The Garage is rarely as civilised as it is before Mouth Culture come onstage. Sure, there seems to be a lot of crossover between the Ghost fandom and enjoyers of spiky alt sounds from Leicester, but this is a refined crowd that have sold out the venue tonight. Thereās ironic ties and sensible shoes, andĀ clearly weāre looking for the finer things when weāre dedicating our Friday night to checking out new music. Luckily, Mouth Culture are just what weāre looking for: the perfect bespoke mix of grunge, britpop and attitude.
Beauty School on support are teen maturity shining with millennial polish, and as big a draw as the headliners with their casual charm and humble pop punk rejoicing. āOakā feels like theĀ peacefully drifting conclusion to Hundred Reasons combined with a reassuring blush of Alkaline Trio, and their riffs scatter into our eager attention. Their new album, āFrom Now Onā seems like a pitch towards a brighter tomorrow if āOld Rotten Teethā is anything to go by, an understated ray of screamed introspection that bounces and meanders like weighted dandelion fluff.
Suddenly, weāre flipped from day to night. Mouth Culture are here, our phones are up and weāre jumping to the punchy tones of ‘Sharkbait’. Vocalist Jack Voss leans and rolls his eyes, flinging out āDead In Loveā to clapped rapture. Weāre tightly wound through the emotive fizzing of ‘Little Wednesday’ and the sandstorm of bass within ‘Happier’, but its new song āPicking Wings Off A Butterflyā that makes our excitement crest, their smoother confidence spreading choppy riffs like butter over burnt hopes. The moments of darkness are so intriguing: while tilling a deeper groove through open crystalline tones on āParadiseā, a loneliness creeps into Vossā voice which could so easily be turned to greater depths. We bounce our way through the maturing character that their sound is forming into, a girl with a spilling cocktail glass on someoneās shoulders squealing as she sings her heart out.
āRemember when Mouth Culture sold out The Garage and lit the whole fucking place up?ā Voss asks rhetorically. āThat time is now!ā ā15 Missed Callsā does indeed light it up, with a depth in their dreamlike waves and a yearning in their stretched chords before the slippery āDonāt Pull Upā offers release. Mouth Cultureās metal side is just as fun as their britpop end, as we learn through āOn and Onā, the song which reveals the ferocious reverb mosher lurking inside them. Theyāre happy to reveal their sensitivity too through āJohnny Cold Shoulderā, its sugary delicacy andĀ howls turning away from chaos. Whichever lens you want to view Mouth Culture through, theyāre still full of DIY grit and āNo Shameā serves as a chanted nineties update, ushering in the afterparty with a dark rave riot stomp that reveals the power at the heart of their multidimensional sound. āRatbagā is now an underdog anthem with a big crash and a reclaimed celebration vibe, firing a shout from front to back.Ā
Thereās not a polite or refined way to sum up Mouth Cultureās sold out outing. āShots firedā is probably the most succinct way, if the shots weāre referring to are from a cannonball. Itās a show thatāll send ripples out through the scene, andĀ firmly re-stamp Mouth Culture as the intriguing up-and-comers to catch next time they inevitably sell out their next venue near you. When that time arrives, itāll be much bigger than this corner of Islington.
KATE ALLVEY