Wednesday 15/02/06 iForward Russia!, Lucida Console, Whores, Whores, Whores @ Night & Day, Manchester

With some of the longest song titles known to man Whores, Whores, Whores could easily perform as a prog rock act, but their songs are more of a short, sharp shock to the system. Nodding to cult TV show The Mighty Boosh ‘Don’t Stare Directly Into The Moustache’ sees the singer screaming like a rabid dog mixing Lost Prophets with the Pixies at their most volatile. They bowl headlong into ‘Nipple Tassles Just Ate My Vibe’ with drums driving for the depths of hell, guitars thrashing into ‘Liver Pirates’ like a horror film monster that just refuses to die. The spiralling guitars of ‘Throughout History’ are like Trivium turned up to eleven, while the singers vocal chords sound their being shredded by a chainsaw, while being flayed alive. ‘I Like My Men How I Like My Furniture, Baroque’, takes them into the realm of Deftones, while ‘Reverse Werewolf’ sees them drumming so hard they may disappear through the floor. The punkier, Rancid style ‘Would You Rather We Made Kites’ sees them, knuckle bleeding, but happy. If prizes were given for inventive song titles alone, these boys would win hands down, for some though this crazy thrash metal ride could be to hot to handle.

Taking a leaf out of the Emo text book Lucida Console follow in the wake of the ever popular My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy. These young guns make solid guitar led tunes with foot stomping drums with a slight hint of aggression. ‘Comedown, Captain’ blends into the gentle shimmering guitars of ‘Words Look Better Magnified’. Turning slightly stadium rock they manage to sound affected and heartbroken, but at times a little childish. They redeem themselves wholeheartedly with the infectious bass of ‘Working Progress’. A definite anthem for jumping around in bedrooms when no-ones watching, it elicits a mixed reaction from the crowd. Following with a Fightstar style slice of perky punk pop they mingle upbeat guitars with bitter and twisted lyrics on ‘New Song’, before entering gingerly in hard guitar thrashing territory on ‘Level Headed’. ‘Downwards Covergance’ smacks heavily of Saves The Day, definitely not this crowds cup of tea. Swirling guitars descend into their usual energetic pop punk knock around. It may be a case of wrong time, wrong crowd but this band have a long way to go to prove themselves.

Launching straight in the tangled guitar mess of ‘Thirteen’, singer Tom jerks around like he’s receiving electric shock treatment. iForward Russia! have an edginess bordering on insanity that is compulsive viewing, like watching a car crash in slow motion. With people balanced on every available speaker, table and shelf the packed venue seems about to burst at the seams. Described as “convulsing punk-funk brilliance” ‘Seventeen’ is an almost evangelical experience. Sounding like Gang of Four on speed with a bittersweet Morrissey aftertaste the crowd raise their hands to the sky and start to lose control. ‘Fifteen Part Two’ channels more intense energy until the air is so electric is practically crackles. The stage seems too small to hold them as Tom paces back and forth like a caged tiger and screams as if exorcising hidden demons.   

Mixing outer space keyboards with frenetic guitars ‘Two’ melts into crowd favourite ‘Twelve’. People try to clamber on the stage, clawing at the bands feet, but most seem content to frug along, nodding their heads contentedly. Slightly slower, ‘Sixteen’ gives drummer Katie chance to hold her own on vocals. Practising a nice line in synchronised guitar dancing, bass player Rob and Whiskas (so called for the large mass of gingery hair blooming from his chin) play a blinder. ‘Fourteen’ sees all out chaos brewing as people attempt to dance on pedestals as Tom screams "I don’t care about today", then nearly succeeds in strangling himself with his microphone wires on ‘Seven’. New single ‘Nine’ is a full of catchy hooks with equal parts melancholy and bile mixed together to create volatile concoction. Final song of the ‘Eleven’ is nothing short of epic. With garbled lyrics and howls of anguish showing am man on the verge of despair the effect is heart breaking. As the noise spins and loses its grip on reality, then just as suddenly it’s gone. Like a howling tornado iForward Russia! sweeps away everything in its path. Where ever they go the crowd look set to follow and you can be damn sure they’ll know every word.