King Tut's Wah Wah Hut


It's surely too early in the new year to be throwing yourself around King Tut's. Surely. No it is not apparently.

We are barely out of the revelry of the New Year's Eve celebrations and one of the most promising and loudest young rock bands around Glasgow decided to headline at the iconic venue.

It was not too early for the faithful who packed the room to see three boys, barely out of their 20s, blaze through a forty-five minute set with all the exuberance and sometimes waywardness of youth.

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Having formed only four years ago, they are a sublime progressive metal work in progress.

Huge riffs, massive bass chords and earthquake drums are not peculiar to front man Craig McKenzie, and his crew but it is what they do with that combination that makes them one of the most exciting young bands around Glasgow at the moment.

Their latest EP, Symbolism encapsulates the idiosyncracy of their approach.

It's sometimes bordering on Lamb of God scream metal, other times daring to go lower key and tender when perhaps you want them to explode. Yes, they can meander but at other times you think they could actually be young punk rockers who love a good Black Sabbath/Mastadon makeover.

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It's not normal to confuse in the normally predictable world of metal and Megalomatic dare to.

The set opener Cesspit their new 'single' is indicative of what seems to be a determination to experiment with what they do.

It starts with a quiet strum and, good grief, tender singing before exploding into a torrent of soaring guitars and McKenzie's sing-growl. But as you expect it to detontate, there is some jazzy strumming and talk of river swimming. The song ends with a fresh riffola crescendo and a haunting cry of "I can't escape".

Where they ignite, is when the tempo is high and higher and even higher and when the hooks and riffs are on point.

There is a squeal, yes a squeal, when the opening riff chimes of by far the best tune off the new EP, A Yellow Car, A Golden Chariot are melting the eardrums, and it is not even the final song.

Its sheer power leaves no respite for the bodies flying around the mosh pit which has now started to get serious.

It helps that the bearded McKenzie's growling vocals have a distinctive Glasgow drawl, adding extra venom to their collective fangs.

McKenzie rarely leaves his position stage left in front of the microphone stand, but there is no questioning the intensity and power of this eardrum-busting New Year work out.

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They leave some of their best to last, an older song An Uncomfortable Sentence and the face-pummelling riff explosion that is Stan Darsh.

A second album beckons.