Βι¶ΉΤΌΕΔ

Is there any band right now, anywhere in the world, as exciting a live proposition as Gallows? Saturday evening in the Limelight and that seems like a rhetorical question. Often gigs can seem sterile, a heartless transaction in which bands take our cash and goodwill, give us calculated performance and polite acknowledgement and then make for the safe haven of the tourbus and the next stop on the treadmill. Never with Gallows. They, and the select few like them, are the reason we keep going to gigs, keep buying records, keep believing.

The screech and scrape of 'Abandon Ship' is akin to a supertanker being dashed against jutting rocks, spewing its cargo fierce and righteous. The percussive assault of, the aptly titled, 'Kill The Rhythm' is intense, drums sounding whip-crack loud whilst guitars writhe and weep. And in the midst of the mayhem, a slit in the face for a grin, prowls a dervish with ginger-trim, Frank Carter. Tattooed and toothpick thin, he thrashes across the stage, anger and unyielding conviction propelling him in his crusade to recapture all that is vital and important about music.

Descending from the stage he brings the Gallows message into the audience, seeks a vantage point atop a railing and eventually grips onto a metal rod that runs the length of the ceiling and hangs upside down, all the time continuing to bellow like a man aflame. Around him pandemonium whirls, security trying to get Carter, urging him back towards the stage, fans crowd surfing left and right, bodies flung gleefully around the circle pit.

When Carter does eventually return to the stage he attempts to take a little bit of the audience with him, helping people clamber from the crowd to join him and band for the all devouring 'Orchestra of Wolves'. Guitar chords clatter like empty bullet casings hitting concrete, the drummer pounding piston like, the beat unwavering. As the song explodes into its volatile final stretch, the frontman slips from sight, leaving the Carter clones to carry the song to its close. We are left, limbs aching, minds blown and faith in music reinvigorated. Just another Gallows gig innit.

Francis Jones