By Amélie Peters, Music Sub-Editor
One might have thought the crowd would slowly build into the chaos and electrified energy their gigs tend to possess, but no. The frantic pandemonium was instant, the mosh pit filled the venue and pulled in every unwitting audience member.
Opening the set with an ode to disillusionment, catharsis and laughing in the face of the advertisement, 'The Game' was the perfect opener. Described in a press release as "a mantra for a nation of landlords', post-punk seems to be obsessed with the slimy money grabbers.
Alex Rice, a man whose charm and laziness should be at odds with one another walks on stage in what he describes as 'travel pyjamas', pyjamas I might add with a designer's name splashed up the leg. Rice's reason for the tired attire was, as he said, 'it's raining, and I couldn't be bothered to walk to the van'.
With audacity and confidence only the singer of 'Lander' should be allowed Rice made a slightly bizarre request - for our clothes. Slightly less perverted than it sounds, Rice asked for some spare clothes to wear as he felt underdressed in his designer joggers. In less than a minute jackets, tops, cardigans, a not small amount of jewellery was strewn across the front of the stage.
Leaning into the mic stand, Rice surveys the audience, tantalizing, pouring every ounce of seductive charm into each movement, his smile wickedly charismatic, but there's a little something like disappointment. It does strike me unusual behaviour from someone with such thoughtful lyrics to be so brazenly confident, the real question being is Alex Rice a stage persona.
The disillusionment etched across his furrow; Rice didn't contain his obvious dismay for long - 'it's a bit small here'. The contrasting venue sizes previously posted on the band's social media sites and the jump down from their previous visit to Bristol where they played the 02 academy, suggests a mix up in venue. That and Rice's not to subtle, I thought we were going to be in the other room.
Whilst the venue size seems to have been a letdown, the obvious joy at the ravenous crowd throwing themselves on stage and the carnage of the gig itself seemed to reignite a fire behind the bands previously disappointed eyes. Going on to say that Bristol had been one of the best gigs of the tour.
Mary and the Junk yard provided a flawless opening set to the gig, the nuanced lyrics and soft girlish voices providing a contrast to the lively and male dominated Sports team.
In a post on Instagram the day after the gig, lead singer Clari Freeman-Taylor exhibited a torn ear lobe courtesy of the sports team mosh pit.
Rice as a front man is everything an indie-punk band could want, providing a Bez (Happy Mondays) esc role, he diverts attention from the obvious shyness of the brilliantly talented Rob Knaggs.
Glasgow a city known for its ... energetic crowds, Swg3 a gig location in the heart of the city has a very special list of rules and suggestions for touring bands. Rice recollected a few of these for the Bristol crowd - If the crowd starts to build towers out of people, stop the music, tell the crowd that your thankful for their support but they must get down.
Naturally cheered on by the band, Bristol created the highest tour of the tour yet, and with only the London date next, it's probably safe to say Bristol maintained the record. With a tower three people high made up of around nine people climbing on top of each other, it was a sight to behold.
Lander, the opening track from deep down happy is a rarity in a Sports team setlist. Fortunately for Bristol and my well-being (I would have been devastated if they didn't play it), the crowd was blessed with Rob Knagg's soulful baritone. Written in stream-of-consciousness, the song tells the ironic tale of a commuter hypocrite in a joyously expressive and overtly pointed manner.
Another of the Glasgow venue rules, was the crowd are not allowed on stage. Again Rice, the devil on the shoulder of every gig attendee declared decorum off the table, declaring an amnesty on gig goers on the stage. Naturally half the audience ended up on the stage.
The point at which it became clear security could do absolutely nothing to prevent the carnage, also happened to be one of my favourite moments of the show. One of the afore mentioned stage hijackers, choose both the wrong moment and the wrong people to attempt to crowd dive onto.
Most of us stood in the close vicinity collectively decided, nah not holding up this guy and took a step out. Most of us except my friend, who it would seem is a little slow on the uptake, but you have to forgive him though, he is from Clevedon.
The man, and to give context - was not a small guy, dove superman style directly onto said friend, essentially tackling him in the head. A visual photograph that will stay delightfully etched in my memory for all time.
The tackle did end up unfortunately (or fortunately for my amusement), taking out a few more people who proceeded to fall onto of the two on the ground forming a human pile. It was probably at this point that security should have jumped in, but I think by this point they had resigned the crowd to their collective fates and gone for a smoke.
I will admit I was a little slower than I should have been pulling up my friend, I was just really enjoying watching him be squished - I found it very cathartic as he is an incredibly annoying person.
I am all for the phrasing of artists and an appreciative clap or whoop, however I do draw myself respect line at bowing. Alex Rice entering the pit met with a sea of bowing rugby players. It's nice to see the Rugby team display a little respect even if it is for another man.
Finishing the set with a new song 'Maybe when we're thirty', lyrically poetic, the significantly slower tempo of the song in juxtaposition to the rest of the set was incredibly affecting. An ode to ageing and the development of relationships as you grow, was far from the wise-cracking cynicism of previous albums.
Rice as he sung, took on a level of genuinely mellow sadness, perhaps a crack in the facade. The song, its eloquence and worldliness, if not evident before displayed the raw intelligence of the writer and perhaps points to a new direction for the band.
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