It’s Halloween and Sticky Mike’s is a mishmash of people with varying levels of commitment to fancy dress. Decked out in slapdash spooky garb and a spatter of fake blood, the majority in attendance await hyped Halifax trio The Orielles, whose eclectic spin on indie rock is tonight’s main dish.
But before the exuberant noiseniks breeze in and blast the senses, there’s a stellar supporting cast in tow. Brighton’s Beachtape are the first to thrill the basement venue with their brand of dazed lo-fi grunge-pop. Sludgy chords, scraggy cymbals and slacker hooks hark back to Seattle circa ‘92, with highlight ‘Through & Through’ sounding like the meeting point between J Mascis and Mac DeMarco.
Fellow south coasters Sulky Boy also channel the latter, with dreamy ditty ‘Drunk Dial’ proving to be a glorious blend of off-kilter lyrics and lush guitarwork, before local faves FUR outdo themselves with an evocative exhibition of doo-wop crooning and woozy 50s melodies. Latest single ‘If You Know That I’m Lonely’ is their set’s starry-eyed peak, sounding like Alex Turner – bequiffed and in his best bib and tucker – covering a forgotten Merseybeat classic.
Then it’s over to The Orielles, who are loud, untamed and wired with sheer visceral energy. They galvanise from the get-go: sisters Sidonie B and Esmé Dee Hand Halford launch into a rollicking concoction of bass and drums, while best friend Henry Carlyle Wade takes the room on a white-knuckle ride of jangly guitar that always feels like it’s teetering on the brink of bedlam. It’s an intoxicating onslaught that rarely lets up: ‘I Only Bought It for the Bottle’ brings lilting licks à la Unknown Mortal Orchestra, ‘Let Your Dogtooth Grow’ nods to nineties alt-rock royalty and intense tempo-shifting finale ‘Sugar Tastes Like Salt’ is psychedelia at its most brash and electrifying. In the flesh, the West Yorkshire trio pack a punch, and with debut album ‘Silver Dollar Moment’ on the way, The Orielles seem primed for domination.