Live: Sleaford Mods

19th September

Manchester Club Academy

8/10

It was Kim Gordon that said "people go to gigs to see others believe in themselves." Whilst this is applicable for most bands, Sleaford Mods don’t operate that way with its audience. Originating from the depravity of day-to-day working class life, the duo’s music encapsulates the solidarity of a disenfranchised class of people who have lost their belief – whether it be in the political system, or through the struggles of low paid employment. Previous torchbearers include Oasis; whom, incidentally, have been attacked by the Mods numerous times for abandoning the culture that created their careers.

The turnout on Friday at the Academy reflects the unpredictability of the music itself; a demographic featuring young Manchester intelligentsia aside hardened middle aged men. Any disparity beforehand, however, dissolves as Jason Williamson (lead singer) and Andrew Fearn (music) appear on stage. There is no pre-song banter, and what proceeds is a verbal onslaught to the soundtrack of fast post-punk beats. The songs flow seamlessly together, with little chance to recover in between, and Williamson spits vitriol with such proficiency one has to concentrate to comprehend every line. Problems of repetitiveness and sound production, my personal complaints about their last album Divide and Exit, are not present in the live setting, which proves to be a more amplified, visceral experience – the vocals especially prove more hostile and uncontrollable.

Captivating moments come at the end of a number of songs, with Williamson shouting some provocative phrase repeatedly or improvising a rant, continuing even after the music ends. Examples include ‘the wage don’t fit’, ‘we all vote yes’, ‘sack the manager’ and a disturbing rant about going to the horse races and happily watching all the rich attendees be set alight. The Mods’ affinity for shouted hooks becomes easily understood through songs played live, like ‘Fizzy’, and ‘Jobseeker’; Williamson’s snarl resonates with the audience, who happily sing along. It is these harder songs that showcase a brutal camaraderie between musician and crowd, and provide the high points of the set.

No crowd interaction can be found by Williamson during the set; he stands with his side to the audience, focusing on the rapid succession of words he’s spewing. But this doesn't mean the duo lack sincerity. They end in thanks, and leave to the crowd’s frenzied chanting. Williamson’s face is half bemused in reaction. Although older and more wary of idolatry, it seems the Mods now represent the voices of those that cannot be heard, whether they like the worship or not.