Gig Review: Every Time I Die

Every Time I Die, Newcastle Riverside, 14/11/15

“The world is too incredible to bring such ugliness into it.”

Lyrics taken (out of context) from Every Time I Die's 'No Son Of Mine'. Nights like tonight make me realise that this is true; whatever ETID singer Keith Buckley meant when he wrote that line, to me it means something entirely different in the sweaty wake of one of the best nights I've ever spent watching live music.

I get emotional about music. I'm not ashamed of it; music can hit me on an emotional, visceral level and when I love something, I really love it. Now I love ETID and have done for years. But this, my third experience of seeing them live, managed to transcend being just another night when a band hits the town (like their parachutes failed, as the song goes...), and managed to be an emotional, draining and cathartic experience.

Now tonight didn't have anything to do with what happened in Paris the night before. Other than my honeymoon and Yohan Cabaye's unfortunate transfer, there are no real connections, spiritual or otherwise, between Newcastle and Paris. But when Buckley announced only a few minutes into the show that “this is proof that there is good in the world” in response to the crowd's enthusiasm and energy, he and the crowd alike made the night about positivity, togetherness, and enjoying something you love alongside people who feel the same way.

An early curfew forced Icelandic opening band, Muck to waste no time in walking on, tuning up and blasting out a wall of black metal riffs. They look too young to get served at the bar and are perhaps the skinniest people I have ever seen. The BM riffs gave way to the kind of death n' roll that the likes of Kvelertak and Trap Them do so well. One tune has an almost Dinosaur Jr/early Soul Asylum slacker vibe to it and breaks the set up nicely. They were sloppy but earnest, enjoyable and really fucking loud. Best of luck to them.

Superheaven were up next and I'm sorry to say that they both look and sound like the last 25 years, musically speaking, didn't happen. I'm convinced that they played at least 2 covers of Nirvana's 'Rape Me' and one of Stiltskin's 'Inside', such was their commitment to the loud-quiet-loud grunge dynamic. In fairness, a good number of people seemed to enjoy them, judging by the nodding heads in front of me but it struck me as being very plodding and mid-tempo throughout. They played well, seem to have two good singers, but I'm afraid that when your bass player is enjoying your show more than anyone else in the room, you're doing something wrong.

It goes dark in the Riverside and four members of ETID walk on and go into a pretty impressive introductory riff. Keith Buckley bounds onstage full of energy and starts making the universally-recognised hand sign for 'circle pit'. He needn't have asked; within seconds of opener 'Bored Stiff', The Riverside is chaos, grown men throwing themselves into each other with gleeful abandon. As always, ETID and really tight and Buckley is a fine showman, his voice much improved from the last time he graced our fine city.

New songs 'The Great Secret', 'Thirst', 'Idiot' and 'Decayin' With The Boys' were showcased in 17-song a set which represented just about every album. Conventional wisdom dictates that when a band starts to get some attention and a bit of popularity, having released some shall we say 'softer' songs ('Wanderlust', 'Revival Mode'), that their records start to take that direction. Not so ETID. Latest album From Parts Unknown is a brutal blast of punk fury, the tracks fitting right in alongside older songs 'Ebolarama' and 'Floater'. ETID show their versatility with more straight up rock tunes like 'No Son of Mine', 'The New Black' and a stunning 'We'rewolf' (dedicated to a distinctly lycanthropic member of the audience) before hitting us with the one-two combo of 'The Marvellous Slut' and 'Underwater Bimbos from Outer Space'. Closing with 'Moor' and then 'Indian Giver' we're left with the refrain of “So I make a vow to forget you,” hanging in the air, oddly beautiful after all the carnage.

That they played so well was extra impressive, given that for 90% of the set the stage was so crowded they could barely see each other. People were grabbing the mic from Buckley and screaming along, giving it their all, and it was amazing. Complete strangers were throwing their arms around my shoulders to join in with some air guitar or sing the next chorus. I have never in my life seen a show with so little distance between band and audience, both physical and in terms of status. There was no 'us and them'; they encouraged us to be onstage, to take the mic over and to look after each other. We did.

There was an overwhelmingly positive atmosphere, as summed up by Buckley: “when people ask us what was the craziest show we ever played, they'll ask were there people fighting and blood everywhere? And we'll say, No: it was this show in Newcastle where they all turned out to be the most hopeful, optimistic, positive motherfuckers we've ever seen.” In the wake of something fucking awful happening in the world, which might make you think that something so trivial as a rock show might not matter anymore, this made everyone there feel like a rock show was the only thing that mattered. That togetherness and unity, the sheer positivity of it; all differences went out the window and for about 70 minutes nothing mattered but riffs and vocal chords. That is why I have an emotional connection to music, and if you don't then you won't understand, so please go read something else.

He's right: the world is too incredible to bring such ugliness into it.