It is a cure for all your subdued maladies, an honest release. I have no choice but to enjoy the mesmeric moment. I personally, having essentially ditched all regard to professionally note the events of the gig in sequence. The heat of basement rises to the depths of dehydration. The vocals rings through in a deafening onslaught, the mosh pit grows as unknowing participants are converted to the choir of shouting appreciators, band members fling themselves into the crowd, this show is not a separation but meets at the crossroads of sound, the junction of spectators and players, we join in the act of ascension. But, the tracks of ‘Scrapper’ and the unreleased ‘Cold’ stir a further desire for more escape in the crowd, they break free, utterly wild, an apocalyptic mania. What they denote as shoegaze is shown in the middle of the show with a poetic ode to their ability to understand the necessity of slower music to aid in their message of a remembrance of angst. But, do not fault the influence of ability in this talented group, the knowledge of waiting to release future songs shines through. The songs continue endlessly, some short owing to their punk and heavy metal roots. The heavy metal guitar erases future hearing ability, all hell break loose in their Buckfast infused chaos.
There is distortion, brief breaks in the drum’s mantra as expression is shown through the flailing of sweaty limbs. In my many ventures to YES, I have never seen such a bustle and it could only crescendo. The stories of sofa surfing turns literal in what is appreciation personified as the crowd-surfing starts. A song known only currently as ‘Headphone’ (wait for the release) is played. The crowd who know the track beckon forward for their communion. The crowd began to move intensely with sheer delight as the lyrics with snarled through the microphone accompanied with desirable drum beat that elevates the track to vicious level of empathy for the feeling of sofa surfing through another crazed weekend is a universally known one. The tension was tenuously held tightly until ‘Sofa Surfing’ surged through the sound system. Opening with ‘Salt’ the crowd was already bouncing, with the occasional casual thrust of a forearm as the forearm of the frontman removed his mike-stand, this was to be a moving gig highly involved in the beloved interaction between band and crowd.
The greenly lit stage cast the onlookers onto the verdant meadows of the Emerald Isles on this Paddy’s Day, a most fitting day to be given the company of Enola Gay’s Irish start, such a setting was perfect for the events that unfolded. Such a gig, with such a stimulating sound was to be what was required to burst through into bodily freedom. There was a definite urge of the crowd as they impatiently waited in the most polite English manner for Enola Gay to come forth after what we knew that after our serene Summer that COVID had in fact not ended after its closing but were had been coerced into more months of biding our time. If given the chance, you should head aggressively to their forthcoming shows with “NO SURRENDER”. It must be stated with the utmost sincerity that Maruja and Yabba possessed a near diplomatic ability to rush the crowd into an intense frenzy before Enola Gay graced the stage. It was, as I later found out, their first showing in England after attaining a noisy recognition from the likes of Fred Perry Subculture, Iggy Pop and SXSW. A summer where I serendipitously stumbled upon Enola Gay at the 100 Club. A summer where the sun finally shone as it appeared initially to the masses that COVID had finally ceased to exist. As YES Basement erupted in an enthralling energetic release, I could not help but cast my memory amidst the joy to the previous summer.