VLURE
Night time And Day Cafe, Manchester
twenty seventh August 2023

Greater than only a band, quickly to be a cult with 1000’s following with a way of thinking shot by way of the center of these belonging to its rightful ranks, a message essential to broadcast far and extensive, VLURE take over Manchester. 

There’s certain to be a buzz of pleasure round a band like VLURE. What’s to not like?
It’s arduous to disagree with techno-punk from Glasgow with a gang mentality intact, all gigantic synth melodies shot from the jaws of the ’80s and anthemic choruses that will make the ’90s howl with hysteria. As their single rightly reminds us, and as is usually the mark of what’s spiritually invaluable inside punk and rave, euphoria.

An identical way of thinking is skilled tonight at Manchester’s Night time And Day. Giddy with the fact that is occurring, but additionally…not shocked, (they have been born to be right here clearly) the band is quickly armed to the enamel with a fierce concoction of monstrous digital rock and scathing post-punk spliced collectively in the identical seam. An intense conflation of the Prodigy and the Intercourse Pistols, Dais and Detroit techno digging into the meat of wherever the band wind up.

The band arrived with the type of confidence that warrants the entire rock star gestures that inflate this cosy (and expensive) venue and the cluster of crowd members inside its most important pit to the dimensions of one thing like Knebworth. Arms outstretched, knitted vests eliminated as if they weigh heavier than an armoured breastplate, fingers resting on knees as if they’ve been punched within the intestine or have come near dying when put by way of a sequence of gruelling navy drills. They imagine in all the things they do. Each phrase. Each beat.

New singles This Fantasy and Reduce It are digital earthquakes that depart a gaping gap of their wake. Rave-ready breakdowns, amping up the trance to transcendental ranges to the extremes. The previous is all manic, Trainspotting soliloquies, experimental hip-hop Pollock work and home pianos, hovering warped robot-ghost vocals and cascading bass grooves. It glistens and it glitches. It fizzles and it flips with delirious energy prefer it’s plugged into the mainframes of the erupting planet.

The latter races by way of, and washes over the group, casting a spell over them with seductive, mellifluous vocals floating on clouds, stimulating the spillage of dopamine over the in any other case brutal, concrete fortresses that wouldn’t really feel misplaced at both Woodstock 99 or at Berlin’s Atonal within the late ’80s; the very ecstatic essence of that competition’s staged ”Abschlusskundgebung’’ – in different phrases, the ultimate rally, the final word frontier. Right here, very a lot alive and kicking when the dizzying, synths spin, the unyielding yelps and spear-sharp sentiments are shouted with a collective, interconnected spark that ignites and electrifies all the things inside attain.

The very important clubland-meets-underground exercise Shattered Religion climaxes and crashes and climaxes once more, eternally driving some insane, industrial rollercoaster that shakes the bricks away from the partitions with the identical informal manner a block of Jenga is faraway from the tower. All hovering keyboards with gold-capped enamel. All manic rasp and heaving vocals, EBM and NDH muscle mass scorching and searing white gentle into the room.

Present Me How To Dwell Once more shoots a raygun into the group, a twig of intense lasers and sonic indicators firing forwards and backwards, successful single so far as hits go. Meaty, mangled basslines, immortal acid squelches and commanding vocals drenched in lightyears of delay, are stretched and stabbed past restore between completely different areas and occasions, compelling sufficient to summon one from the darkish and in protest, drenching all the things in gasoline after which tossing a matchstick into the puddle, having fun with watching the previous burn to then construct upon it once more.

They beat their naked chest till the tattoos flip blue as a result of they’re going into battle. A lot emotion invested, a lot physicality concerned, the tattoos might run, the jewelry might soften. Baying for the blood of one thing solely they’ll see however everybody can really feel. A small crowd in an overpriced venue uplifts the dimensions of the Atlantic ocean with sufficient sweat to refill it oozes out right here from each Fred Perry polo shirt and pore in sight.

Dwell, the songs tackle new that means. Extra assault and velocity and muscle. Their tackle darkish synth-pop is dirtied up somewhat, stored awake for hours, perhaps even days. That distorted Glasgow grit is of course ingrained of their DNA, as is the reflective shine of town that illuminates it cooly because the recorded singles attest to. However right here, they shoot by way of any impediment, parting seas while suturing souls collectively in the best way punk and rave served because the medium of the day to do exactly that. Come collectively.

That is unabating, anthemic rave punk with a broad Scottish snarl reciting righteous soliloquies from the Scottish streets, unifying techno euphoria with energy chords, synth-laden soundscapes and volcanic rock riffs wrapped up into one heaving hybrid beast and spat again into town, then again out once more within the shadow of the afterparty. They will see one thing. Sense one thing developing. An vitality catalysed by the intense, younger vitality of the dual demons, Hamish Hutcheson and Conor Goldie, that devour a portion of the stage, not forgetting the menacing stare and enchanting keyboard spells solid upon the group by Alex Pearson, who vocalises the cosmos, all pushed instantly into the darkness of the center by Niall Goldie’s bass rumble, and Carlo Kreikaard’s self-destructive drums.

There’s most likely a comparability right here to be made with Bristol’s Scalping. The convergence of electronics and rock hasn’t been been executed in such a approach because the ’90s. But what Scalping retains from us, VLURE reveals, warts and all; an identification. There’s nonetheless a present and the notions of constructing an area one’s personal by way of no matter distinctive tropes the band have at their disposal. On this case, a spectacle exploding from throughout the contours of a hypnotic inexperienced dice. Their cybercore emblem displayed on a backdrop, all alien spikes and rebellious.

However much less of the visible veils that repairs a band’s desired mystique make a distinct type of splash altogether. Right here the band rise up shut and private and slash by way of the scabs of town, a feverish infiltration of house, an imaginative flag stabbed into the again of the map with their sights set on what potentialities slumber past the partitions of the horizon. VLURE make themselves identified, standing on the podiums, Christ-like, happy with what’s been achieved, protecting over what they’ve and the place the longer term might unfold into, pouring themselves into each second as if it will dissipate into skinny air on the push of a button or the jangling slam of a money register in a morbid retail unit. Fuck the comparability.

Heartbeat’s hardcore techno precision pumps blood all through the arterial tracks of the old-fashioned. Ripples of arpeggiated digital hurricanes and murderous, chrome steel synths stab the air, thunderous drums and bass rumbles peddle the undercurrent with complete cool and unwavering dominance. Both the voice of God with a Scottish accent, or an angel solid down for attending too many raves fairly than doing his saintly bidding in return for a free room for eternity at heaven’s premium motel, the rasp is magnetic. The sheer rage is infectious.

Funnily sufficient, they cowl God Is A DJ by Faithless, reconfiguring its basic keyboard melody and unparalleled sonic spectacle to new realms of street-level grit. Whether or not or not the band are an digital group disguised as a punk group (or vice versa) is actually regardless of right here. The integral, basic spirit that supercharges these kinds of music is what makes it a extremely fascinating and related rendition.

Fascinating how the members of the band every have an element to play in filtering and funnelling this anthem by way of their very own interpretive station. Related in how, as is clear on nights like this, and is certain to be ever-evident in years to return, the congregation numbers belonging to this particular church is barely going to extend. Consider me. Tonight, Manchester is their church.

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All phrases by Ryan Walker.

Pictures by Gary Lambert