As I put my jacket in the cloakroom, the lights go down and Black Foxxes open the night. A few seconds pass before they kick themselves properly into action and I become a fan. The vocalist isn’t half going for it. At times it feels like too much but I close my eyes and like what I hear. I put my cynicism aside and enjoy their set.
The band exit the stage and I take my first proper look at the crowd. From the sound of Black Foxxes and my experience of attending shows in ABC, I expect the audience to be mostly young women. I’m wrong. I feel like I’ve been hiding under a rock for the last few years. The scene has changed and I haven’t been around to notice.
Avril Lavigne interrupts my thoughts. Patty Walters dances on stage as if he is the skater boy we’re hearing about in his entry song. As It Is aren’t for me but the people around me seem to be having a good time. After the gritty, throat tingling provocation from Black Foxxes, As It Is with their dancing and proclamations of, “What the fuck, Glasgow!” go over my head. In saying this, I’m dancing so much I almost forget to snap for Scotcampus.
In the gap following As It Is and Moose Blood, I feel tingles run up and down my spine. I’ve been hooked on Moose Blood since seeing them on tour with Mallory Knox. It was a conversation with Glenn, their drummer, which prompted me to write about music. Following that chat, I’ve been emotionally invested in the band and their songs about coffee and love. They are The Notebook of pop punk.
They open with Bukowski and I lose my shit. My air guitar – that is strapped too tightly to my torso – is played with gusto. Like the 14 year old version of myself that would scream in Cat House upon hearing that first G of Welcome To The Black Parade, I find myself panting like a dog when I recognise the opening hook of Swim Down. Their perfectly played pop songs are the jam. Insert pray emoji here.
Just before Lower Than Atlantis start, an introduction interrupts the venue. Reminiscent of the “Pit Safety” spoof health and safety video played before Bring Me The Horizon at Reading and Leeds, the audio tells us to get hyped for LTA. I’m sceptical of what the introduction is aiming for but I stop caring once Shutdown by Skepta starts. This is their entry tune and I’m into it.
Their curtain drops. It’s a flashy show, quite literally. Behind them is a backdrop of lights, illuminating the band and the audience. Mike Duce points out that this is their only Scottish date on tour – we’ve got to represent our country.
Stays The Same brings the swagger that the night has been missing. The build up of drums and guitar makes the arena staging make sense. The night now feels anthemic.
To the left of me, there is a group of kids doing the Macarena. There are twelve of them going for it – all of them are having a good time. I smile knowing that not all shows have such a friendly atmosphere but I’m glad that tonight’s show does.
The dancing stops and all goes quiet for a few minutes. This isn’t going to be the last time technical difficulties halt the show. Mike says that anyone who is a fan of the band knows he’s a fucking weirdo and if we couldn’t tell already he’s totally lost his voice. Is that why I find his voice so raspy and sexy tonight? My bad.
Leaving him with an acoustic guitar and his sore throat, the band exit so Mike can play Deadliest Catch by himself. Without the added instruments, you can really hear how delicate his voice is. He winces as he strains to reach notes. Before the song has ended he’s thanked us three times. Regardless of what anyone thinks of their music, their determination to finish the show is extremely admirable.
Despite stopping several times because of Mike’s voice and other unnamed issues, the band push through. Lower Than Atlantis have ended their tour on a show they – and their audience – will never forget.
Want more? Read our Lower Than Atlantis interview.