White Heat

There are a number of places a lover of live music could find happiness come a Tuesday evening, and Soho’s White Heat club is a pretty safe bet when it comes to choosing promising talent from the noisier end of the indie-rock spectrum. Tonight is where commerce and artistry collide, for here we are invited to the club’s very own spin-off record label bash, and only the brattiest, loudest bands around have made the cut.

First off the block is the one-man arsenal of sound ddd, whose twanging guitar lines are meated-out alongside electronic drum tracks and hip-swinging ‘OCD rock’ moves. It is always a task for one performer to fill a stage, but the artist-also-known-as Darryl manages it with what could be described as aplomb, even if the best track happens to feature a certain guest bassist.

Headless, meanwhile, seem more relaxed than ever, playing what must by now feel like home turf. The all-girl four-piece rumble through recent single tracks ‘Stampede’ and ‘Supper’ with a snarling focus, even digging out a superb forgotten gem from their early days and exchanging infectious smirks as they rattle the bones of their audience with blood-curdling screams and distortion.

Not ones to turn down a challenge, Trencher (pictured) up the volume a further notch with their always-spectacular Casio-punk-metal onslaught. By this point the crowd has most assuredly thickened, the front rows devolving into tumble of movement and collisions. Bodily juices and cheap Stella are flung around like champagne at a grand prix, soaking anyone in near proximity to the stage. Despite positively rocking the house, the band is left disappointed as their departing request for Class As falls upon deaf ears.

Sitting in pride of place at the top of the bill are White Heat Records’ first-ever signings, Comanechi. Fronted by diminutive drummer-cum-screamer Akiko and completed by woolly jumper-loving, Sabbath-riffing guitarist Simon, Comanechi have evolved over the past months into icons of the DIY scene. Last year they were plucked from the toilet circuit by Beth Ditto to support The Gossip, and the exposure has clearly instilled the duo with a new level of confidence. Tonight they are joined by a handful of guests from the other acts, allowing Akiko to emerge from behind the kit for short bursts of time, and fleshing out their minimalist songs into something no less appetising.

Although I leave needing a new pair of ears, it’s not a bad set of sounds for one evening, even without the label’s other secret weapons, Untitled Musical Project and The Low Miffs. Without doubt, WHR are definitely a record label demanding – and deserving – your attention.

Photograph by Sanna