Live Review: Blank Relam, Four Door, Lucy Cliche, Sewer, Thigh Master

Thigh Master hit the stage and it's immediate that tonight will be a cavalcade of harsh, warped delights. Not that the newly-minted four-piece are particularly abrasive, but the addition of a rhythm guitar to underpin Matt Ford's slack-jawed howls and loose guitar playing provides a steeliness that had been missing in past shows.
Sewers have also been fleshing out the line-up, with Harry Byrne on guitar to free up Shan Corrigan to rant and bark his way through a blistering set. Funnily enough it's Byrne's performance tonight that is the more visceral – flailing and loose, pushing and shoving Corrigan as if to get a rise out of him. This doesn't happen, with the frontman remaining a laconic contradiction to the acerbic dankness he drawls. The set itself is an electrifying swamp of barely contained aggression.
Naked On The Vague are here, but performing under separate guises. Lucy Cliché offers her synth pop meanderings. The sweeping electronica on display here is one dejected hook after another, adhering to romantic new wave extremities and despondent futurist wistfulness – a sound for the future isolationist with a look to love. It's an enthralling listen. NOTV alum Matthew Hopkins joins with Jonathan Hochman for a Four Door set that builds on Cliché's understated electronic machinations, their dark jazz seductions infusing with synth shadows and sonic stutters, a lurching netherworld of bubbling minimalist psychological horror. Both sets bleed into each other, becoming an intriguing, elongated interlude into the unknown.
The night though belongs to local heroes Blank Realm whose excellent new album Grassed Inn is being launched. Their set is typically, lush, energetic and fun – it's impossible to not enjoy yourself. Perennial favourite Falling Down The Stairs is again a favourite here, with the band having tapped the winning formula that exemplifies their DNA – Sarah Spencer's brisk, spidery keys filled with light and Luke Walsh exemplifies a guitar jangle as Luke Spencer locks down the band from flying into the sun. Dan Spencer keeps the beat and delivers the vocals with his usual panache, yet it's the breakaway from the chorus where everything feels about to implode and run off the tracks that is the true indicator of their brilliance. Back To The Flood is a joyous escapade that chugs along with relentless vigour; Bulldozer Love highlights the marriage of pop and krautrock that the band has come to epitomise. The mixture between euphoria and melancholia inherent in Dan Spencer's lyrics for Reach You On The Phone is a deft touch, and showcases how far these guys have come. There is time for a couple of oldies though, with Cleaning Up My Mess a pleasant inclusion.