Raging Speedhorn

When the first band at a show sound like Candiria *you just know that tonight, the music cannot fail you. This New York ‘_math-core_’ band have crossed the Atlantic determined not to disappoint anyone so they carry on jumping and grinding away with plenty, if not too much, energetic *start-stop method jamming. It was loud and unpredictable – just what live music should be. It should be noted that only Chino Moreno’s trousers hang lower than those of Candiria’s bizarrely monikered frontman – Carley Coma.

*Clutch *appeared and played as though they should have been headlining. They could have been headlining, but later evidence suggested that there was a formidable opponent in the billing war. The American’s brand of *funky *stoner rock was enough to make you want to become incoherent. In a good way. *Clutch *know what live music is about. Their experience is evident as they power their way through the set with what seems to that bloke out of Aereogramme in their midsts. *Neil Fallon *holds more than a passing resemblance to Craig B, in body and in passionate performance.

It was always going to be a loud night with this dissonant trio of metallists; one your ears would remember for several days no doubt. It was loud – in ever last sense of the word. The six annoyed, young men from Corby, known as Raging Speedhorn, took the stage enveloped in darkness; swathed persistently in red, sporadically in white, exposing the menacing vacant gaze of one *John Loughlin *just often enough to spur your nightmares. *Frank Regan’s *menacing glare was enough to make you lose control of necessarily tight sphincters and his between-song ‘banter’ was oft little more than abuse. There was something painfully reassuring about this.

Speedhorn’s sound was not only invigoration in itself, but it was something that made your very insides roll. The guitars of Tony Loughlin *and *Gaz Smith *failed to merely rumble, they seemed to grumble and moan sufficiently to fill you with a sense of disquiet. The twin vocal attack of the aforementioned Regan and J. Loughlin, may serve only to act as a rest for each other as their voices are barely *distinguishable. I daresay they would sound nowhere near as frantic and intense with one absent.

There was barely a single cell of my body that had not been shaken the shit out of by this band. By playing such set stormers as the hit single 'The Gush' and 'Superscud', Raging Speedhorn can aid your digestion like no other band.