Fuck Armageddon, This Is Hull

It had been a while since I’d witnessed a live music event and it was time to rectify this. I shelled out £8 for a ticket and £9.45 chariot fare and then I was on my way to a punk all-dayer in Hull.

The venue, Fruit, is on the site of the city’s historic fruit market in an old warehouse. Warehouses aren’t renowned for their warmth and when I arrived at 3 o’clock, I thought they might as well have held the event in an igloo.

There were mostly young people there, as us old folks like to say, and I was sceptical as to whether the day would be any good or not. The first band was on at 4 which gave me an hour to play with my phone and avoid eye contact with hoodie-wearing youngsters.

One band had pulled out and the openers were a hasty, last minute addition to the bill. They didn’t bother to introduce themselves, but I heard someone say they were called Nothing’s Happening.

They were terrible. If two of you had formed a band with me at ten to four and we didn’t know any songs, we’d still have been better than them. Their guitar was far too fuzzy and their songs incredibly simplistic. Even their song about summer – ironic, given the Arctic conditions of the venue – sounded like a rip-off of the Sex Pistols’ Holidays in the Sun.

Their drummer was pretty good though and I had to wonder why he was wasting his time with two others who seemed to lack talent. The drummer and bassist swapped instruments for the final song and the former revealed himself to be a better bassist than the other guy.

I hoped that things would get better after this.

Thankfully they did, as haters of the space bar, Runoffthestatic, took to the stage. They had much better songs and much more energy. The girl who fronted the band swung the microphone around her head in lethal fashion while the guitarist threw some quite mental shapes and the bassist pogoed. The guitarist managed to snap a string at one point with his aggressive playing and had to borrow a guitar from another band to complete the set. He seemed hell-bent on wrecking that one too. They finished with a frantic cover of Shout (yes, that Shout) and left the stage to rapturous applause.

The guy promoting the show was outside after this talking to his parents, who had turned up to show support. He said they’d sold seventy tickets, which he was pleased with. In a city the size of Hull there simply have to be more people than that who are interested in this kind of music.

The third band were System Paralysis, another three-piece. The singer/guitarist looked like the singer/guitarist from Spinal Tap and the bassist had the most ludicrous mullet I’d ever seen. They opened with a slow ska song which quickly became much heavier. The rest of their songs had a GBH feel, which is never a bad thing, especially if you’re a fan of retro British hardcore.

It was obvious that whoever had arranged the bill was doing a sterling job, as the bands just kept getting better.

Next up were Yosser, named after the character in Boys from the Black Stuff, although the reference was probably lost on most of the audience. The venue was starting to fill up a bit at this point and I no longer felt conspicuously old.

The band played half an hour of incredibly good punk songs, broken up by the guitarist’s banter about hats. I can see great things happening for them (the band, not the hats) if they persevere.

Double Down followed them. All of their songs seemed to be about drinking, which went down well with those who had been on the sauce all afternoon. A guy wearing an Argentina football shirt who was either drunk, special needs or both particularly enjoyed them. He was even told off by the surly bouncer for throwing lager about.

The band’s original drummer was in the crowd and they coaxed him onstage to play one of their older songs. He was clearly hammered, but made a good job of it.

The Hyperjax came on just after 7:45 and played an odd mix of 50s rock-n-roll and punk. They even had a double bass. Wait: the guy playing the aforementioned bass? Wasn’t he one of the guitarists in Yosser? Yes he was. He span the bass around and slapped it till his fingers bled, to paraphrase a certain Canadian boredom merchant.

People were actually dancing to them. Not me though, obviously. My decision to stay off the booze meant dancing was off the agenda. Still, The Hyperjax were the best band of the day for me.

There were technical difficulties with most of the bands. Any request of “can I have more in my monitors” led to the room being filled with feedback and the mic for the guitar amp had to be held in place with tape. Skacorers, Faintest Idea, had even more bad luck. The wireless microphone the saxophonist had wouldn’t work. He had to play into a standing mic which didn’t help as he started the set in the crowd.

They were very entertaining though and filled the void in between Capdown and Voodoo Glow Skulls. The guitar was perhaps a little too loud for everything else, but it was all done on a tight budget and even tighter timetable, so it’s forgiven.

Sadly they were the last band I saw as I had to catch my bus, so I missed Counting Coins. I hope they were shit.