Sleaford Mods, LIINES: O2 Academy, Liverpool


Sleaford Mods

Sleaford Mods deliver a hard hitting set in Liverpool and Getintothis’ Howard Doupé was on the receiving end.

It’s a Saturday night, alright for fighting is it?

Presumably Jason Williamson, if not in agreement, would certainly endorse some social commentary on such a spectacle. There’s certainly a possibility of a ruckus when the mods are in town – with or without parkas.

There definitely was abrasion in the air or it at least felt that way, whilst perilously navigating up the stairs and past a few interesting sights on the way in.

Sleaford Mods have a reputation: one of the only touring acts out there who speak to the often-ignored voice of society. The deliverers of punk-pop rants who’ve had plenty of material to write about since their last visit.

First off, the dance floor out front needs some coaxing to be occupied. This foreign territory needs some pre-surveying – send in the cannon fodder. Sorry, we mean support. In this case all-female punk trio LIINES.

They’re raw, but killer in their delivery. Dressed in obligatory black outfits and DM’s there’s elements of nearly every significant punk reference point of the last 40 years.

Thunderous bass mixed with the drumming tightness akin to Stephen Morris blended to the vocals of Shirley Manson. If she’d ever have favoured to actually let go instead of radio-friendliness – Poly Styrene indeed!

By the end of the blitzkrieg half hour, the set comes to a slamming end. The band are truly grateful for the echoing applause and positive thanks showered onto them. You can always rely upon a Scouse crowd to get behind a good support.

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It’s not even 9pm when the stage is cleared, and one lonely mic stand remains bathed in the dimmed blue lights. The PA pounds on, 1-2, 1-2 check, but where’s the laptop? Don’t fear, on saunters Andrew Fearn, the musical maestro in this dastardly duo.

Plug in, flip up lid and boot up. The crowd think the gig’s started as the beats erupt, only to be suddenly silenced to instant boos – calm down it’s the soundcheck.

When they finally get the set started with Eton Alive’s opening track Into The Payzone, Williamson arrives hungry. There’s anger in his eyes as the evenings non-stop prowling commences. Flipside follows pushing the PA to electronic frazzlement whilst Williamson with sultry dance moves becomes the enigmatic performer he is.

Not forgetting Fearn grinning insanely whilst stood five steps away from the laptop, bottle swaggering in front.

The most hard-hitting tracks follow with the violent imagery of Stick In A Five And Go from their self-titled EP released last year on Rough Trade whipping up the mosh-pit down the front.

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O.B.C.T., B.H.S. and Top It Up carry on their political and social observations.

With old favourite TCR being shoe-horned in. Williamson continues his visual rdisplay of what can only be described as some insane performance HIT workout. Bathed in sweat and veins bulging out of his neck, the redness is beaming as the body twitches and contorts.

Jolly fucker follows – it’s direct venom doesn’t even need time to coagulate. The mosh pit is rallied up again. There’s a few white looking faces barely hanging on to the edges of the danger zone. Drinks still in hand, at this stage of the night it’s quite remarkable. Then they’re off.

The hard-hitting encore that includes Jobseeker and Tied Up In Nottz means the end comes far too early for this rallied up bunch of Saturday night modders.

Williamson thanks the crowd for “Coming out on a Saturday night and seeing this pairs of cunts. Hope it’s not as long till next time.”

Don’t think anyone will be demanding a refund.

Images by Getintothis’ Mark Holt