Finch

It’s been half a decade since Finch last played in Liverpool, and after tonight’s show it’s doubtful they’ll ever play here again.

Short tempers are evident on stage in the Barfly’s loft venue, resulting in a tumultuous evening’s entertainment, with both Finch and support band Hexes swinging between taking their aggression out on their songs and sinking into depression. What’s clear is that both bands are having to work their socks off in here.

Hexes rather foolishly squander awesome track ‘Semaphore Kids’ at the start of their set while the sound technician is still busy fiddling with the levels. Quite why he hasn’t got it sorted, God only knows, but it might have something to do with the fact that this gig has been moved from the larger venue downstairs at seemingly the last minute. That’s no excuse. As hard as Hexes play, the power is lost.

Fortunately, it’s uphill from there, with a fiendish display of aggression and driving rhythms. When Hexes crack the synths and recorded beats out, Finch’s emo fans prick their ears up and get interested, but there’s plenty for the metal-heads too – Daniel P Carter’s work experience with A and The Lucky Nine giving him the confidence and gumption to step in front of the microphone and roar like the devil.

No, what makes this hard work is the crowd, which is sizeable but almost entirely silent. Hexes receive barely a round of applause for their troubles when they deserve whoops of satisfaction, and you can see it breed frustration on their faces. Is this the treatment they’re getting elsewhere?

We expect the crowd to erupt for Finch. It doesn’t. What follows is troubling, eyes switching between band and fans, trying to discover what’s not working and why. Each takes it in turns to shoulder the blame. This group of fans are here for three songs, and all of them are from Finch’s first record: ‘New Beginnings’, 'Letters To You’ and ‘What It Is To Burn’. That album came out in 2002, six-and-a-half years ago. But these fans are stuck in the past and refuse to move on, trapping the band in limbo.

Finch have long since grown up from that verse-chorus simplicity, yet cuts from Say Hello To Sunshine and their recent EP receive nothing but muted claps even though they sound superb. About a dozen people are visibly enjoying themselves, and it starts to affect the band. Guitarist Randy Strohmeyer’s early attempts to rally the crowd fade swiftly as he retreats to his designated spot on stage, head bowed, and singer Nate Barcalow looks full of resentment as he watches people surge into life for ‘Letters To You’. He spends more time than usual sprawled on the stage floor, hiding.

Towards the end of the show, Strohmeyer says that he’s dosed up on Lemsips and has passed the flu on to frontman Nate Barcalow, but even if that’s true – Barcalow has little problem getting the words out – and they aren’t just beaten by the lack of enthusiasm in here tonight, you can’t help but think that these so-called fans could have helped them through more readily.

It’s a distressing show, and it should come as no surprise when Finch bypass Liverpool next time they visit our shores.