Live in Oxford: Poison The Well

+ The Ghost Of A Thousand

Zodiac, Oxford - 8 Mar 2007

by Simon T Diplock

A masterclass in hardcore rock

"It is difficult to know whether Poison The Well are playing a blinder or if, after four years of watching half-arsed bands play half-cut songs, any set of razor sharp tunes played with angry honesty and wild-eyed determination would feel like a revelation"

Rock music is fucking great isn’t it? It can bash at your ears like little else, it can shake your heart or spit in your face with equal expertise, it has a power all of its own and, done right, it can make a grimy, under-attended rainy-day gig like this one feel like a downright essential spiritual gathering, 50,000 strong.

Opening proceedings to an audience of barely 20 punters though, Brighton kids The Ghost Of A Thousand might feel like Oxford was a wasted trip, but don’t let any disappointment show. They barrel through their set like it might be their last and if frontman Tom Lacey carries on hurling himself about the way he does tonight, screaming and sweating and kicking and leaping from drum set to barrier, that final show could be fairly soon. Raggedy, raging tunes like ‘Bored Of Math’ rumble along on a brilliant wave of adrenaline and spirit. If this band doesn't follow Gallows out of the sewer and up to the stars soon then something has gone horribly wrong.

The crowd numbers do swell for the headliners but it’s been four years since they released any new material and the hardcore scene has changed dramatically since. Only fools would doubt Poison The Well’s abilities though. And only the local idiots stayed home.

When the band walk onstage, up instruments and kick straight into ‘Ghostchant’, it takes all of five seconds for them to prove how bloody vital they can be. ‘Botchla’ is stunning, ‘Zombies…’ fits and starts at a murderous tempo and cuts from the band’s upcoming ‘Versions’ album, more post-rock and punk-roll than anything hardcore, sound like they could wash away all this hair and make up and start a scene all over again.

Jeff Moreira is so pumped up he makes the stage look half the size and his voice, harsh and strong for older numbers like ‘Slice Paper Wrists’ and clean and solid when the melodies sneak free from the mix, sounds like its being forced straight into your brain. From start to finish there’s a milling throng of faithful at the frontman’s feet, moving, moshing and shouting back the words so loud that the band look genuinely moved.

It is difficult to know whether Poison The Well are playing a blinder or if, after four years of watching half-arsed bands play half-cut songs, any set of razor sharp tunes played with angry honesty and wild-eyed determination would feel like a revelation. Then, when a closing ‘Nerdy’ not only has the room screaming along as one but also feels sacred in its brilliance, it’s clear that both things are true. Rock music is fucking great. And so are Poison The Well. It’s brilliant to have them back.

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