The Prince Albert is my favourite pub in Brighton, what with its friendly staff, ‘right on’ rainbow and St. Pauli flags, and funny sandwich boards. They are currently serving a particularly fine porter too, worryingly referred as a ‘breakfast porter’! Look, it’s not for me to judge but, if you’re drinking strong ale for breakfast then it may be time to stop and reflect… There was a pretty decent turn out for a Sunday night, with most punters being here for pre-gig drinks, including the acts playing the 100 capacity upstairs venue. One of the beauties of small venues like this is that it a lot of bands are happy to come out and mingle, chat and connect with the fans who have come to see them; I am definitely a big fan of that.
Anyway, on to the music on offer and first up was a local four-piece called Fighting Colours. The first two tracks introduced us to their Arcane Roots and Biffy Clyro-inspired sound pretty well. Lead vocalist, Jasmine, can certainly sing and drew most of the attention centre-stage with an enthusiastic performance. I got the impression that guitarist Pete is the other driving force behind their guitar-based songs, the drummer and (bare-chested and denim-bedecked!) bassist being relatively new recruits.
The rhythm section seemed to cope with the odd time signatures of some of the tracks pretty well, although there were a couple of very odd lead guitar refrains, which were a bit difficult to get your head around. The third track of the set was a case in point; I suspect that this was a new song, which the guitarist was still struggling to get to grips with himself.
Jasmine encouraged the audience to sit down for one of their songs, which was a mournful lament dedicated to her late grandparents. This may have been moving for some of those present but I found it a bit odd (and, anyway, my sciatica decided it wasn’t going to happen in my corner of the room tonight). Sitting on venue floors is not generally a good idea (unless you want to take more of that breakfast porter home with you than you planned, of course). Fighting Colours were pleasant enough but they are obviously right at the beginning of their story, having had a bumpy start by all accounts. It will be interesting to see the direction they take when they have decided just what that is.
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At first glance, lead vocalist and guitarist BEX may come across as a cutesy ’punk-rock-out-of-a-packet’ giggler in her tartan attire and crazy red hair but don’t be deceived – it’s a trap! There is a lot more to her than that. Her vocal style skips between breathy talking (which reminded me of Witch Fever at times) to punk screams, with more melodic sections and catchy choruses along the way. In fact, for the most part, her songs are covid-levels of catchy, mixing elements of Jack Off Jill, Wargasm and her own special ingredient.
Bex, and the rest of the band, put on a good show, which grew on me the more I attuned to their sound of thudding drums and harsh punk riffs. Having said that, the audience were quite subdued, to be honest, but they still joined in with a couple of sing-alongs, such as the trickily monikered “Spyd4 K1ng”. Bex shows a healthy dose of her darker side in the lyrics to songs like “Chained Into My Brain”, “Misogynistic Dicks” and “Trust No One”, the latter boasting the line ‘I trust no one, I’m going solo just to get it done’ bolstered by her characteristically confident swagger.
There was a strong suspicion that they were playing over a backing track at times, but we’ll forgive them that little luxury. The last song was enhanced by shooting the audience with a bubble-making gun. There should be more bubbles in stage shows, in my opinion, so more of that please and yes, I would happily see BEX again.
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Hawxx’ promotional blurb boasts ‘cathartic love & rage’ and that is exactly what we are treated to tonight. This multinational sisterhood comprises Anna, Hannah, Julia and Jess, representing England, Wales, Italy, and Greece (but not necessarily in that order). They reportedly want to change the landscape of the metal scene and I think that that is already happening, given the rising popularity of traditionally under-represented sections of society in the make-up of bands within the genre. A quick scan of my current playlist is evidence that this is very much a good thing. Some would argue that metal always has evolved (thrash, nu metal, grunge…) but I’ll leave that discussion there for now. Hawxx are certainly not just a straightforward “metal band” either, their songs melding metal (“Death Makes Sisters Of Us All”) with punk (“Bite”) and even melodic hard rock (check out “Soulbreaking Machines” and its insightful lyrics).
I was first turned on to Hawxx by our little local radio station (Hailsham FM – hi Chris) and the current tour is promoting their rather excellent debut album Earth, Spit, Blood and Bones, which has been on repeat on my MP3 player over the last few days. All of those assembled put in a good shift and played their respective instruments well, although they were not helped by the persistent technical problems that seemed to plague the entire set. Fortunately, the problems did not really affect what the crowd were hearing because of the band’s musical ability, professionalism and determination to push on through. They have some top riffs at their disposal and use them effectively to create very memorable tunes. Anna’s lead vocals were particularly impressive, spitting out invectives when necessary (“Bite”), just as easily as expressing pain and frustration through soaring melodies (e.g. “The Worst Thing” – one of my favourite tracks). Her vocals were ably supported and harmonised by the rest of the band too (e.g. the start of “Fathertongue”).
The coincidence that I submitted this review on International Women’s Day is not lost on me either, given the lyrical content and subject matter of Hawxx’ songs. Whilst I think it is common knowledge that women have to put up with a lot of shit (and, quite frankly, if you don’t know this, it’s time to open your eyes), the risk of labelling all men as being part of some patriarchy (and therefore responsible for all of society’s ills) risks a descent into misandry (and all prejudice effectively comes from the same place as far as I’m concerned). My mantra has always been – you can only be ‘woke’ if you were asleep in the first place!
