...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

"People shouldn't be afraid of being pretentious." - Conrad Keely, 2004

Fuck the unwieldy name, the political, historical and mythological undertones of their songs, and the rustic viola melodies on their recent tour de force, Worlds Apart. Forget the two drumkits. One thing Austin refugees ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead cannot actually be accused of is pretentiousness. At the heart of pretension is artifice, and Trail Of Dead are as real as rock and roll gets. Start to finish, their set is a surge of unshakeable self-belief - boundless fury bubbling beneath an easy smile.

Yesterday Trail Of Dead played to a 'sold-out' crowd at London's Electric Ballroom. Pretty full, at least when the bar was empty. Tonight, the heat hits you as you step in the door and hit a solid wall of bodies. Trail Of Dead are at their most electrifying in compact venues like this, where the force of their sound overwhelms and inflames you. At the heart of the band is the dynamism and contrast between their two flamboyant frontmen/drummers, who switch places with each other throughout; Jason Reece is the fireball of aggressive, demonic energy encircling Conrad Keely's near-evangelical fervour.

Their recent opus, which divided opinion across the board, unleashed a flood of potential directions for them, but after years of experience there's no disorientation, even in the face of new possibilities - they're tighter and deadlier than they've ever been. Broadcast into the black void of the Electric Ballroom, Keely's vocals swept with siren-like clarity across the sea of heads. In tonight's densely crammed little nook, they reverberate manically off every surface. The effect is pure frenzy, on and offstage.

Trail Of Dead are that rare band that can be utterly relaxed with their audience and yet reduce them to a single body of awe and obeisance when they reach their crescendo - and tonight the crescendoes come thick and fast. 'And The Rest Will Follow' is delivered like an incontestable statement of intent, all echoey, sky-high vocals flanked by a double cavalcade of drums. Jason Reece prowls the stage throughout 'Aged Dolls', menacing and devilish, and 'Mistakes And Regrets' explodes off the stage in a mess of resentment, gall and injured pride, jabbered vocals tripping over a tangle of restless, foaming guitars.

It's thrilling stuff. By the final provocative, hip-slinky rock'n'roll taunt of _'Richter Scale Madness', with its climactic chant of _"kill, kill!", it's clear there's not a band out there that can touch them - Trail Of Dead are on fire, and burning brighter than they ever have before.

Photo by Gen Williams