancunian family; ordering the Tuesday audience to dance because it was Friday. Behind the bombast however, Georgiadis’ vicious tone would collocate with softened glances of serpentine like vocal lines.
‘Solid Gold’ saw this insight formidably. The blues ravaged undertone to his utterances conjured likenesses to early Zeppelin meets Wolfmother as the remaining members of the four piece battered itself through stinging rounds of broken metal progressions. The track personifies Turbowolf’s attempts at a traditionalist single and along with ‘American Mirrors’ – alight with dirty masses of wavering, contorted noise, electronic anarchy and crumpled bass – demonstrates the Bristolian’s maturation from a feral metal troop to psychedelic lynchpins. ‘Two Hands’ – released April 6th – will be the proof.
‘Let’s Die’ felt wrong. Fluctuating synths drenched in brash reflective ambience refused to diminish until it imploded. And much like everyone’s customary lust for corruption, it was so right. Much like Turbowolf. Everything about them is terrifying. But ultimately offers the perfect antidote to any mundane existence.