Oceansize

_Sometimes _it all just goes to plan. _Sometimes _you’ll see a band performing and it all fits together. Fits like destined lovers: bodies entwined; words synchronised; moving as one. The rarity of tonight saw three such bands. Three bands flowing at a juncture clasped by their audiences in the palm of their eyes and kept forever more within them.

Manchester’s *tRANSELEMENt *brought their wackily punctuated name and their equally wackily punctuated music to what is a local venue, to them. They might _have, should have, ought to have felt as if they had nothing to prove in front of an audience one may have felt were the equivalent of _‘regulars’, but they went all out. Throwing unfairly abstract rhythms and occasionally brutal musical violence out to an unsuspecting few, *tRANSELEMENt *mangle their music in the most delightful manner possible and somehow become an inconceivable joy. To describe them as a Mancunian version of *The Coral *wouldn’t be too unfair. Probably.

If Rok & Rol is a lifestyle then *Mínus *want to die by it. Creeping onstage decked out in assorted leather pants, dirty attitudes and skull emblazonments they were never going to croon love songs and gawp lovingly at their own footwear. With empowering atmospheric monologues, lovingly strewn over the shards of emptiness adorning the fallow periods of between-song sound-level construction, *Mínus *are able to perfect their sound and, indeed, gain emphasis with every single note. Deciding to veer toward their most recent material tonight seems as good an idea as any they have ever had and it proves to be one that showcases them in their most favourable light. Devoid of the youthful commotion of prior engagements, they play hard and fast hardcore-tinged, essential *_ROCK *_with the contagious chill and relaxation that other Icelandic bands have come to be famous for. I wasn’t ashamed to be left begging for more.

And what of the prodigal sons? Oceansize *have returned to the venue in which they were borne. What a homecoming it proved to be. With a majestic superiority unseen in bands with less arrogance, nay, less _confidence_, they swagger and sway their way around the stage, engulfing their crowd in a sweeping wave of reverberating ecstasy. Mixing their old – already classics - and new to excruciating effect, the five loll their heads back and fro with personal anguish felt by sundry, but known only unto themselves. To close your own eyes now would be surrender. It seems it is all you can do but relinquish your right of conservatism. There is no rationale here. It has no fundamental logic, per se, and to try to explain the beauty of the crushingly floundering *Tool-isms mashed with the droning underbelly of 6x7s. Pointless. These are not the actions of a band any more. *Oceansize *have risen over and surpassed all judgment in favour of their own justification. Above and beyond.