Live Review - The Horrors, The Garage 16/12/2011

Teens draped in disgustingly oversized jackets and emo fringes were absent from The (usually leather-heavy) Garage queue tonight as East London hipsters waited in line to see the Horrors. With 80s icon Princess Julia, who you wouldn’t even see queuing up to get into an exclusive Vivienne Westwood after party, patiently standing in the cold on a Friday night...you knew this was the place to be. Crowds pushed through the doors at 10pm, leaving the commercial promotion of the gig itself completely defeated. They were there for the music, an intimate gig that anticipated spilt beers, flying drops of sweat and unrestrained moshing.

Psychedelic grunge band TOY open the show, looking as if they just stepped out of a 70s themed party, long hair draped over their eyes - it's a miracle they found their way up the stage stairs unhindered. As soon as guitar strings began being gently caressed, and drums softly hit, thoughts of a depressingly cold winter drown in a whirl of musical warmth. The band pulls the crowd in with ease, as people sway in time to the carefully strung riffs, the grunge element still present. “If I was on LSD right now, I’d be having a fucking awesome trip, seeing rainbows and shit,” I heard an audience member beside me say. He was right, the music seeping out of the speakers at that exact moment was other worldly, synths creating a third dimension to the sounds. You feel like you’re elsewhere, a place denounced of doubt and deprecation.

The clock was nearing midnight, and people pour out to smoke a quick cigarette before the Horrors were to brace the stage. “Faris passed out the other night, he wasn’t meant to play tonight, they had to cancel his other show at Brixton,” a tall blonde says in the smoking area, hastily looking around to make sure no-one else heard. On re-entering the venue, sickly green and blue lights force people to squint as they focus in on the Goth Geniuses making their way up on stage. Turning round to face the audience, Faris belts out “It’s Christmas time motherfuckers”, keeping it together well considering his poorly state. With little space to move, people pack themselves like sardines in a can, readying themselves to embrace the iconic wrath of the band.

The euphoric “Changing The Rain” opened the set, fusing different rattles and strings, materialising into a musical movement. Lyrical depth locks the audience into silence. For that one moment, it felt as though you and the melodically perfect music, are alone in the presence of some musical equivalent to God. ‘I can see through you’ moves everyone to sing in unison. The only thing absent at this point in time, are lighters in the air, and being in the middle of an empty field, a tender breeze swaying with the crowd. Faris ends the set on a strong note, the crowd in sheer adoration...maybe the new punk ‘thing’ is to have your lead vocalist sick instead of fuelled on drugs. It certainly worked in their favour tonight, that’s for sure.