ninehertz

Missed Attaku, but I'm not so sure I would have missed out, judging by the Will Haven-copyist accusations I've heard (not that I don't love Will Haven).

Lazarus Blackstar were a dirty black revelation, unfurling perfect doom riff after doom riff, underneath Paul Catten's unhinged, desperate vocals. He's a real showman, doing the whole eyes-going-in-different-directions Terry Gilliam in Monty Python's Spanish Inquisition sketch thing to a tee. In fact he reminds me a little of Mike Patton when he went into his completely crusty debauched phase just as Angel Dust was beginning to make mega-bucks. This band are magnificent, shame the crowd didn't show up to witness them.

Buried Inside were equally thrilling, but for some unknown reason, the audience still fails to materialise, their beautifully constructed emotional overload obviously not being enough to satisfy the Bullet for My Valentine kids of Tunbridge Wells. On Relapse, America's own Buried Inside are a skinny cross between Isis and Neurosis, and while that sounds a little predictable, the way they fling themselves into the caverns of noise they create is totally overwhelming. The sight of the long-haired singer wrapping himself round the mikestand and revealing himself to be thinner than it is an unusual one for this kind of band too.

If you love sincerity, great guitar dynamics, and guttural roaring vocals with a big dollop of political outrage, you'll love this band. If you are a closed-minded idiot who thinks that My Chemical Romance are as good as it gets, then shoot yourself, please.