Words by Joanna Long
There are support bands that ease you gently into an evening, and then there are Bathing Suits. With two guitars, bass, drum machine/mixer and vocals, they delivered hardcore dance music with a healthy dose of chaos. By the time I arrived, their singer was performing in underwear and open jeans; by the end, most of that had been discarded as they bounced around the stage with an increasing sense of liberation. This is a band that wants you to dance, although encouragement came with the good-humoured caveat that allowances would be made for the ‘oldies’ or anyone whose hips no longer quite work. The fun was infectious and plenty of the crowd duly joined in.
At times, Bathing Suits felt like instrumental chaos that really shouldn’t work, yet absolutely does. There was a touch of artistic indulgence towards the end, but it was also part of the spectacle. By the time they left the stage, a certain bewilderment seemed to have settled over parts of the room, prompting plenty of conversation on the way back to the bar. And surely that’s part of the point? Then it was time for Man/Woman/Chainsaw.
I’ve followed the band for some time, through their radio plays and, more recently, reviewing their album, Cannonball, so I already knew we were in for something of an emotional ride. This, their first Newcastle gig, was a sell-out; The Grove packed with smiling faces, and by just four songs in it was obvious that Newcastle had taken them firmly to heart.
Man/Woman/Chainsaw are anything but a static live band. There is a constant interplay between Billy Ward on vocals and guitar and Clio Starwood on electric violin, Clio bouncing from one side of the stage to the other before Billy joining in. There were even a couple of attempts to stir up some mosh-pit action, although in a room this packed they never quite took flight.
What continues to fascinate me about Man/Woman/Chainsaw, though, is their musicality. The vocals often sit slightly behind the instrumentation, allowing fuzzy guitars and heavy drums to push forward rather than simply providing a backdrop. It creates an unusual, sometimes deliberately muted sound that gives every element of the band room to breathe. Vera Leppänen’s vocals bring another dimension entirely. Eyes closed, brow furrowed, her expression seemed to carry every ounce of the love, rejection and emotional aftermath contained within the songs. Her voice is clear and strong without ever overpowering the song or the melodies. Billy brings the grit and darkness, particularly on tracks such as ‘Goddam Lizard Man’ and ‘The Thing’, while Emmie-Mae Avery’s vocals sounded astonishingly close to the recorded versions.
Then there’s the sheer inventiveness of the instrumentation. Billy Doyle (guitar) quietly switches between guitars, at one point bringing his clearly favoured Flying V, known as Reginald or Reggie, and playing it with a bow. The result is eerie and haunting, working beautifully alongside Clio’s violin; but don’t be fooled by Billy appearing almost rooted to the spot at times either, the quiet moments rarely last. Around all of this come cowbells, tambourines, bubbles and whatever else Man/Woman/Chainsaw decide a song requires, while Lola Cherry keeps everything anchored from the darker reaches at the back of the stage on drums. There is light and shade everywhere, and the band constantly swap roles and sounds to deliver the next facet of each song.
Perhaps the most remarkable thing is just how young Man/Woman/Chainsaw are. The emotional maturity of the lyrics would be impressive on its own; layer that with their musicianship and the result is something that occasionally feels closer to a theatrical sonic performance than a conventional gig. By the end, fans were already bartering for setlists, with £5 offers being cheerfully thrown around.
Catch Man/Woman/Chainsaw soon, because at this rate, the price of those setlists might be going up rather quickly.
