Wounds - Borderline, London
We’re spoiled tonight with all the Irish musical talent on display. Wounds are here along with And So I Watch You From Afar and LeFaro, and they do a stunning job of warming up the crowd with their visceral punk attack. Blasting from the speakers as soon as they hit the stage, the audience is awoken from their stupor and invited to enter a world where this band are the sole people you should be focussing on, their heavy, angular riffs grabbing you by the scruff of the neck and shaking you about till they have your undivided attention.
Aidan Coogan is quite the hardcore frontman, stalking around the stage while his eyes dart about looking for something for him to mess around with, the entire venue his playground. Tonight he settles on hanging from the ceiling and hitching a ride on the back of a nearby photographer, who he then promises a drink. His harsh wailing vocals sound at times like they are trying to imitate the guitar, a complete barrage of vicious noise. Talking of six-strings, the guitar has that harsh, post-punk sound that has been the trademark of Liars in recent years, except these guys play everything at double the speed and as if their lives truly depend on it.
The band close with ‘Dead, Dead Fucking Dead’, the title track from their recently released EP, and for the people populating this London crowd tonight, Wounds have collectively ripped them a new one. But in the nicest possible way.