Concorde2, 29th March

Arriving late, and digesting home-made curry, I managed to miss the first two bands (Whitemare and Brides), but was reassured that the best was yet to come in this Brighton-heavy hardcore line up.

The ridiculous tête-à-tête mirror posturing from Dead Swans’ bassist Benjamin led to a rather laughable moment where his strap ripped completely and he had to physically hold his guitar. Vocalist Nick’s expletive-peppered lyricism was unnecessary, the stage equivalent of an older brother pulling rank. The only saving grace was when Architects vocalist Sam joined Nick in a scream-off, and won.

To their forerunners, Centurion were a controlled, taut and bruising machine. With no need to flex their muscles, their death metal tinged songs boomed literal and figurative volumes. They opened quite aptly, in darkness, with a bow softly drawn over guitar strings, only visible in the pulse of camera flashes. This band do not ape, merely bring to mind the monolithic power of Botch and Fear Before The March Of Flames. “I’m going to punch you if you don’t stage dive!” spat vocalist Edward, after which more than a score honoured his request. So what if the Palumbo handbook on stage presence was pilfered from; why not take from the best? Plus, their excellent drummer Eugene had a Converge t-shirt on, which makes them more than alright.”

By now the grandiose Concorde2 was rammed to the hilt and Architects arrived to a roar of appreciation. I’d remonstrate that this five-piece are one of the finest metal/technical/hardcore-influenced bands working today. “We’ve been waiting for this all fucking tour!” shouted Sam, before raising an arm and tearing the crowd down the middle; all vim and vigour in a v-neck. The violence of bass and bass drum evoked relentless thunder, while cymbals punctuated every surging palm-mute. The arrival of ex-vocalist Matt onstage was a particular highlight, and the camaraderie between the two was apparent as Sam shared his microphone when the other’s refused to work. A later duet with Dead Swan’s Nick wasn’t quite so stirring. Segues between songs replaced banter; although a diatribe to the doubter – some poor-sighted fool who suggested they wouldn’t play to more than 17 people – was addressed with a rousing “Get fucked!” An encore of the brilliantly-titled ‘You Don’t Walk Away From Dismemberment’ was sublime. For Architects, I don’t think that ‘Pride of Brighton’ is too strong a sentiment.