LIVE REVIEW: MSRY @ 229 The Venue, London

There’s only one word that can describe venturing into the bowels of London during a searing heatwave – misery. It’s a fitting one, seeing as misery is what’s bought us here in the shape of Oxford’s purveyors of brutalist hardcore MSRY.

Things are thankfully cool in the lavishly air conditioned 229 The Venue, which mirrors the reception that Midlands’ based ‘TranceMetalTrapDubstepCore’ (their words) unit INFIRM OF PURPOSE get from the crowd while they create a time warp back to 2006 with their sub-ENTER SHIKARI mix of danceable rhythms and metallic breakdowns. To their credit, they attack each song like it might win them a spot on the Warped tour roster, their stuttering electro beats, sweeping synth stings and screeched vocals executed with a bounding energy that unfortunately can’t cover up the gaping holes in their live show. Sections are out of time, solos out of tune, and when frontman Josh Blackshaw asks the fateful question ‘how many of you guys like hip hop music?’ before segueing into an angsty rap break the cringe factor heads skyward. A set ending LINKIN PARK cover is the only thing they play tonight that gets the crowd moving. Infirm and purposeless.

Rating: 3/10

For every area where INFIRM OF PURPOSE are decidedly amateur, MSRY are anything but. The trio explode from a stage that can barely contain them, their manic energy cascading throughout the venue like a tidal wave. Kial Churcher bolts around the space, a health and safety nightmare, scaling tables and barstools to tear at the ceiling while crowing his scalding vitriol. Charlie Bishop pumps out a wall of noise from his henge of amps, his guitar tone carrying enough heft to make you wonder how a three piece can throw out so much dense riffing.

If they’re not bounding off the stage and into the crowd, Churcher and Bishop (who, despite sounding like it, aren’t attorneys at law) are pinballing off each other, a two man mosh pit that puts a largely static crowd to shame. Churcher doesn’t let anyone get comfortable, bolting from the front of the venue to the back to scream in each individual face, conjuring the appropriate hardcore air of looming threat single handed. Onstage, Keir French sits enthroned behind his kit, battering out thundering D-beat grooves and dizzying turns of speed with mechanical ease, his command of tempo creating infectiously pacey passages that run full-tilt into brick walls of breakdown.

Towards the end of a set that’s seen the band engage with themes from death to depression, they start to channel the original political purpose of punk. “Fuck Donald Trump” Churcher asserts as they barrel into the sample-led rage of Trump Card, a timely blast of rebellion considering we’re less than a week away from Trumps ‘official’ UK visit. The incendiary hate isn’t just levelled at the political establishment in the USA, the trio dedicating another spiteful diatribe, Freedom, to Theresa May, bristling with the anti-establishment attitude that their hardcore forebears have made a cornerstone of the genre.

All too soon, their set is over. The trio’s infectious, riff heavy assault and commanding presence demand attention, seeing them attack their performance with slick, road honed skill and ferocious hunger. Their moniker might be miserable, but MSRY are more about breaking heads than breaking hearts.

Rating: 8/10