Words: Callie Petch

Although the PA music between sets may be indie disco central, the basement room at Manchester’s famed YES venue is all emo tonight.  Whilst Friko and shaene might argue that they’re just as much influenced by mid-00s The Shins/Arcade Fire indie rock (for the former) and fuzzed-out shoegaze (for the latter), the vibe is most clearly second-wave emo.

Photo by Ciara Ruane (@ciararu).

shaene, in particular, has set her north star firmly at American Football.  Melodic, searching, highly vulnerable songs that, even when augmented by three other band members, betray their origins as bedroom creations.  She announces early on in the set that the vast majority of songs played tonight are new, one of which (unnamed like almost all the others) even designated as “NEW new,” but they still feel a lot like an artist yet to fully find their own voice.  You can set your watch by the recurrent trope of an alternating chord sequence which rests for a brief beat before resolving with the rest of the band crashing back in.  At least on this evening, their vocals are very strained, aiming for notes just slightly out of their range with a nasally pinch, to a degree which reminds me of Snail Mail’s live performance troubles.

And yet, the vibe does work.  shaene may be in embryonic stages of their musical journey, but her music absolutely nails the revivalist-but-modernised sensation of wave-crashing emotion that she’s going for.  If she’d broken through two years earlier, at least one of these songs would’ve been given pride of place on the I Saw the TV Glow soundtrack.  And, yeah, I’ll admit that it’s real cool to see a fellow trans person up on stage pouring their hearts out to the sort of music which soundtracked a lot of my egg-based adolescence.  So, despite what the criticisms and faint praise may indicate, shaene has gotten my attention.  She’s got tangible potential, it’s just about nurturing it and moving into a more specific sonic identity.

Photo by Ciara Ruane (@ciararu).

That doesn’t even necessarily mean shedding all obvious influence touchstones, either.  Friko kick off their set with an unreleased new song which has a similar dramatic escalation and short-sharp chaotic release as vintage The Walkmen, yet said release is far more punky and off-rails than that band.  Admittedly, this could also have been a result of vocalist/guitarist Niko Kapetan’s first of many guitar problems which he will insist plague the set – said abrupt collapse of the full-band release has him interject an annoyed “fuckin’ guitars” before going back to singing alone.  “Crimson to Chrome” goes through two aborted starts as he tries to fix whatever the problem is, but the crowd still put their full hearts into the Bright Eyes-y chorus each time it kicks up.  I personally am not certain I would’ve figured that there was a major equipment issue going on if Kapetan didn’t keep mentioning it.  “Chemical” still buzzsaws with garage rock energy, “Crashing Through” still sees his guitar trading noisy fuzz-blasts with David Fuller’s pit-dropping bass, and the additional reverb effects on “Cardinal”’s intro give the song a ghostly reminiscence which befits the lyric’s sentiments.

Photo by Ciara Ruane (@ciararu).

Perhaps these perceived issues speak more to a band who clearly put their everything into a performance and, as such, feel every cock-up however perceptible.  Drummer Bailey Minzenberger pounds into her kit like she’s giving a track violent CPR, each crash an extra jolt of energy, with the tricksy chorus time signature of “Chemical” creating a chaotic circular spin whose eventual straightening out induces all the serotonin.  Fuller outright manages to break a string during “Crashing Through” from going too hard.  Kapetan, for his part, shows off the wild versatility of his vocal range that was already impressive on their outstanding record, Where we’ve been, Where we go from here, but stands out even more in a live context.  He can give worn-out older-than-their-years exhalation on “Crimson to Chrome,” he can out-Win Butler the man himself on “Where We’ve Been,” but then he can also switch over to an angelic choirboy falsetto on chamber pop ballad “For Ella,” before just letting all that pent-up angst cathartically explode on “Get Numb To It!”

Photo by Ciara Ruane (@ciararu).

It’s a multifaceted voice fit for a multifaceted band, even with the overarching tone being (as mentioned) emo as all heck.  In fact, that emo-ness is perhaps most accountable for the giant singalongs that accompany all of the big choruses from the album.  Where we’ve been may not be one of the buzziest debuts of the year, but it is one whose cult has been slowly growing since its February release and those who love it, love it.  Deeper cuts not from the main album get the soaking-in attentive treatment, the two outright ballads performed have quiet backing vocals provided by pockets of the room, and the end of every song gets a deafening roar of appreciation.  On the way out, I can overhear two guys rhapsodising to each other “yeah, that’s why it’s the best album of the year!”

They say this after the show ends on “Get Numb To It!”, a performance that sees a mosh pit swallow the vast majority of the room, the band practically collapse on the floor when they finish, and damn-near everybody yell out the chorus with their whole damn chests.  Said chorus: “And it never gets better, it just gets twice as bad because you let it, so you better get numb to it!  Get numb to it!  Get numb to it!”  At the risk of being very corny, that hits real different as 2024 comes to a close with another incoming Trump presidency.  The kind of chorus whose open-hearted sincere feeling, even as it preaches embracing numbness, is emo at its finest.  It’s right at home in the intimacy of YES’ basement, yet also feels destined for significantly bigger rooms sooner rather than later, much like Friko themselves.

Where we’ve been, Where we go from here is available now via ATO Records.  An Expanded Edition will be released on 22nd November.