Has it really been almost a year since Conjurer released Unself? So large was the meteor-sized crater of choking post-sludge and untamed meatiness of their third album that it still feels like only yesterday that they set it loose upon the world. Since appearing on the scene in 2018 and instantly becoming one of the most talked-about bands of the metal town, Conjurer is a name you hear whispered in dark corners, over bar stools, and mid-headbang. The Warwickshire four-piece have spent the past year on all kinds of stages, from Damnation festival to their own UK headline tour, out in the States and then back for a slew of European festivals, culminating in their support slot on this tour with Gaerea.
Every breakdown, every tunnelling surge of speed, and every screaming drawl from vocalists Brady Deeprose and Dani Nightingale hits like a crack in your oxygen tank. Bassist Conor Marshall windmills so consistently throughout their set it’s like he’s the last renewable energy source standing in a bitter dystopian world. While they may create an atmosphere of harrowing isolation, it’s not without a serious, stirring punch. When Dani introduces ‘Let Us Live’, it’s to announce that this one goes out to the trans community. The melancholic guitar intro is as much a lullaby as it is a lament and softens the blow of the sheer emotional weight dripping off Dani’s shattering vocals. Brady speaks only to welcome the crowd and then thank them at the end, before drifting off the stage. In an interview with Kerrang Magazine last year, Dani said of their album Unself, “It’s about all the other people who don’t have the opportunity to get up and scream onstage. I want this to give those people a voice, essentially.” And that is exactly what they do tonight.
Arriving at Nottingham’s Rescue Rooms and Stealth just around the corner from the famed Rock City, it’s immediately clear that Mangata is a festival run by true enthusiasts. The exterior of the venues is wrapped in a queue that snakes towards the wristband exchange and a hive of activity. Festival staff and volunteers are on hand to make sure everyone gets in as quickly as humanly possible, and we feel like we’re very much in safe hands. On entering the exterior courtyard that sits outside the entrances to both Rescue Rooms and Stealth, the vibes are absolutely immaculate: food is sizzling away to one side, iced coffee is giving people life on the other side, and the bars are beginning to fill with those ready to get on it from the off. With a line up to blow the socks off anyone with even a passing interest in alternative heavy music, this promises to be one hell of a day.
“Who’s Mike?” a punter asks facetiously as Michigan’s Liquid Mike lurches into their set. Rude indeed, but let’s be honest: you can’t really blame someone for that question. Whilst Liquid Mike have swiftly become a household name in alternative soundtracked dwellings on their respective side of the Atlantic, the band have remained a relatively unknown and niche proposition on our shores. Such a thing and previous questions might be redundant after this tour, though; Liquid Mike sounds wonderful tonight.
Playfully jaunting through a set mostly composed of material from their most recent record, Hell Is An Airport, Mike and his liquid peers sound totally agreeable tonight. Offering a breezy and warmly nostalgic set that pulls motifs from halcyon powerpop, naughties emo and the kind of alt rock that can only come from the dejected youth, it’s essentially impossible not to be endeared by both the band’s time-warping sound and its malleable delivery. Sure, the band’s chirpy Korg synth riffs, recurring trumpet and playful pop sensibilities may not be what comes to mind when thinking about what a support for Drug Church would entail, but there’s no denying those here are loving it. There’s little surprise why this band has swiftly become such a dotted-on act in the States, and should this set be any indication, they’re likely to cultivate a similar following over here in Europe come the end of this first tour.
The show kicked off with Lover’s Leap, a one-person band that learnt well how to push the limits of sound to create the most distorted noise possible. Their style mixed controlled chaos with wild vocalisations that really grabbed your attention.
What was particularly impressive about Lover’s Leap was their use of cassette tapes to generate background noise that accompanied their intense screams. This created a strong connection that felt both familiar and bold. Before you even had time to settle in, their 20-minute set was already over. This sonic journey invited everyone to immerse themselves in the chaos, marking the true beginning of the experience.
Although South Wales “evilcore” crew Slighted Hand have crossed the border to be with us tonight they’re no strangers to Exchange, having opened things up for rising punk stars Knives in the venue’s basement back in May. Having already shared stages with acts like [BRICK] and Denial Of Life, Slighted Hand’s first year together has certainly been an eventful one.
Walking on stage to a group of violent moshers, Slighted Hand live up to their evilcore moniker with downtuned, dissonant guitars and fierce vocals. A highlight of their set is the track ‘Skill Issue’ which adds blast beats and screeching vocals backed by cutting bass and chugging distorted guitar riffs into their signature sound. While they may be the newcomers to the Bristol scene this four-piece have a bright future ahead of them.
It’s a lovely, warm Saturday morning. The pleasant sun is blessing a slightly damp Fernhill Farm. Everyone has just enjoyed a fun, albeit ever so slightly awkward live edition of 2 Promoters 1 Pod with special guests Johannes Persson and Julie Christmas. Never mind all that though, it’s time for filth. The musical equivalent of the contents of the portaloos just outside the PX3, metallic sludge slingers Pleb are the polar opposite of the cleansing summer winds breezing across the farm right now. But for those inclined to music at its most thick and disgusting, it’s perfect listening. New clods of filth from their freshly deposited record Grease Trap sound utterly revolting this gentle morning, and with the soft winds carrying their screeching feedback across site, it’s only at ArcTanGent where a band this dense can go down an utter treat first thing in the morn. A delightful torrent of highly pressurised sludge as ugly as the sociopolitical landscape that exists beyond the fields of Fernhill.
Despite only being confirmed a few weeks before the festival, newcomers Reclus.É more than show that they’re a welcome addition here today. The new project by Soren Bryce of tummyache and Daniel P Carter of everything else under the sun, Reclus.É’s set is one of righteous political post-hardcore that’s aflame, tempered by moments of delicate fretwork and chemistry between the two band founders. Of course, with Reclus.É only having two songs officially out (single and set opener ‘Muted TV’ and a cover of Portishead’s ‘Roads’), it’s clear that most of this admirably small crowd are here out of sheer curiosity or seeking a place to eat lunch away from the heat of the rising sun. But regardless, it’s impossible not to see the promise of this emerging band, especially with their impassioned sound carrying a level of organic experimentation. Much like previous sets at the likes of 2000 Trees and Brixton, today shows that Reclus.É’s upcoming LP will propel this band to playing to larger crowds than the one today come its release later this year.
