Dot to Dot 2015 – Manchester

Live Review by Joe Goggins and Chris Ogden | 03 Jun 2015

Sometimes, you get the impression that a festival needs to grow into itself. When Dot to Dot first came to Manchester back in 2010, it was barely deserving of the title; the concept, of course, is that the venues are scattered across the city centre map, but most of the action that year took place under one roof, on the other side of town from tonight’s endeavours at Manchester Uni’s Student Union. Still, with a lineup boasting the likes of Beach House, Wild Beasts and Blood Red Shoes – as well as an appearance from future world-beaters Fun. in a cramped council chamber – it did enough to ensure it quickly became a fixture on the city’s musical calendar.

As of last year, Dot to Dot was still over on Oxford Road – albeit making better use of the corridor, with the appearance of Macauley Culkin’s The Pizza Underground at Zoo a talking point – but this time it’s crossed over to the Northern Quarter for the first time ever, utilising the area’s myriad bars, venues and creative spaces to expand the festival considerably. [JG]

With wristbands acquired, we scour the Northern Quarter for our first band and stumble upon the Torontonian brother/sister duo K.I.D. at The Castle Hotel. That the acronym is short for Kids in Despair surprises no-one as they run through their thumping industrial pop anthems Drunk Enough To Love Me and I Wish I Was Your Cigarette. Backed up by brother Bobby Lo’s moody electronics, singer Kara Lane has something of the Amy Lee or Shirley Manson about her, looking sultry and damaged as she wraps her jumper around her like a straitjacket. With their bitter wisecracks and blank-faced dance routine their electro-goth-gloom is a bit miserable, but that’s what all those vices will do for you. [CO]

Alongside a willingness to broaden the festival’s horizons comes an appetite to promote Dot to Dot alumni; last year, local four-piece PINS played a raucous late-night set at Sound Control, but find themselves in altogether more serene surroundings this time. The Central Methodist Hall is a strange setting for a rough, unvarnished rock and roll set like this one – especially when you consider the heartbreaking ban on alcohol and the early evening time slot – but they make it work, tearing through a slew of cuts from forthcoming sophomore LP Wild Nights – many of which will long since have been familiar to local gig-goers – as well as choice tracks from Girls Like Us. They’ve always played live with a vigour that outstrips their recorded output, and that trend continues apace tonight. [JG]

After some aimless noodling at the Soup Kitchen, the night starts to take a clear shape with Hinds at the Central Methodist Hall. As one of the designated 14+ venues there’s just good clean fun here (for now…), and the four Madrileñas quickly win the crowd over with their charming 60s garage and girl group approach. Approaching their set with the admirable aim of playing as many songs as they can within their half-hour, Hinds are a carefree lot, banging through woozy sing-alongs like Bamboo and Trippy Gum while beaming from ear to ear. Their sunny disposition is so compelling that we can’t help but feel like summer’s arrived a few months early. [CO]

Another name that appeared in considerably bigger type on this year’s poster is Honeyblood; last time out, they were readying their (superb) self-titled debut, and plenty’s changed since; original drummer Shona McVicar quit the fold last Autumn, but on tonight’s evidence, it’s helped - rather than hindered – Stina Tweeddale’s project. Cat Myers is a revelation behind the kit, bringing a raw energy to proceedings that was conspicuous by its absence previously. Fresh off of a six-week stint in the States with Belle & Sebastian, the Glasgow pair have come on hugely from last year – Tweeddale seems a much more confident live performer – and new song Babes Never Die bodes well for album number two.

Honeyblood were amongst the bands taking the stage at the Roadhouse, all of whom will have been amongst the very last to play there; it’s set for closure at the end of May, and for all its faults – the lack of a raised stage favours the lofty – it’s going to be sorely missed. It’s a proper old-fashioned rock venue, rough around the edges but with a great sound system and history practically seeping from the walls – and whilst the lack of hipster pretence or corporate sponsorship perhaps explains its failure to survive, the loss of another of this type of venue – already a dying breed – is something to lament. Still, Cymbals Eat Guitars do their damnedest to make sure the place doesn’t go quietly; their late-night set, comprised primarily of songs from last year’s searing return-to-form LOSE, is a high-energy triumph – closer Laramie is the riotous standout. [JG]

Given their infamous reputation, Fat White Family are surprisingly respectful towards the Methodist Hall. Good behaviour is all relative, of course, as Lias Soudi only strips to his jeans after the first song and some suspiciously alcoholic-looking drinks are thrown high into the air. Still, this grot-pop mob from London do evoke a strange religious fervour with their sideburns and flying helmets, opener Auto Neutron packing a heavy punch with its drone-like chanting and Saul Adamczewski’s hypnotic crashing guitars. Saoudi leans into the crowd and they lean back, leading to an almighty scrum. At least there weren’t any donkeys this time. [CO]

Back at the Roadhouse, The Hotelier are attracting a growing following on the back of their gut-wrenching second album Home, Like Noplace Is There. Even though they take the stage close to midnight, their cathartic, catchy emo-punk simply cannot be listened to passively. As the band soar through opener An Introduction to The Album and bark through Life In Drag, every word of Christian Holden’s compassionate storytelling is shouted back by the diehards at the front. With their full-bloodedness and Joy Division-referencing gang chants, there’s no doubt that by the end a few more people have found a new home for their hang-ups.

For the few hardy souls that stick around until 2am, Single Mothers are a fitting reward. Combining crunching post-hardcore with Drew Thompson’s scathing, sordid tales, the London, Ontario punks sound like the Hold Steady if they drank in the Star and Garter. Thompson is an affable sleazeball and an excellent raconteur, joking about ‘cheeky Nandos’ with the young band The Narwals and sharing Craig Finn’s talent for making a crowd seem like reluctant confidants. The set’s triumph is Money, when the onslaught finally lets up to give Thompson space. ‘All I want to do is sit here complaining,’ he gripes. It’s at that point in a night when you know it's time to leave.[CO]

Back over at the Methodist Hall, proceedings are effectively headlined by Best Coast, who recently righted the wrongs of their misstep of a second album, The Only Place, with its excellent follow-up, California Nights. The L.A. duo were never likely to be able to translate that album’s razor-sharp polish to the stage, but these slightly rougher interpretations – drenched, as is guitarist Bobb Bruno’s M.O., in copious reverb – work smartly too, allowing them to weave new cuts – Feeling Ok, Heaven Sent, Fine Without You – in alongside highlights from their modern classic of a debut, Crazy for You. They’re a much more potent  live proposition than last time around – the very fact that they take the stage, in tongue-in-cheek style, to the uncompromising strains of Metallica’s Battery suggests they’re more comfortable in their own skin than before – and Bethany Cosentino’s commanding stage presence is enough to ensure Best Coast clinch the title of the festival’s standout performance. [JG]

http://www.dottodotfestival.co.uk