Melancholy, mellow and swelling with more than
a splash of metal. Oceansize delivered a poignant
and emotional set unlike your regular rock show;
no demands for chaos. No circle pits or walls
of death. No wit-laden banter. Just well written,
pensive tunes inducing head bobs and sporadic
fist pumps.
From the outset the notes that traversed the sonic
stream and penetrated even the hardest heart of
stone, chipping away to the molten core allowing
Koko's revellers' souls to breathe a sigh of relief.
Asymmetric riffs toyed with our ears. While the
doldrums banged and beaten from Mark Heron's gargantuan
skins broke the static crowd causing shoulders
to sway and heads to nod, albeit gingerly at first
as if moving is not an option. Heck, even enthusiastic
finger points flitted up and down from the pit.
The quiet quintet's performance may be compared
with the likes of Editors. Their winning formula
created a choreographed set of metal ridged rock
multiplied by elongated harmonies minus interactive
chat. Banter about 'banter banter banter music
music music' bookmarked the show; they needed
no more. Oceansize's obvious spark for captivating
a thousand or so people with their cathartic back
catalogue shone through in every note. Ethereal
white lights simply skimmed over top of the audience,
hypnotising every ear and eye as the Mancunians
played out highlights of their 'best album ever',
2010's Self-Preserved While The Bodies Float Up.
Oceansize flexed their alt rock muscles for what
was a decent show but was sadly jaded by the early
curfew - being on route home by 10pm is hardly
living the rock n roll dream - and what was seen
by many as a self-indulgent encore merely added
salt to the wound.
Oceansize - 3/5
Review By Jessica Acreman
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