“We haven’t practiced in a year or so,” laughs vocalist Jason Beebout before opening with ‘Lake Speed’. He’s very self-deprecating in his humour, and there’s a disconnect between his appearance and the desperation crammed into his throat as tightly as his band are packed onto the tiny stage. Tattooed fists punch the air, raising layers of translucent dust in each roar and twisting chord of ‘Clean Up The Mess You Made’. “The songs that we do know, we don’t know very well, but there’s a lot more that we don’t…please don’t hold that against us,” Beebout apologises again, nervous behind his oversized green tortoiseshell glasses, but there’s no need for him to feel anxious. If anything, his self-conscious attitude adds authenticity to the everyman statements in his songs. It gives the nostalgic razor wire guitar and vocals on tracks like ‘Dead’ even more of an emotional hit, like a note passed behind your back. 

New songs, like ‘Crystallised’ with its warmth and closeness in the celebration of solitary hope, are received well but it’s the rarely unearthed gems from the extensive Samiam archive which get the biggest reaction. ‘Capsized’ might be older than some of the crowd, but the years have refined their teenage resentment, giving an outlet to the screams which they and we have held inside us for too long. Our rich, discordant claps tie our collective howls together. 1994’s ‘Don’t Break Me’ is almost acoustic before it bursts into magnetic, clouded rhythm. It has to be ‘Sunshine’, a song over two decades old, which shines the brightest though. Even the opening chords produce a huge burst of satisfaction and fulfilment, like a dam we subconsciously built inside ourselves has broken and everything floods out in pointed hands and frenzied bounces. “I hear from kids these days that the 90s are popular,” jokes Beebout before the gentle guitar droplets of ‘Mud Hill’ spread themselves across bass ripples. There’s a violent honesty in our response as we fling our hearts back with each grunge evoking soft drop down. 

Relying on the ‘old songs’ is a safe move and it’s fair to say that, judging by the faded t-shirts from long-dissolved contemporaries of Samiam, most of the crowd grew up with these songs. The band’s return feels tentative, seeking reassurance that their songs are still wanted and needed in 2024. They speed through their set, packing twenty three quick fire songs into ninety minutes with only a brief, awkward break before the encore, like they have a secret that they need to share before their courage fails them. However, its clear from even the briefest glance across the crowd at any point in their set that there was no need for nerves. ‘Full On’ sparks a huge jump up, with a whispered push as hands flail with each trip of the drums until the melody slows and breaks into pieces. The cut-throat trashy vibrancy of ‘Ordinary Life’ is what sends us on our way to spread the message that Samiam’s punk rock torch is still burning brightly. After thirty years of intermittent recording and touring, they’re still able to pull together a crowd united by musical sincerity. 

Kate Allvey

Kicking things off are Child’s Pose, a London indie–punk four–piece comprising members of Sauna Youth and Self Defense Family. Their first songs are unremarkable, but the latter half of their seven–song set picks up the pace and the energy of their lead vocalist generates a mood of excitement within the growing crowd. Fellow Londoners High–Vis take to the stage next and play an enjoyable set of college rock–infused post–hardcore that recalls Hüsker Dü, Praise, and ‘Hyperview’–era Title Fight. It’s a lot of fun and serves as a nice foretaste of the energy that may be on display at a headline High–Vis show.

All of this, however, serves as a pre–amble to the main attraction. Ceremony take to the stage at 10.10pm with a different rhythm section than usual, and proceed to smash through a 50–minute, 16–song set that surpasses all the crowd’s expectations. They open with ‘Presaging the End’, the strongest song on new album ‘In the Spirit World Now’. The crowd are buoyant and enjoy the song, but it’s not until Ceremony segue into ‘Pressure’s On’ from their 2006 debut ‘Violence Violence’ that the pit really opens up and older members of the crowd draw back to give the boisterous youngsters present the chance to throw down.

They then play ‘Open Head’ from 2010’s ‘Rohnert Park’, which generates a very enthusiastic response from the audience. This turns out to  be the joint most well-represented album at the show, with no fewer than four songs played from it – the others being ‘The Doldrums (Friendly City)’, ‘Terminal Addiction’, and ‘Sick’. Any fears fans may have had about songs from ‘In the Spirit World Now’ and 2015’s ‘The L–Shaped Man’ dragging the pace down prove ill–founded as they are imbued with far more energy in a live setting than they were in their studio iterations, particularly ‘Turn Away the Bad Thing’. The moshpit responds to them well too, only turning the violence down a couple of notches when they are played.

Even more surprising is how much a cover version of Gary Numan’s ‘Cars’, played halfway through the set, gets the crowd dancing. The night’s biggest singalongs, though, are reserved for ‘Hysteria’ (the only song played from 2012 album ‘Zoo’) and the closing one–two punch of ‘Sick’ and ‘Kersed’, with the fans going berserk during the latter song.

While they may have transitioned away from hardcore with their last three albums, tonight Ceremony put on a show that’s as energetic, abrasive, and good–naturedly violent as the best of them – whether they intended to or not.

GREG HYDE