The Lovers / Arthur Smith / Hattie Hayridge / Maynard Flip Flap

@ Sheffield Tudor Square

This is a brave attempt to add a much needed touch of variety to nights out in Sheffield by adding cabaret to Saturday nights out in the city centre. It was a cold and wintery night out there, but Sheffield's sometimes fickle audience did itself proud by turning up in force. Well, they had paid £16, so I suppose expectations were high. Sandman's interest was principally the inclusion on the bill of the ever delightful Lovers, and although their contribution was solid, they were somewhat short-changed by only being allowed to play 5 songs, spread across the two halves of the show. As if this wasn't unfair enough, the sound system in the Library Theatre, whilst being well suited to the stand-up nature of the other three acts, did not do them any real favours, and their lyrics were lost to anyone unfamiliar with their clever, witty songs. No matter though, as Marion appeared as sexy as ever, and Fred oozed his Gallic charm all over their music. 'Friends' was best received in the second half, while in the first, 'La Degustation', co-written by Jarvis Cocker, found the broad-minded audience loving Fred's risqué request to Marion to 'drink his wine'. They have a second album available now, which I am sure would have sold well if it had been on sale in the foyer. Never mind, log on to their web site and order one.

The rest of the evening was a delightful mix of comedy from Hattie (didn't mention Red Dwarf once) Hayridge and Arthur (did mention Grumpy Old Men about 20 times) Smith. Maynard compared, and performed his street theatre on a stage for a change, and whilst not as hilarious, it added an element of real theatre to the proceedings.

The whole night was a hugely enjoyable event, and is set to be a monthly fixture. Trying to pull in an audience when you're up against Toby Foster's regular City Hall comedy night will be a challenge, but if the bill is as strong as this, they'll have no problems.

Chris Xenra

Sky Larkin / Pulled Apart by Horses

@ Manchester Night and Day

Pulled Apart by Horses were incredible. Already hailed as one of the best live 'new' bands in the UK it would be hard to argue with them based on tonight. They manage to force together extreme levels of energy and passion with the ability to write a chorus, resulting in a level of post hardcore angst that will be hard to better this year. Tom Hudson screaming every word like it is his last, which gives Pulled Apart by Houses a sense of conviction that few can claim to have.

Tonight they are doing everything they can to give us a show with lead singer/guitarist Tom jumping into the crowd at every chance he gets, as if the music unleashes something unable to come out with screams. Pulled Apart by Horses proved to be everything that you could hope for giving a forceful and impassioned show that delivers on there devilishly aggressive name, resulting in a performance that shows they fully deserve the attention they are receiving.

Sky Larkin, on there first headline tour, put on the a show which goes some way to justify the hype they have received recently and prove far more captivating than on first listen to there debut 'The Golden Spike.' On record they fail to deliver on early promise show from singles such as One of Two over a whole album but live there are a different beast altogether.

Sky Larkin seem like a band low on ego and high of appreciation for there surroundings thanking the crowd every change they get. Twee pin-up Katie Harkins switches between guitar and synth letting her sweet melodic vocals soften the driving bass, the affect of which seems to have hypnotized the most of the crowd including myself, leaving us unable to look anywhere else. Tonight Sky Larkin give a worthy performance with the theme of gratitude throughout and more importantly promise, hinting that, after a solid first record and excellent live performances, Sky Larkin could turnout to be something rather special.

Lorn Wickham

Emmy the Great / Ex-lovers / Young Husband

@ Nottingham Social

First up on stage tonight was Young Husband. Their songs had a good pace and the inner band smiles show a subtle confidence for an act; who have to perform to a crowd still appearing and not yet settled. Bar an unfortunate string break for singer and a minute of improvisation whilst swapping guitars the set was breezy and set the evening up well.

Next up were Ex-lovers who had quite an exciting and varied aesthetic. The female vocalist was suffering with a cold, but sung on regardless. The combination of male/female vocals bounced off each other with a youthful optimism and with the rest of the band being tight and melodic it was a fitting prelude to Emmy the Great.

Emmy, real name Emma, spent the last few minutes before her performance standing by the stage, looking perfectly calm and content in her oversized jumper. Once on, her delicate voice brimmed with an honesty and charm through set opener 'The Easter Parade' and was soon into the upcoming single 'First Love', with its nod to Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah'. With each song passing you felt like you were being accepted into her world with brutally honest lyrics and more regular (if not a bit random) retellings of recent dreams she's had.

The stand out tonight was '24'; my friend and I both glanced at each other after the song, with grins and wide eyes, acknowledging that we just got to hear something very special. One of the more upbeat songs tonight was 'We Are Safe' featuring the lyric 'we are safe when we're together'; I think we would all feel a lot safer with Emmys' voice surrounding us on these cold nights.

Luke Shreeve

Kami Thompson / Jon Allen / Charlene Soraia

@ Sheffield Boardwalk

These 3 young English singer/songwriters are touring under the 'Footprints' banner - aiming to bring some bright, new talent to the public's attention. This is a very crowded market, with lots of very capable people writing introspective / catchy / funny songs and playing very good guitar accompaniment. So, to stand out from the crowd really requires something a bit different. Will any of tonight's hopefuls have the X factor?

Charlene Soraia is from Sydenham and is a graduate of the Brit School. She sits on a high stool with her electric guitar and plays a number of beautifully crafted songs all highlighted by some lovely jazz-infused fretwork. Her inbetween song patter is made up of scatty tales of ex-boyfriends, motorway jams and the moons of Jupiter. As well as her mastery of jazz guitar, she also displays an impressive vocal range, from smoky jazz phrasing to Minnie Riperton-like falsetto. I don't know how commercial this is, but ability-wise she deserves something.

Jon Allen is from Devon via Winchester and attended the Liverpool Institute of Performing Arts. His influences are the Beatles, Dylan and Neil Young and he describes his songs as sounding like they were written circa 1970. He has also had recent exposure with support slots to K T Tunstall, Mark Knopfler and Emmylou Harris. He plays left-handed acoustic guitar and is a much more folky/bluesy proposition than his predecessor. His fourth song 'Going Home' was used in a recent Land Rover TV ad and has apparently attracted 20,000 downloads, though he admitted that he has lost all his green credibility by selling his soul to the gas guzzler. His songs are harmless enough, but to these ears there is nothing new here to merit anything other than polite applause.

I saw Kami Thompson last year supporting her brother, Teddy, and now that her debut album is imminent, I was interested to see her progress. She was greeted with an 'ey up' from the crowd ('do you actually say that?') and Kami then played a brief set of 6 pleasant songs that didn't really inspire. She reminds me a little of her friend Martha Wainwright who plays similarly nice, but limited music and who suffers in comparison to her parents and elder brother. With the cachet of her name and the assistance of her other celebrity buddies (Sean Lennon and Bonnie 'Prince' Billy), out of the 3 people tonight she will probably have the best chance of a sustained career, however well deserved.

Pete Martin

White Boys for Brothel Med Clinics / Red Stars Parade / White Boys for Black Lizzie / Tangaroa

@ Leeds Milo's

Free entry for non-Caucasians? A personalised sex doll with inflatable penis and authentic anal cavity? Venue that resembles a microwave packed with filth loving band fillies? "I think I underestimated our fan base," says Sick Boy, beaming beside the sex doll that looks uncomfortably like Barack Obama. Should be a lively one.

Tangaroa are the first to bring it to the tin-foil torture box and they are by no means being gentle. Playing the kind of mind mangling tech metal associated with the likes of Dragonforce and Magma, riffs explode like psychotic fits, rhythms change direction and bpm in seconds... it's hard to keep up.

Unfortunately, the room is barely up to the task of containing the metal, meaning that every time Simon opens his mouth, everything is drowned out by grunt-scream. That said, not all is lost as Simon looks like a parallel universal, tattooed Ricky Wilson (sorry) and possesses the same hands-on approach with the crowd. Even though this does involve point blank screaming. Needs a bigger boat.

"Motherfuckin' showtime!" A 'last chance to see' up next – the original White Boys line up. Pretty Boy has come up from London, Hordak has got a night off from Vessels and the filth is thick and fishnetted. Stockings over heads are always nasty, but over the head of a suited barrister... Brett Easton Ellis nasty. The pace is furious, the electronics high in the mix and the instruments breaking left right and centre – at one point, Pretty is bellowing into the crowd sans amplification because "everything's fucked – let's go!" It's tight though and the crowd lap it up like hot bukkake as it goes from scary to terrifying. The ex-WB are getting a real cathartic kick out of this, even though the sound sucks ass.

The first thing that hits you about Red Stars is the bass. The guitar may not be as twiddly as Tangaroa, the vocals not as terrifying as White Boys but my legs are quaking from the low frequencies. A bequiffed Matt Dixon roams the crowd, barking agit prop to the crammed masses and the boundaries become utterly scrubbed in a multi-mosh ritual – there's even low altitude crowd surfing. Brash and broad – I don't think the PA can take much more of this. White Boys in stocking masks are one thing... White Boys in dresses are something else. Sick Boy looks like David Walliams, Paedophillips is... shocking - it's all great. 'Gang Ape Sex Tape' makes things messier and, though this noise is more straight up hardcore than earlier stuff, it's loud and crowd pleasing. It's also surprisingly amiable, and when Hordak and Sick Boy get on 'stage' for an encore of 'Napalm Bunny Foo Foo', it turns into a big old metal love in, Sick Boy carried aloft on the shoulders of the crowd on a wave of hardcore affection. Filth has never been so friendly.

Rob Wright

Take A Worm For A Walk Week / Lavotchka / Chickenhawk

@ Leeds Royal Park Cellars

An ill-lit cellar in the centre of Leeds six, ceilinged with pipes and girders; a crowd of overheating hardcore devotees standing motionless like hairy menhirs; a man called Gino singing the hits of Slade in the bar above. Just a bit of scene setting for what is fast becoming an amicable if odd sanctuary for the noisier elements of the Leeds band scene.

I saw Chickenhawk about four years ago and let me just say there has been a marked improvement with them, even though they still look as awkward as public school boys at their first 'initiating flogging'. Their guitarist still wanders into the crowd though, but seeing as the guy was wearing a mask the first time around, it is difficult to say whether it is the same guy. Tonight, they are overdosing on bass and the sound is mainly reduced to a sludge metal boom and the Zed-like scream of Paul Astick, though you do get the occasional glimpse of the spectacular fret shredding these guys are capable of. It does mean that some of the odder, more playful stuff from the album (no 'Duelatron') gets a pass (time constraints are evident too) but they do pull 'NASA VS ESA' out in all it's ridiculous glory and stage an audience reversal moment for a bemused front row. They could do with a bigger stage, a better sound and some bloody lights.

Lavotchkin are not from Newcastle but they are more comfortable on the stage than Chickenhawk. Non sequiturs aside, this Northumbrian five-piece thrash those heads from the get go with a noise that suits the enclosed space, even if it is toned down a touch. Feedback squalls and guitars are abused angrily, backing up Martin Downing's scraping bellow. The beats are laid down four square and fast... but the audience remain unmoved. Which I find quite odd, especially considering how nice these guys are. Maybe it's this contradiction of hardcore barrage and amiability that throws the crowd. Regardless, they look good, sound good and from the way my trousers rattle, they do you good too.

Take A Worm For A Walk Week scare me. A hairy Glaswegian foursome that scream, riff and gurn their way through an accelerated set is one thing, but in lycra? As expected, incredibly tight rolling thunder songs and deranged humour – all the jokes, all the notes, all the time. My brain is overloaded after a couple of songs and the lead singer JoeJohnJulius... I don't know... is making McCaw noises while dangling from a girder. It's something fuelled, incomprehensible and not a million miles from our own White Boys in sound and delivery... no bad thing, but they should be locked up. All of a sudden they are there then gone and we are left with a tinittal ring to remember them by. Upstairs, Gino continues unabated, doing to Slade what the bands downstairs have been doing to music in general all night.

Rob Wright

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