The Canadian Skate-Punksters Explode Their Way Through First English Show In Nearly 5 Years
They're back, sporting a revitalised line-up which features new drummer Frank Zummo and the return of original guitarist (and only Indian guy I've ever seen in a rock band): Dave 'Brownsound' Baksh. I'm not a massive fan of that nickname either... it sounds 'sewage-y' and vaguely disgusting. The Canadian four-piece only returned to the live circuit last year, after singer: Deryck Whibley's lengthy recovery from liver failure, but showed no signs of rustiness, powering through a 22-song set to take Birmingham by storm.
The night began, as all good ones should, in the Institute's neighbouring Irish pub: The Kerryman. Here I saw a strange phenomenon in six drunken pub lads in complete 'cheeky nando's' attire loudly singing along to pop punk songs. It is indeed rare to see tattooed, shaven-headed, skin tight t-shirt-wearing blokes belting out Blink 182's All The Small Things. Or perhaps I've just lead a sheltered life. Walking behind them into the gig itself, I was finding a good spot when a stocky, tasty-looking ginger guy shoves past me from behind, carving an aggressive path through the crowd. Usually, it would be accepted that he was a knob-head and I'd move on so it came as a bit of a shock to me when the guy clambered on to the stage, clutching a microphone. It transpired that the stocky red-head was in fact the main support act: Frank Carter whose set ended up featuring more climbing and crowd acrobatics than actual singing. Nevertheless it was incredibly exciting and had everyone in the mood for Kerrang! Tour headliners, Sum 41.
While support acts are often exciting to watch, you can immediately recognise a true headliner when you see one; they have the depth of material combined with the genuine stage presence. Sum 41's set set reflected the former, spanning their entire discography yet with an emphasis on crowd favourites, with Over My Head, Summer, Underclass Hero, The Hell Song and Walking Disaster all appearing within the first half of their performance.
While Cone and Baksh both tend to remain in fixed positions, Whibley dominates the stage, covering every inch of it as if he was playing the O2 Arena rather than the O2 Institute. In reality, the Canadians are far bigger than the venue, yet this generated a sense of intimacy enjoyed by the band and fans alike. Whibley was visibly relaxed. Considering his near-death experience, I was astounded at the energy he put in to that performance, prowling the stage's perimeter as if to make eye contact with every person in the building. As a fan I got the sense that he was really beginning to retest himself as a live performer, producing some very powerful vocal efforts and stepping up the crowd interaction as the night drew on. This culminated in him standing on an amp playing the opening riffs to Smoke On The Water and Seven Nation Army announcing: "This was the first thing I ever learned to play" about the former. They had clearly enjoyed playing the older songs from their roster, particularly Summer and Handle This which were never singles in their own right but were nonetheless belted out word-for-word by the nostalgic audience.
However, where their set really distinguished itself from other bands I've seen is something which, to me, seems glaringly obvious: saving the most well-known songs until last. If we're being honest, Fat Lip and In Too Deep played themselves that night. They could have been performed by a hoarse, drunken karaoke singer on a one stringed banjo and the atmosphere would still have been fantastic but to hear those anthemic riffs live is certainly a tick off the bucket list. It was at that point when I realised how relatively subdued the crowd had been beforehand. I'd been a little bit disappointed that not everyone shared my level of enthusiasm or excitement but that's probably more telling of me than anyone else. Nevertheless, they finally found their voices, making that encore a memorable one.
This guy is incredibly cringey so... sorry about that. The best ones were:
The night began, as all good ones should, in the Institute's neighbouring Irish pub: The Kerryman. Here I saw a strange phenomenon in six drunken pub lads in complete 'cheeky nando's' attire loudly singing along to pop punk songs. It is indeed rare to see tattooed, shaven-headed, skin tight t-shirt-wearing blokes belting out Blink 182's All The Small Things. Or perhaps I've just lead a sheltered life. Walking behind them into the gig itself, I was finding a good spot when a stocky, tasty-looking ginger guy shoves past me from behind, carving an aggressive path through the crowd. Usually, it would be accepted that he was a knob-head and I'd move on so it came as a bit of a shock to me when the guy clambered on to the stage, clutching a microphone. It transpired that the stocky red-head was in fact the main support act: Frank Carter whose set ended up featuring more climbing and crowd acrobatics than actual singing. Nevertheless it was incredibly exciting and had everyone in the mood for Kerrang! Tour headliners, Sum 41.
While support acts are often exciting to watch, you can immediately recognise a true headliner when you see one; they have the depth of material combined with the genuine stage presence. Sum 41's set set reflected the former, spanning their entire discography yet with an emphasis on crowd favourites, with Over My Head, Summer, Underclass Hero, The Hell Song and Walking Disaster all appearing within the first half of their performance.
While Cone and Baksh both tend to remain in fixed positions, Whibley dominates the stage, covering every inch of it as if he was playing the O2 Arena rather than the O2 Institute. In reality, the Canadians are far bigger than the venue, yet this generated a sense of intimacy enjoyed by the band and fans alike. Whibley was visibly relaxed. Considering his near-death experience, I was astounded at the energy he put in to that performance, prowling the stage's perimeter as if to make eye contact with every person in the building. As a fan I got the sense that he was really beginning to retest himself as a live performer, producing some very powerful vocal efforts and stepping up the crowd interaction as the night drew on. This culminated in him standing on an amp playing the opening riffs to Smoke On The Water and Seven Nation Army announcing: "This was the first thing I ever learned to play" about the former. They had clearly enjoyed playing the older songs from their roster, particularly Summer and Handle This which were never singles in their own right but were nonetheless belted out word-for-word by the nostalgic audience.
However, where their set really distinguished itself from other bands I've seen is something which, to me, seems glaringly obvious: saving the most well-known songs until last. If we're being honest, Fat Lip and In Too Deep played themselves that night. They could have been performed by a hoarse, drunken karaoke singer on a one stringed banjo and the atmosphere would still have been fantastic but to hear those anthemic riffs live is certainly a tick off the bucket list. It was at that point when I realised how relatively subdued the crowd had been beforehand. I'd been a little bit disappointed that not everyone shared my level of enthusiasm or excitement but that's probably more telling of me than anyone else. Nevertheless, they finally found their voices, making that encore a memorable one.
This guy is incredibly cringey so... sorry about that. The best ones were:
- Underclass Hero - 24.55
- In Too Deep - 46.54
- Fat Lip - 54.35
