Concorde 2, 18th November 2008

It may have been over a decade since the baggy-trousered hedonism of Madchester was laid to rest, but The Whip are making sure the coffin lid isn’t closed just yet. As they appear amidst Brian Eno’s dreamy soundscape, the Mancunian four-piece quickly crank up the bpm with a series of dirty electronic tunes, full of jackhammer drum beats and pounding bass-lines.

“Fire” quickly ignites the crowd, as frontman Bruce Carter belts out strangulated lines over old-skool tweaks and bleeps. There follows a few anthemic dancefloor fillers that hark back to the glory days of acid house – the best of which is the plinkety-plonk synths and laser-gun splatters of “Blackout” (a nod to a club’s practice of throwing the switches at the tune’s zenith). But it’s not all pills, thrills and smiley faces. The sweeping tones and electro flourishes of “Frustration” recall New Order at their most melancholic, whereas “Sirens’” evokes the bleak intensity of Joy Division.

Whilst The Whip’s repertoire offers a selection of catchy hooks and strong melodies, their electro blueprint never really progresses into exciting songs. Also, Carter’s gruff, shouty vocals, often swamped in meaty bass riffs, lack any real finesse which, at times, makes their performance seem a little strained.

Formed from the ashes of nineties Manc-tronic underachievers Nylon Pylon, the band were clearly veterans of the indie/dance phenomenon the first time round. Their inability to infuse fresh ideas to a familiar crossover genre, in the same way that Simian Mobile Disco or Does It Offend You, Yeah? can, highlights their lack of invention or versatility.

The arresting rhythmic swagger of “Divebomb” (mixed by achingly hip French label Kitsune) was the highlight of the set and reminds us how great production can inject a much-needed synthetic pulse. Their closer “Trash” is a sleazy slice of riotous beats and squelchy electronic throbs. Amid squealing guitars, Carter’s prescient refrain that he “wants to be trash” had the crowd reaching for the arc lights, and this reviewer reaching for the exit door.

Words by David Gallienne

Photography by Sam Hiscox