Live Review : Svalbard + CLT DRP + Heriot @ Yes, Manchester on November 23rd 2021

Yes’s Pink Room is as you would imagine it, very pink. It feels like some bizarre torture chamber designed to affront the victim with pastel colours. Shading put to one side it is still a strange venue. The stage is carpeted meaning that Serena Cherry’s DM’s leave indentations in it as she stomps around the stage. There is also a nice curtain (pink obviously) behind the stage that makes it feel a working man’s club (one of course with an odd taste in interior design). Finally, it is hidden away, sandwiched between two hipster bars. If you don’t know exactly where you are going it is incredibly easy to miss its almost concealed behind a pink (obviously) door.

Heriot are first up and it is immensely gratifying to see that the vast majority of paying punters have made the decision to turn up for all three acts, as opposed to just wandering in before the headliner. Jake Packer tries to tell us where the individual members of Heriot are from, but gives up halfway through their geographical role call and instead plumps for a generic ‘south’. He is shy and rather flustered between song mannerisms create a really interesting contrast with how the tracks themselves unfolded. When performing the actual material his bashfulness disappears completely and he is a howling banshee kicking seven shades of shit out of his bass.

Heriot are hardcore with a capital H. There is no nicety in what they do and they have no truck with melody or atmospheric breakdowns. This is intense, angry hardcore. Joe Strummer once wrote “This Guitar kills Fascists” on his instrument, Heriot have expanded the definition to include bigots, Tories and generally anyone that has pissed them off. The dual vocals (i.e. anguished screams) of Jake and Debbie Gough works well and the different tones of their cries provides a really interesting amalgamation of textures. Their set is short but is impactful, as they manage to get most of the room nodding along. In many ways 2021 is calling out for dollops of heavy, caustic, nihilistic anger and Heriot seem happy to oblige.     

I will be honest and say that CLT DRP seriously flummoxed me. I know where I am with Heriot’s existentialist rage, but I found myself rather floored by the diversity of styles coming from the stage. Second track in sounded like Amy winehouse fronting a “Downward Spiral” era Nine Inch Nails, then the next one sounded like Pink jamming with the Black Keys and then they shifted again and we were then at Kelis freestyling with Depeche Mode. Hats off to Daph, Scott and Annie for the sheer scale of diversity. Some of it worked for me and some of it didn’t (though it has to be said that the audience receive each musical left-turn with a reception usually reserved for headliners). What I would say is that it is highly refreshing to find a band this unafraid to stray off the path. They have an unbridled energy and coupled with the audacity to throw everything into the melting pot, they may well be one to watch, even if I still don’t have a Scobby what they were doing. 

Svalbard are at their best when battling adversity. They haven’t even made it on stage and the world is throwing everything it possibly can at them. Their van keeps breaking down, Serena’s voice is failing her, and their amps have decided to give up the ghost. Before they manage to play a note there is a frantic pit stop as their failing equipment is replaced with those belonging to Heriot. But as I said Svalbard are all about battling the elements and they come out of traps swinging. The set-list is stacked towards their more aggressive and combative numbers, with the introspective and “dreamier” material left back at home (potentially because Serena is evidently struggling with the fragile clean vocals). This means we get a frantic opening barrage of ‘Throw Your Heart Away’, ‘Revenge Porn’ and ‘Silent Restraint’, with the band throwing the obvious annoyance at the world into those three songs. There is such power and conviction in their delivery, both vocally and instrumentally.  Liam and Serena seem to be sharing screaming duties much more this evening (probably a precaution to save her throat) and there is utter furiosity and sincerity in the way that both of them spit the words out.

Serena always seems genuinely humbled and emotionally effected by the reception they are afforded, and tonight is no exception. Once the various photographers have done their business, she beckons us forward and the audience are only happy to oblige. ‘Currency of Beauty’ and ‘Clickbait’ are two of “If I Die, Will I get Better” finest points and live they form a tempestuous column of anger and indignation. They are pure protest songs, full of incensed exasperation. Despite all the barriers that life has decided to put in front of them Svalbard are so on form tonight. Sheer intensity personified. 

The evening ends with a beautiful rendition of ‘Open Wound’ where Serena asks the crowd to take on the track’s clean vocals because her voice is shot. As ever, her sheer honesty and openness is refreshing, and the song is given additional poignancy as a hundred plus voices bellow back the words at her. And then they gone, devastatingly decisive, direct, and once again proving that they are probably the most exciting young band we currently have in this country.