Puressence

Sober Shoo this night; and late; wander into the Stanley Theatre with some bigbigbig Puressence-fan-mates looking to educate my sorry ass and help me try an' realise, as they do, that the Manc foursome are the bread-est thing since Sliced Best…

Dullard that I am, I forget to charge me glass before thudding into the sweatsassed room. The rest of the assembled people seem to love it however, although the gluey floor does provoke asides of “Are you the walking dead” from fat-Darius frontpieman, James Mudreski; presumably due to the lack of audience animation tonite during the single of the same name. Mudreski’s vocals are engagingly off-kilter though – with the skysweepin’ larynx beseeching idolatry from the front row throughout. Has this band really been round for a decade? Surely not. The set is lumpen and sinisterly half-hearted – although of course that matters little if you’re a fan of their Mancpast-referencing / pasteurising.

But with the latest chart-jaunt 'Walking Dead' shaving the top 30, and new album 'Planet Helpless'_ looking like a suitably layered showcase for the quartet’s seduction productions, Puressence have definitely got a depth that a hell of a lot of groups nowadays seem ta eschew in favour of dirtbox 70s fuzzmastering. This is the point where the first lager starts to feel good and I decide that gigs are great things. To experience the joy of 500 others is a rare and pacific event, and I suddenly find I'm startin' to really tap into the appreciative mood.