Nemesis To Go - Live: Mab

Mab
Maleficent
My Passion
Exit Avenue
Barfly, London
Sunday February 17 2008

Traditional rock 'n' roll values obviously apply at the Barfly. This ramshackle room above a Camden pub has the authentic none-more-black decor and the essential sticky floor - so sticky, in fact, that when I try to walk away from the bar after buying a pint, I find my feet have adhered so firmly in place I can't move. I'm all for traditional values, but a swift once-over with soapy water is good, too, y'know?

Once I've detatched myself (with great effort and a comedy squelching sound) from the clutches of the infrastructure, I make my way to the front, where a gaggle of enthusiastic teen-rockers are ready to give it up for the first band of tonight's metal-ish rock gig: Exit Avenue.

Youthful and boisterous, Exit Avenue wear High Street casuals and make a frantic alternometal-dance noise. They don't look particularly rock 'n' roll - on the contrary, they look like they shop at Primark, for heaven's sake - but they've got that thrash-it-and-bash-it rockin' attitude suitably nailed, and all their songs are fast, furious, and fizz like agitated Lucozade.

But wait a minute - did I say 'alternometal-dance'? Yep, and although that juxtaposition of styles might seem a little random, the Exit Avenue boys do indeed mash pumping electro-dance beatz with their frantic rocking. Full-tilt shouty metal anthems suddenly break down into VNV Nation-style EBM floorstompers, before the guitars kick in again and the rampant rocknoize roars back in.

It's a combination that works surprisingly well (even if one of the band's little synth-breaks reminds me of 'Spirit Of Radio' by Rush) and one I've seen being adopted by a handful of other bands, too. When the media suddenly discovers the hot new genre of alternometal-dance, remember who noticed it first.

For all that, I'm not entirely convinced by Exit Avenue. They come across as a bit too eager to please, a bit too much like a youth club drama project - 'This week, lads, we're going to play the part of a cool new rock band!' - but I suspect another year of touring will put a bit of authentic rock 'n' roll grit in their gears.

If we're talking alternometal-dance, here comes a band that has been doing that very thing on the UK gig circuit more extensively than most. Tonight My Passion swing through London again on what seems to be a never-ending tour - and they're a canny bunch for doing so much live work, for the gig circuit is where bands are earn their stripes and hone their chops, not to mention build up a fanbase.

Judging by the crush of bodies at the front, My Passion are doing well in the latter department, at least. Hairstyles and drainpipes a-go-go, the boys in the band hurl themselves about the stage while the fans hurl themselves about the moshpit in a symbiotic freak-rock frenzy.

And yes, the music is that weird-but-it-works combination of powerhouse metal riffs underpinned by walloping dancefloor beats and bubble and squeak electro. All this and exquisitely sculpted hairstlyes - verily My Passion are quintessential modern rock heroes. It's hard not to get carried away by the band's relentless, restless shape throwing and never-stop rock, and if the lads strike me as slightly too nice to exude any element of true rock 'n' roll danger, the fans are too busy moshing to fret about that.

Maleficent are an oddity in metal circles, and in many ways the odd band out tonight - and I mean that as a compliment. Odd is good, especially in the metal zone. Tonight the band tweaks the nose and kicks the arse of conventional, generic, metal with a multi-way collision of ballet and theatre, glamour and dirt, big boots and big riffs, high drama and high heels.

All this is set to the rumbling blast of a gutteral modern rock racket, but it's immediately obvious that a Maleficent show is not simply a run-through of the usual metal moves. Although I suspect many diehard rock-heads might find the band's theatrics OTT and tiresome, this is exactly the element that makes me sit up and take notice. As I often say (with varying degrees of conviction), I don't do metal. So, any band coming from the metal direction has to be different for me to pay 'em any attention.

Maleficent certainly pass the difference test. The bump 'n' grind, storm and stomp of the music is relentless and uncompromising, and if the vocals veer too often into the 'Huuuurrrggghh!' zone for comfort, what the hell. Maleficent aren't about comfort in the first place.

Lead vocalist, ballerina and all-round performance diva Martini, all eyelashes and froth in a white net skirt, throws a series of unsettling vogue-shapes and is ceremonially killed mid-song by her male co-vocalist, only to rise again when sprinkled with green glitter. It's a surreal pantoimime, as engaging as it's gloriously odd, and I wouldn't like to guess whether Martini is playing Cinderella or the wicked witch. A cover of Nick Cave's 'The Wild Rose' is unexpected but effective, the band putting some uncompromising guts into a song which, originally, was a bit of a crooner.

Interestingly enough, I notice that all the youthful rock kids who had flocked to the front for the first two bands have now been driven away. Paradoxically, I reckon that's a good result, because a band that can polarise audiences so effecively is a band that will, ultimately, make an impact. Maleficent certainly hit the target for me.

Mab Now, I believe I remarked up there that I don't do metal. And yet, here I am, waiting with genuine anticipation for Mab to come on - and Mab aren't just a metal band, they're a proggy-operatic metal band, a combination of styles which under normal circumstances would have me rushing for the exit, screaming in agony. I mean, Nightwish? You can keep 'em, matey.

But Mab - ah, now, Mab are different. Yes, Mab employ time-changes and the intricate arrangements of shameless prog. Yes, Mab's vocalist, the bafflingly-named Psycho Jeremy, gives vent to operatic swoops and hollers at the drop of a hat. And yes, all this is done within the context of full-on metal. But here comes the element that makes it work for me: Mab do all this while being TOTALLY PUNK ROCK.

Dressed in a style that makes it look like they've been pulled through Agent Provocateur's Granny-chic range backwards, the Mabsters take the stage with understated confidence, and proceed to rip it up with effortless style. Another band which seems to be on a never-ending tour (this gig is a one-off interlude in an extensive series of Italian dates), Mab have got their live show down to such a fine art that they can turn it on like a flamethrower any time they like - and tonight, they certainly do.

A mass of overdriven yet intricate guitars, a barrage of thunderous drums, and Psycho Jeremy's five-string bass shoving its elbows in at every opportunity, the music is a towering blast of powerhouse rock 'n' roll, which manages to be rough-edged and visceral and yet meticulously crafted and precise at the same time. Oh, and the vocals, naturally, are a sonic maelstrom in themselves.

A Mab performance is like watching a master jeweller making intricate carvings in concrete blocks. Massive and detailed at the same time, and executed with a disarming insousciance that makes it all look so easy. Peering over the monitors amid the moshpit crush, I see to my chagrin that my favourite Mab moment, 'Adrenalina', has been crossed off the set list, but 'Last Tango In London' (which really had to be included in the set of a London gig) is presrent, and duly hits the spot. Mab square the circle between prog and punk, and do it with bonkers brilliance.

Do we want more Mab-tangos in London? I say this: bring 'em on.

Essential links:

Mab: Website | MySpace
Maleficent: Website | Myspace
My Passion: Website | MySpace
Exit Avenue: MySpace

For more photos from this gig,
find the bands by name here.