How to know you are officially a "Mister Mental", headbanging, thrasher;

1. You bang your head furiously so that your brain turns 90 degrees and your hand eye co-ordination is never quite the same afterwards.
2. You stamp your feet viciously as if marching into war, only on the spot.
3. Lyrics are not sung; they are screamed/yelled/belched
4. Having people rub their armpits on your head seems like an honour
5. Black suddenly seems so very appealing.

Bear those in mind...

So there I was; a little twee indie, pinstripe blazer clad, Franz Ferdinand badge wearing, Gola owner in the middle of what would otherwise have seemed like hell if My Red Cell were not on the line-up. I was in a room, with about 200 goths/moshers/grungers/thrashers who would usually make me yelp and climb up a tree, making sure that my clothes didn't get too dirty on the way up.

WHY, OH WHY??

After having nearly been refused entry at the door, seeing as I was not on the guestlist, the night seemed to be getting off on a bad note. But succesfully entering and landing myself a spot on the barrier, I settled myself for the first of the two support bands this evening, Agent Blue. After hearing their fantastic debut single "Sex, Drugs and Rocks Through Your Window" on the radio, I had high expectations for the young Stoke-on-Trent 5-some. And they did not fail to impress, on the whole. Songs like "Monsters Monsters", "3 4 1" and "Snowhill" sounded like ferocious rock music that the likes of The Cooper Temple Clause would have been proud of. But if only how they looked and acted could have matched the standard of their songs. Actually, if only their lead singer wasn't such a wanker...that would be a more appropriate comment. Nic Andrews is his name and he should be discriminated against because;

a) He is not as good as he thinks he is
b) He has NO balance/co-ordination
c) He kicked the bass drum's microphone, breaking the bass drum
d) He has stupid hair
e) HE'S A TWAT

Shame...because otherwise they would have been superb.

Then it was the welshies turn to impress. My Red Cell look like stars in the making, they sound like stars in the making...they are possibly the coolest band in britain! "She's Leaving", played third, really added some balls to their set and gave it a bit of a late kick start which was well needed. Singles "Knock Me Down" and "In a Cage (On Prozac)" provided screechy vocals and pounding guitar lines that really got the crowd going. But it was set-closer "Dedication" that set their legendary status.

"Forget love and hate/Let's masturbate"

That was the line that lead singer, Russell Toomey, sang whilst his hand was shoved down his pants and as he was inviting his other guitarist, Adam Cook, to join with him. Absolute comedy! Highlight of the night in my humble opinion.

Now not having a setlist for the 80s Matchbox means I am not able to remember many of their songs, but I will try my hardest. Not being their biggest fan, but still a fan nonetheless, I wasn't too sure what to expect. I had heard "Mister Mental" and fallen in love with it's bouncy fun. I had heard "Psychosis Safari" and loved it's dark but brilliant tune. I did not expect them to be THIS heavy though! Their songs were so intense, each and every one of them, not even the introduction of an acoustic guitar could tone them down (stage 1, check). "Celebrate Your Mother" sounded like war on earth whilst new single "I Could Be An Angle" was near punk-pop perfection (stage 2, check). The opening chords of "Mister Mental" introduced possibly one of the best singles of this year so far with its punchy guitar riffs, bass line and chorus (stage 3, check). During nearly every song though, Guy would lunge off the stage and launch himself against the barrier to come and sing to us, many of the times he would be stood right on top of me (stage 4, double check and stage 5, loved the leather jacket). His unique, worbling voice sounded so much better when it was sung right above your head. "Psychosis Safari" was truly the highlight of the show though which got everyone moving in some form or the other...whether it being in a vertical motion, or convulsing on the floor somewhat like the cleary drug-induced Guy...who was foaming at the mouth and muttering things to himself all night. The drugs don't work kids!

So having completed all 5 stages of my headbaning conversion, I can't say it really felt right. All it took was a look at my white shoes and lovely blazer (which some bugger threw beer on...HE WILL PAY) to make me realise that indie is truly where my heart lies. Putting my earphones in and turing one the sweet, summery goodness of The Shins seemed like a welcome relief from songs about putting boys in pots and throwing them on the fire. But just for tonight, it was nice to experience something a bit more different and heavy. The 80s Matchbox have made shouty music sound good, no small feat, and they make it look oh so cool too. But then again if I had hair like them, I would probably be shouting a lot too.

Now, where's that Delays album?

Review by Jason Edwards

www.eightiesmatchbox.com

www.myredcell.com or listen to 'In a Cage (On Prozac)' in our downloads section & read reviews of 'In a Cage', 'Knock Me Down' & MRC's debut album '13 in my 31'

www.agentblue.co.uk