Vulvodinya buckle in for the ride
Pintglass were having a smashing time
DANI WILLGRESS
IT’S NOT EXACTLY what you could call busy for POSTMORTEM PROMISES, who open this evening’s deathcore triple bill. They’re scene veterans, returning from an 11-year hiatus earlier this year, and there’s definitely some ring-rust as well as a poor mix that often obscures the vocals. The enthusiastic front rows don’t seem to mind, though, and even if the material isn’t the most imaginative, the band deliver beatdown after beatdown and pig squeals aplenty.
Judging by the number of logo-emblazoned high-vis jackets, there’s more than a few people here for PINTGLASS’s self-styled ‘geezacore’. Meatheaded beatdowns and slams are the order of the day; their Stella Artois, lad-culture-meetsdeathcore would come across as contrived if it weren’t delivered with tongue firmly in cheek. If you want anthems for getting hammered, getting into barfights and crawling into work with the mother of all hangovers, Pintglass bring them in spades and the front half of the room adore them for it. Their patter between songs is all about –you guessed it – being a geezer and their dual vocalists often talk over each other, as do the other two with mics parked in front of them. It’s all chaotic and more than a little bit silly.