DEAFHEAVEN / YOUTH CODE | LIVE REVIEW
Tramshed, Cardiff, Wed 26 Apr
Deafheaven arrive for their first show in Cardiff on an unseasonably bitter April evening – the cold perhaps going some way to explaining the turnout, with the Tramshed half full/ half empty depending on your outlook. The crowd’s numbers are sadly not increased by the befuddled gig-goer who turns up 24 hours early for the Tinariwen show but declines to take a punt on Deafheaven, despite the door staff’s best efforts.
Those who have turned out provide a muted response to tonight’s openers, Los Angeles’ Youth Code, a duo who mosh about gamely to a soundtrack of pounding, if derivative, industrial noise. Vocalist Sara Taylor’s “fuck yeah”s and “that’s what’s up”s provoke no little eye-rolling but there’s no doubting her conviction: she’s a blur of impassioned movement throughout the pair’s 40-minute set. Her bandmate, Ryan George (think Frank LeBoeuf in brogues) adds to the energy as best as he can from behind a synthesiser, twiddling his knobs ferociously, but fundamentally the two struggle to make much impact on a large stage in front of a small audience.
Deafheaven, by contrast, fill the space convincingly, thanks in no small part to their towering frontman George Clarke. Lurching long-limbed and lantern-jawed around the stage, Clarke is a charismatic figure, gurning and throwing shapes like an MDMA-enhanced Jack Skellington, and is the band’s only real focal point as he bounces between statuesque bandmates.
Opening with the metallic crunch of Brought To The Water, the first track from last year’s New Bermuda, before launching into Baby Blue, the set is as packed with crowd-pleasers as can be hoped for at a black metal show. Cuts from the band’s breakthrough record, Sunbather, are also aired and a cover of Mogwai’s Cody complements the band’s own material well.
Not ones for much by way of stagecraft, the end, when it comes, is abrupt: Deafheaven close on Sunbather’s title-track, bow their heads and exit. Their material is strong enough that they just about get away with their austere approach, and Clarke is a convincing frontman, but the lethargic demeanour of most of the band means that this is not an evening that is likely to have converted anyone who was previously on the fence.
words and photos HUGH RUSSELL