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The None

Brudenell Social Club, Leeds.

The None

14+ only. 14s to 17s must be accompanied by an adult. No refunds will be given for incorrectly booked tickets.

Ticket type Cost (face value)? Quantity
GENERAL ADMISSION £0.00 (£0.00)

More information about The None tickets

The None have history. Matter might be their first release, but each member of the quartet is well-seasoned in the machinations of music making: Between them they’ve played in Bloc Party, Blue Ruth, Cassels, Youth Man, and Frauds. Based on that, you might think you have an inkling as to what they sound like. You’d be wrong. Without intending a slight on any of those earlier projects, The None are far greater than the sum of their parts.

Matter is a brooding, furious blast of an EP. Guitars are slashed rather than strummed. Drums disappear into a cloud of over-cranked gain whilst caustic bass fuzz forms a fizzing bedrock for frontperson Kaila Whyte’s marrow-melting vocals to crash through. Last heard intoning over paranoid basement electronics as Blue Ruth, Whyte’s delivery here harks back to their Youth Man days, veering from a soaring croon to demonic, guttural shrieks, and every iteration in between.

This is a juggernaut of performers who know exactly when to let the leash go slack. Their influences might be worn like patches on denim sleeves—Shellac, Jesus Lizard, and Unwound undoubtedly make regular appearances on their stereos—but the conviction with which each track is conveyed dares anyone to deny their authenticity. A deft ability to pivot between modes expands across all four of these noise rock eruptions. The lung-bursting, galloping punk fury of finale “Cheap Cloth Soon Frays” transitions into a call-and-response of howls and blast beats before easing back into the pocket with a strutting bassline. Similarly, opening track “Plow” shifts from a blaring alarm into a cacophony of guitars which sound like chalk boards being dragged over burst glass and nails. Production-wise, they’re venturing out beyond standard punk fare, too. Amidst the clash of fresh, bright strings on “Pigs Need Feeding,” whispered voices appear bringing tiny snatches of missed conversation whilst Whyte offers up a political roar of “They’re selling warheads on my doorstep.”

Most miraculously, however, throughout the barrage of threshed instruments, bellowed vocals, and pounded drums, The None somehow manage to summon infectious melodies from the center of this flaming blizzard. Whether they can sustain this energy over the course of a full-length and keep it interesting remains to be seen but, on the evidence of these bruising 17 minutes, they’re ones to keep firmly in your sights.