Furcurve

Despite the god awful winter chill outside, the Spectrum was predictably warm and stuffy, thanks to a full room of punters eagerly awaiting Furcurve to take to the stage. Armed with a creative hybrid of alternative assaults, the band launched their new album (and themselves) with unrelenting force at the hungry audience.

From the first song, my least favourite of the set, the Furcurve sound is noticeably more danceable. Vocalist Luke Monk struts and twirls his way around the stage, and the jagged rhythm soon gets hips shaking all over the room. The song is surprisingly devoid of screams, with Monk instead delivering a fairly monotone vocal performance. It’s an alright song with an O.K hook, but it’s not why I came to see Furcurve.

Two songs in however, it’s a different story. As bass demon Dean Podmore throws his hands in the air and yells out, “Pump up the jam”, things get a whole lot more frantic, angry, and really bloody loud. Monk toughens up the atmosphere by jumping, not over, not around, but directly into the front row, sending them flying. He ends up somewhere near my feet, despite my best efforts to use fellow audience members as human shields.

From this point onward we hear better examples of what is great about the new album, ‘We Grew Legs to Flee the Water’. As the title might suggest, an evolution has taken place that sees Furcurve step beyond the confines of Blood Brothers-esque post hardcore.

It feels like the music has expanded to embrace a fuller spectrum of styles, going heavier, softer, catchier, and trashier in an unpredictable fashion. Hard rock and trashy indie-pop are mashed up with spazzed out punk and metal, and then smeared with a diverse vocal performance that ranges from sassy spoken word to brutal deep growls and slicing screams.

The resulting live experience is a messed up hardcore punk dance party, that is high spirited despite its venomous nature. No greater proof of this can be found than in the member substitution which sees their merch girl take to the stage to do bass guitar and back up vocals, while Dean dances around with a tambourine.

Some of the slower and softer sections can be a little aimless. Maybe Furcurve feel their audience deserves a small chance to catch their breath before once again being smacked in the face repeatedly, and unapologetically.

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