What with this being a gig review, it wouldn’t be beyond the realms of possibility to assume that you’ve come here because you were looking for an answer to the question ‘what does a Spring King show feel like?’
Well, in our eyes, it feels a bit like being punched in the face. After all, if you’ve ever been punched in the face – and who hasn’t? – you’ll know that your first reaction is… Well, it’s shock. You don’t know how to react, and you don’t know how to feel; heck, if the ever-increasing stinging sensation that’s bubbling within your right cheek is anything to go by, you’re not even sure whether you’ll be able to feel anything for a little while.
Then comes the adrenaline. The fire in your belly, and the devil in your eyes; that Next Sale opening morning feeling, some would say. You don’t know what you want to do, but you know you have to do something. After all, you can’t just stand there – you’ve got far too many chemicals running through your body for that. Your mind says to run away, but your body says to just stand there and see what’s about to happen; in the end, your body wins, and you just stand there for a moment, looking with a wide-eyed look at the guy in front of you and wondering what the hell you’re going to do next.
Finally, you get the response. You don’t do anything consciously, but you feel a million things happening at once. Your arms flail in numerous directions, seemingly at the same time; your legs begin to contort into shapes that you’re not sure have been seen by any human being before. Your chest puffs out, your shoulders tense up, and you’re struck by a feeling that you’re about to show the crowd, the room, and the entire world around you precisely what you’re made of.
That set of feelings, dear reader, can also be used pretty nicely to describe the experience of being at a Spring King show.
As we must remind you, there are only four members of the band – so, when they walk out onto the stage at Bristol’s Thekla and pound out what can only be described as a glorious wall of indie-rock racketeering, it does feel something like this humble reviewer has been smacked in the cheek by whomever the Heavyweight Champion Of The World happens to be at the time you’re reading this.
And no, we’re not just saying that. As one may expect, us noble residents of One on One HQ have been to a fair gigs in our time; so, when we tell you that this one was loud, you’d better believe that it was loud. Like, seriously: we could barely hear ourselves speak, and we’re sure that you can only imagine how painful that must’ve been for someone who voices opinions about music on the Internet.
So, naturally, the blood began to pump a little faster through the veins of this humble reviewer. The heart rate began to rise until it was in time with the BPM, and then entirely in sync with the kick drum. Then – and only then – came the moment when the adrenaline hit. We’d love to call it dancing, but we’re not sure whether that would be too kind a term; for, dear reader, it is our sad duty to report that what our noble Editor was seen to do in public does not resemble ‘dancing’ in any traditional, contemporary, and/or interpretive sense. Onlookers were heard to wonder if he was ‘alright’; his plus one was seen to slowly pace backwards in a vain effort to distance himself from the spectacle that was unfurling in front of him. The venue staff themselves looked towards him wide-eyed, and the people around him just looked plain awkward, but he didn’t care; for, to put it frankly, he was having a Bloody Good Time, thank you very much.
That, beloved reader, is why you should go to see these guys.
No, it’s not in spite of the fact that it feels somewhat like being the victim of a physical assault; in fact, it’s because of it. Sure, you may make something of a tit of yourself – and the bar staff at your local venue may even mention it the next time you stumble down the stairs and onto their hallowed turf – but we can promise you that you won’t find it boring.
Quite the opposite, in fact: you’ll get to see one of this country’s best emerging indie-rock bands do what they do best in the flesh, and you’ll get to experience – and walk away relatively unscathed from – a sensation that can usually only be achieved by being the victim of mindless physical violence. Why the heck wouldn’t you want a piece of that?
