LIVE REVIEW: Doyle @ The Fleece, Bristol

Outside of OZZY OSBOURNE at the turn of the 90s, it’s a struggle naming an artist from the world of rock or metal who became bigger than the band they were famed for. Even DANZIG, for all his success and iconic status, has never quite managed to match the level of legacy that THE MISFITS continue to harbour in 2018. Spare a thought, therefore, for one Doyle Wolfgang von Frankenstein; a second quarter of arguably the greatest horror punk band in history, he’s come to The Fleece on a Bank Holiday weekend and the turnout is grim. Perhaps he’s used to it by now, but given his place in the annals of rock, he deserves far better.

A band who will no doubt GET better are POISON CROW. Originally from Exeter and looking to make an impact up the road in Bristol, they draw the short straw and open proceedings ten minutes after doors open to less than thirty people. They play well and offer up several interesting motifs, but their own brand of horror punk isn’t particularly memorable, as middle of the road as you can get and a little too safe to really make an impact. That said, there is a lot of potential bubbling under the four piece’s surface and, with a little more grit and snarl, they could be a force others would do well not to underestimate.

Rating: 5/10

Preston’s WARD XVI, a late replacement on this tour for KILLUS, have a little more about them. Dressed in outfits paying homage to Beetlejuice and covered in corpsepaint, they’re visually on point and their music, although being a little inconsistent at times stylistically, comes across well especially the IRON MAIDEN-esque tones of Cry of the Siren. They’re also doing everything they can to put on a show; a blindfolded dummy is hacked open and has its guts removed, singer Psychoberry then drinks its blood before running around the venue with a chainsaw and finishing things off by encouraging the crowd to join her in a demented Can-can because…well, why not? It’s a lot of fun and, just as POISON CROW before them, WARD XVI are ones to watch.

Rating: 6/10

There’s a lot of Roman numerals floating around the venue tonight and Manchester’s THE DEAD XIII add a few more to the equation. No strangers to this sort of thing having toured with DOYLE at the beginning of last year, they’re now bringing latest album Dark Days out on the road and are firing on all cylinders. Confident, composed and with an abundance of energy that provides added clout to the likes of Angels and a searing rendition of the record’s title track, they’re the bastard lovechild of MOTIONLESS IN WHITE and THE DEFILED – and speaking of the latter, it’s clear that THE DEAD XIII have the chops to fill the hole in the British music scene that was left by the London mob when they sadly called it a day a couple of years ago. Props as well to frontman Kurt Blackshard making light of his own limb limitations and getting the crowd to fist pump instead of clap in a humourous and light-hearted way.

Rating: 7/10

Of course, everyone’s here to see the long-fringed one from THE MISFITS and DOYLE gives everything. Hulking over his guitar, he’s in brilliant shape and plays like a man possessed, a furious Beast Like Me making way for a menacing DreamingDeadGirls and on to a pulsating Learn to Bleed and closing punch of Hope Hell Is Warm. There’s not a single song from his former band in the setlist tonight and that deserves respect, for it shows DOYLE believes in the music he’s writing and performing, not dragging the bones around of his heyday and turning it into a substandard cabaret performance. There are, however, two big drawbacks tonight. The first is that the headline set is 45 minutes long, which is very short for someone with a substantial back catalogue and second, frontman Alex Story proceeds to irritate an ever increasing proportion of the room as the set progresses. There’s only so many times you can introduce a track as a “love song and you can dance to it if you want to”, and by the time he’s introduced the first five songs in that way, it’s already lost it’s effect. Not only that, but he has the temerity to call out the UK for speaking ‘Caveman English’ and posing the thought of there being a language barrier between his Southern American drawl and the audience. Some will say he’s only playing, but the sheer arrogance behind him is incredibly off-putting, which is a shame because when he sticks to singing, he’s a whirlwind of activity that compliments DOYLE perfectly, no less during Cemeterysexx and Valley of Shadows. It’s not perfect tonight, but DOYLE won’t care at all and, for the most part, neither will anyone else.

Rating: 7/10

Check out our photo gallery of the night’s action in Bristol from Normandy Photography here: