Live Review: Silverstein - Electric Ballroom, London 11/12/2022
At the end of Silverstein’s EU/UK tour, in the middle of December — though that fact likely meant nothing to the Canadians — we were lucky enough to be invited to Camden’s Electric Ballroom, to catch every insane second of their final UK outing for the year. With Koyo, Senses Fail, AND Comeback Kid supporting — a four band extravaganza.
As Koyo, took to the stage, the first of the four bands on the deceptively chilly December evening, the vast room was already half-full — at 6:30, that in itself is an achievement. And, as their one crowd-wide directive implied, the rules for their set were simple: “All you’ve got to do is jump up and down”.
Stripping to the chest pretty much immediately, lead singer Joey Chiaramonte seemed as typical a hardcore singer as you can be — full of anger, energy, and angst; jumping up and down, shouting, swearing, and generally having a great time. “Fuck up my life”, he commands the Camden crowd, before calling for everyone to get their phones out for the more typical emo-ballad, ‘Straight North’, harmonies and screams blending into a glorious cacophony; shortly after, the punky, hardcore ‘Diamond One’ graced the crowd, head banging galore — though no pits quite yet. Announcing a string of shows for next year, promising only a short wait before they’ll be back — despite this being their first time in London, it’s already too long a time coming — it was time for the final song. And what a song. ‘Ten Digits’ away, the five-piece drenched in red lights, furiously shouting their cares away, marked a fantastic way to end the first half an hour of the night.
Only fifteen minutes later, it was time for the next half hour: Senses Fail. Or so we hoped — as the lights went down, and hundreds starting chanting their name, there was not a movement to be seen. And, as it slowly faded into the ether, there was still nothing — except for a weirdly modulated, volume-varied intro track. And then: let there be light. With ol’ Buddy Nielsen strolling on stage, cowboy hat cockily perched on his head, it was time to begin. Bursting straight into Rum Is For Drinking, Not For Burning, the foursome immediately owned the stage — not least because of Nielsen’s charismatic jubilance, happily spinning around the stage shooting guns from his imaginary hip holsters. “It’s been seven fucking years”, he shrieked, as End Of The World/ A Game Of Chess kicked in, hips sashaying and legs a-kicking — getting surprisingly close to his head — at the acerbic anthem, guttural growls flying in here and there to exacerbate the chaos. And then — it was time for the pits; tipping his hat, plucking a jaunty tune, and a quick Shark Attack.
Microphone tricks, shimmying, cartwheels — freaking CARTWHEELS for Buried A Lie — and more ensued from the at-this-point undoubtedly fantastic frontman, along with the crowd-affirming vitriolic screams, if the hundreds of raised hands and breathless fans were anything to go by. Even plagued by some sound issues — cutting out fully during the afore mentioned Buried A Lie, and otherwise just being a little temperamental — their set was fantastic.
But, I hear you ask, however will Senses Fail beat cartwheels, microphone cable self-strangulation, and jumping off the drum kit? Easy — all that, just bigger. Cartwheel? Done that. Cartwheel into handstand though? Or maybe, hanging by your legs off the top of the scaffolding on the side of the stage, microphone between your teeth might be more your style? Basically: bigger, better, bolder. ‘Bite to Break Skin’ just saw everything left that the band had to offer, and then some. And not just the front-man, either: the whole band gave it their all, perhaps trying to make up for seven years’ worth of lost time.
A fantastic set, a charismatic and generally crazy frontman, and a set that ended up being way too short.
And that’s not even halfway through the night’s proceedings!
After a quick Take On Me — you haven’t lived until a crowd of mostly monochrome metal and metal-adjacent heads happily sing along to a-ha’s classic, voices breaking in an attempt to reach the lofty heights of Morten Harket — and the slow, Phil Collins’ classic ‘In the Air Tonight’ played over the sound system, it was time for Comeback Kid, the final support. Using the gorilla’s drum solo as their cue, the gut-punch of Heavy Steps immediately deafened anyone without building-site regulation ear defenders, the frantic, frenetic screams only matched by the chaotic strobes of the lights. Venturing forth to shout directly into the pit, Andrew Neufeld taunted the crowd into sending some surfers his way for False Idols Fall, before Do Yourself a Favor saw screeched demands to spin the pit, glasses and bottles thrown amongst the damned detritus of said circle. Up until this point, the night had been somewhat tame, but Talk is Cheap, taken from the band’s latest album, saw the head banging and violence come out in earnest, until you couldn’t tell whether the smoke was from the stage or the dust of the destroyed floor.
‘DANCE TO THE BEAT OF THIS FUCKING DRUM’, we’re told, as Absolute reaches its climax. As if the huge vortex in the middle of the crowd, which hadn’t stopped moving for the entirety of the set, needed the encouragement — it’s all anyone could do not to be sucked in and dashed against its jagged, resolute edges. Quickly followed by the methodically destructive, cultishly chanted Wasted Arrows, it wasn’t just the song coming to its end, but the whole set — though the crowd still flinging themselves both over the barrier and into one another sure put up a fight.
And, as the lights came up to show the self-destructive debauchery of the crowd, and Comeback Kid broke into final track Wake The Dead, it suddenly was. With chants of ‘Wake Up The Dead’ lavishing the Canadian hardcore heroes, and some guitar picks hastily thrown pit-ward, Comeback Kid had finished their portion of the tour.
But somehow, there was still yet more to come.
Enter stage right, Silverstein. With the electronic baseline from 2020’s ‘A Beautiful Place To Die’’s Infinite heralding their arrival, Shane Told and co quickly made their presence known; the surprisingly atmospheric Infinite, a musing on mental health, quickly followed by It’s Over, from this year’s ‘Misery Made Me’ — complete with the viciously screamed Bridge — immediately thrust everyone back into the thick of it. But they were nothing compared to what came next, as a cheeky question — “are you okay to hear some old shit?” — preceded both the slightly masochistic, self-deceptive Smile In Your Sleep from 2005’s ‘Discovering The Waterfront’ and the even older (and even more iconic) Smashed Into Pieces, from 2003’s debut album ‘When Broken is Easily Fixed’.
The whole set ended up being quite a nice mix of new and old. Not every album got a look in, unfortunately, but with eleven studio albums, seven of them getting a look in was in and of itself a hell of an achievement — disregarding the fact that supporting one of the eleven was the whole reason the tour was happening, and another of the eleven was a source of fear for the band, that it would fall through the cracks. Case in point, Bad Habits. Released right before Covid, it could easily have just disappeared. Instead, the thousand-and-a-bit voices screaming along seemed to resonate with the band, who slowly got more and more into their set as it progressed.
The visceral Vices and Whiplash followed in short succession, both seeing their fair share of ‘movement’ from the crowd, but the best was yet to come. Almost in stark opposition to the traditional less-heavy-as-the-band-goes-on timeline, it was time for one of the stand-outs of Misery Made Me: Die Alone, featuring the guttural growls of Comeback Kid’s Andrew Neufeld. “Get ready for a circle pit”, smirked Shane; “I’ll let you know when”. The when might as well have been ‘the next five minutes’, but the somewhat unsurprising appearance from Andrew definitely seemed to up the stakes. After, finally, came a few scant seconds to take a breath, as Shane apologised for the band’s general absence from Europe compared to closer to home. “There were years we didn’t come here because we were told that no one wanted to come, that no publications would want to write about us’ — thankfully, that’s a load of bollocks, case in point.
Then, seemingly to make up for lost time, what can only be described as a discographical smorgasbord followed after: Ultraviolet, Stand Amid The Roar, Broken Stars, and Your Sword Versus My Dagger flew by in quick succession, before Massachusetts provided a moment of fated wonder for the band. “The coolest thing just happened”, Shane gushed; “the guy that crowdsurfed over — as I grabbed his hand, just as I’m singing ‘back to California’ — he’s FROM California! What are the chances?” It’s the little things that make a show.
Sadly though, said show was coming to an end. Said end came in the shape of The Altar/ Mary, a song the band never expected to play live, but got so many requests for that they felt obligated to. It’s an odd one, very much a mash-up. Brutally heavy at first, with guitarist Paul Marc Rousseau taking over vocal duties during the verse, it then ends with Shane taking to the stage solo, drenched in red light and voice amplified through what seemed like a vocoder. And that was the end.
Well, obviously not the end. Surprisingly absolutely no one, the band still had at least one song left to play — there was no chance in hell they’d be allowed to leave Camden until they did. My Heroine, funnily enough, almost never made it to ‘Discovering The Waterfront’ — but Told, thankfully, refused to abandon it; thus, an anthem was born, and the rest is history.
Finally, it came time for the upbeat, pop-punky The Afterglow. The woefully short three minute closer, somehow encapsulating an entire relationship, from the easy and halcyon early days to the pain at the end, ended up being a perfect way to close the night — a sing along classic, even if one originally slightly off-piste for the hardcore emo band.
Four bands, ranging from the experienced elders to the plucky young’uns, and near two thousand music fans. And, to top it all off, it had even snowed. A bona fide Christmas miracle, a polite two weeks early, and a signifier that we really had just witnessed something special.
Words by James O’Sullivan
Photography by Kevin O’Sullivan
