The Dillinger Escape Plan
Thanks to the council's seeming determination to prevent people driving into the city by having cars having roadworks on every route in, I arrive at the Waterfront in time for Primitive Weapons' penultimate song. Two songs ain't enough to really judge a band but what I heard was... not bad. They call themselves post-hardcore. I am not sure about that, what I heard was straightahead NYHC circa 1986. Not life-changing but OK.
I'll be absolutely honest, I'm here for Ho99o9. Back in December 2015, Ho99o9 played upstairs in the studio to a couple of dozen people and blew the fucking roof off. If anything, tonight ups the intensity, with one of the band diving off stage and starting a mosh pit before the first song has even started. With live drums and samples mixing classic NY and DC hardcore with punk, metal and industrial hip-hop, this is a rave as envisioned by Hieronymus Bosh. Insanely brilliant, Ho99o9 are just superb tonight and, from where I am stood, go down a storm.
Before tonight, I knew nothing about The Dillinger Escape Plan. I hear that this is their final tour and I can't claim to be exactly heartbroken. Yeah, they can play (and then some) and are tight as hell. Yeah, the guttural screams are enervating. Yeah, they can write a tune. Yeah, there is a huge amount of energy. But Dillinger's incredibly technical mathrock/post-metal seems, I dunno, a tad soulless, one-dimensional even, and leaves me a bit cold, leaves me wanting some variety and some humour.
The vast majority of audience clearly disagrees. The band are treated like conquering heroes. Every squiddly-widdly solo is greeted like it will save the planet. So, what do I know? Music is a personal thing. As much as I admire what Dillinger do, I don't like it and I don't enjoy it.
