I always knew that this band had a piece of my heart. What I wasn’t aware of was that they not only wanted my heart but my soul and not only did they want my soul but they wanted to take it, tear it to shreds and then abandon it on some highway in Texas which is pretty much what happened in a seemingly unassuming venue in North London.
There are 1000 reasons why I love this band, so perhaps it is a little unfair that I should be reviewing them, but as with every music fan I want the world to understand the genius as I see it. Trail Of The Dead have a reputation for attracting angry teenage boys in skinny fit band t-shirts and strangely awkward features, but they are more than that. They build up walls of sound so intense that you feel that your body will never stop reverberating, that simultaneously drowns and lifts the crowd, two drummers pounding out the knowledge that you cannot remember a time before this band. Ok, so now I sound like I’m their management, but I have sold my soul to black hair dye, angry guitars and nice jumpers, with no option of a return ticket.
The only drawback was the size of the venue. It says ‘sold out’ on the door, but something is amiss. I want the impossibly oppressive wall of heat generated by a pool of sweating bodies, I want to only vaguely be able to breathe by the end of the set. Actually, even when the bar is empty there is still enough room to fill your lungs without any pain and even to duck when someone 8 feet tall accidentally tries to elbows you in the head. Whatever, there are enough fireballs of aggressive, demonic energy being spat our way by Trail Of The Dead to take this crowd anywhere.
The current European tour has come to an end, but never fear, as they are due back in the UK in early 2006. Until then, my advice would be to buy the new record and turn it up so loud your ears bleed, or you at least perforate an eardrum.
