aaamusic | On 01, Feb 2011

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London, 24th January

Having finally located Shoreditch’s pseudo-legendary Old Blue Last, I settled down in a small, comfortingly dingy upstairs area to witness a headline set from Cardiff’s incomparable Exit International, the band who do not come hundreds of miles to be boring.

The opening band, Callum Read & The Books, also were responsible for curating the night’s eclectic bill. The band themselves were reflected in the DJ choice: an earnest alt-rock that borrowed heavily from bands such as Ash and Weezer in their jangling guitars/growling bass combination, jaunty rhythms and slightly grunge take on powerpop with lyrics covering the well-trodden grounds of friends and relationships. Their songs were short but undeniably sweet and charming, proving highly accessible from the get-go. No, they weren’t scaring any horses with their approachable, sugary rock, but sometimes the horses just want to settle and have a pint or two while listening to highly appealing indie powerpop.

Next up were Callibretti, whom I would have named as a conspicuously out-of-place choice, only none of the night’s bands had much in common beyond sharing a drumkit. Callibretti came across very much as someone’s mate’s covers band, which they ostensibly were, with a borderline comedic frontman pulling the moves, and the band all decked out in denim, leather jackets and shades. They played a set of their original material mixed with glam standards of the punk and metal variety, with renditions of songs by Poison, Zodiac Mindwarp, and The Dogs D’Amour all making an appearance. The basslines were driving, and the guitar rocked out as much as any self-respecting glam punk would want, but unfortunately they missed the extra spark to make the songs their own, coming across as a fun covers band rather than a truly powerful act.

Speaking of the truly original and powerful, Exit International were on their finest, most terrifying form as they savagely ripped through their 25-minute set like the world was going to end. Frontman Scott was quite literally foaming at the mouth by the time the first song was over, his bandmates looking as though they were satanically possessed as grinding sonic terrorism poured from their amps. I am honestly unsure how to describe their sound other than “loud” and “obscene”, and not just lyrically. To be shocking without being contrived is a real feat, but these guys manage to genuinely unsettle all involved. There is some unhinged primal sense of filth permeating every jagged note that makes you feel like you may have contracted an STD or a contagious and highly unappealing fetish after witnessing this band do their thing. By no means take this as negative though – Exit International are an incredibly talented mob, each brief sonic assault so tight that the set could pass for erotic asphyxiation using steel clingfilm. As for style, it’s a totally alien beast, a caustic monstrosity constructed of two bass guitars, one drumkit, venomous pedal boards and borderline inhuman vocals that swing between falsetto and sheer abject insanity. The speed is fast, the volume is fatal to lesser creatures, and the pitch is an alien mix of bass roar and squalling effects, all whipped into a frenzy by manic, violent drumming. We could be dealing with rock, but it is not rock as we know it. If Future Of The Left had their down-to-earth sensibilities and friendly approach removed, we might have a rough approximation, part noise punk, part Diamanda Galas style horrorshow and part Freudian apocalypse. If the horses had been put on edge by the earlier glam metal, they had surely been traumatised beyond all hope by Exit International as three men enacted Pandemonium itself spewing onto Earth via a small stage in East London.

And my verdict? Go and see Exit International. Now. They are a band that can only be understood live, and are a fascinating, thrilling experience waiting to break out and mutilate the bland face of 21^st-century rock.

Author & Photos: Katie H-Halinski