The Notorious Hi-Fi Killers

Pity the poor dears wandering in late in the day, their ears as yet unblemished by the ferocity around the bend (well, down the stairs). They know not why they cry, only that it feels bizarrely right. We, too, are beginning to regret standing so close…

Today is event three in Silver Rocket’s fifth birthday celebrations following a quite rocking Buffalo Bar bash featuring Fuck-Off Machete and Hey Colossus and an even grander affair earlier in the month when Cove and Querelle threatened to cave in the cramped confines of Upstairs at the Garage. The first band proper this afternoon (we’re at a RoTa session, so the day is young), The Notorious Hi-Fi Killers, might just be the loudest act these lugholes have cowered to since they stumbled into a Part Chimp show three-or-so years ago.

There are three guys on stage making the noise of an amplified army, stoner riffs bludgeoned into a bastardised version of some psychedelic outfit from way back. The vocals are delivered cleanly but are rendered indecipherable under the skull-shattering noise emitting from guitars bass and lead, while the drums are never less than explosive. Songs, at the moment, play second fiddle to the alarmingly intense experience, but expect this side project of sorts to blossom into a full-time affair once a few more rehearsals are under their considerable belt. Fuckin’ fantastic, if uncommonly brutal, stuff.

Although DiS has to do a runner before Montana Pete’s unreserved chaos (we’ve seen it before and the scars remain), we do find twenty-odd minutes to watch October All Over remind all still able to distinguish painful buzz from musical beats why they’re attracting considerable praise from all corners. Their take on hardcore past and present isn’t immediately different from the bands they’re clearly indebted to, but given time the quartet’s compositional skills become apparent: ‘The Cabinet Of Dr October’ is a mangled mess of shattered riffs and screeched vocals, held together by essential rhythm guitar work, and bassist Sophie Haines contributes necessary light to her co-workers’ terrifying howls. Her vocals might not sound crystal clear in these surroundings, but the impression of on-record effectiveness is absolute.

We scamper up the stairs and into what remains of the day’s light - the onset of rain has rather dampened our enthusiasm for an across-town barbecue, but we go anyway. Our ears ring for hours, but our smiles will last for days.