Live at Cockpit on Friday, 2nd November 2001
The late nineties gave us a wealth of great music, including 3 Colours Red, 'Baby One More Time', and, uh, Symposium. You know, the ones who were always a bit cack until they made 'Killing Position', three minutes of almost-metal marvellous-ness, and then (just as they were starting to get good), split up.
Hell Is For Heroes is a bi-product of that break-up, and fuck me what a bi-product. We need Hell Is For Heroes like we need non-stick coating on pans.
They shamble onstage looking ashamed and frankly, rather too indie for my liking. Hooped jumpers and tracksuit tops make them look like they've been nicking from Shed Seven's wardrobe but from the opening harmonics of the first song this sartorial inelegance is immediately forgiven. Their guitars sound like trucks! They can wear whatever the fuck they like!
Justin eventually overcomes the nerves that made him mumble the band name like he was ashamed of it, and although he sometimes strays into that quasi-operatic style that nu-metal singers seem to favour, mostly he screams and shouts like a baby Mike Patton. He climbs the drum kit, he clambers speaker stacks, and (obligatory by all proper rawk bands) he steps astride the monitors and points at members of the audience.
"We're coming back in a month with Hundred Reasons!" they announce. So it seems that one of the "top ten best new bands in Britain" (thankyou, NME) are going to come away looking stupid. Go get 'em, the Heroes.