Wilder Music

By Niall Mirza.

There’s a special quality to grunge vocals. They’re far from the articulate voices we know and love of modern pop music, and a world away from the unrelenting screams of metal music. They’re gritty, but manage to maintain a lax quality. They sit somewhere between the two extremes: effortlessly cool. It’s a sound that filled Hootananny Brixton on the 20^th of May. A sound that spills out through a venue as small as this one, bouncing between the walls and right back into the crowd. A sound that The Jins, all in all, do very well.

It’s a sound for stadiums and arenas, which is exactly where prominent bands like Nirvana took it, and where I envision The Jins taking it someday. But that’s where those comparisons stop, because I know it’s a cliché at this point to compare the Vancouver indie-rock band to Nirvana. The show’s energy was so transformative, it would feel reductive to credit it to any single influence. On multiple songs, they embodied The Strokes. With some mid-show banter, the trio called upon a hint of Blink-182. When playing the fan-requested track Jack Skellington, the band even bought Christmas up to May. They were themselves the entire time – well, aside from the moment they slipped into their Elvis impersonation. It wasn’t bad, though I’d still suggest they stick to playing music.

Of course, the actual music-playing felt like the sole factor responsible for holding the show together. There was almost this sensory disconnect between eyeing the isolated quality of each member playing their instrument, and hearing the sound of drums, bass, and guitar melding into one. Personally, the mush of sounds felt too abrasive at times, likely due to the venue’s acoustics and the positioning of the speakers, but there are no complaints here because it did help to nail home the spirit of grunge.

Waiting a long two hours after doors, the band instantly came in and brought the heat: shifting the room’s energy after an already-electric opening performance from Brighton band Crysometimes. The drummer must’ve known this, because two songs in, he was already shedding his shirt. It must’ve been four or five songs in before the entire crowd was full-on sweating. Aside from the electric, rowdy rock-show energy, seeing the bassist, Hudson, so intently concentrated on his instrument was a visual highlight. Trying to isolate its place in the mix became a rewarding, if at times difficult, process. However, the vocals pushing through the noise made it all worth it.

These vocals, performed mainly by guitarist and frontman Ben, with aid from drummer Jamie, were an intense focal point. The grunge quality is something they excel at, and performances like You’re Going Far exemplified this skill on a meteoric level. On various other songs, such as Metro, Jamie’s gnarly vocals shone through quieter, yet just as effective – like an echo longing to hold on to your ears. Again, these particular vocal moments could’ve shone through further with a clearer mix, though this runs the risk of compromising the overall grunginess which sets the band apart.

Another standout during Effigy was Ben’s soft, almost a cappella vocal breakdown, which felt like an intimate crowd-performer moment that had staying power before kicking back into the gritty rock. That particular section gave me the versatility I longed for in the set and showcased that The Jins are more than just your standard grunge-rock band. The multiple facets of indie-rock make the genre so appealing, and it’s refreshing to see the band branch out and tap into these various avenues. It did make me mourn Clementine, a fully downbeat track from the band’s project It’s A Life, which was missing from the setlist. However, the quality of The Jins to maintain their rock-and-roll hype the whole way through was an important factor for the set. They played for over an hour, and the band as a collective unit barely slowed down once.

Overall, the set of songs was incredibly well-picked, with a mixture of both brand new and older songs, complete with all of the fan favourites. Despite often falling back on the grungier side of the genre, the band tapped into a dynamic show which showcased both their individual and collective abilities. Ben Larsen is a classic, charismatic frontman pulled straight from the 90s, Jamie Warnock is an incredibly abrasive drummer and an equally abrasive vocalist, and Hudson Partridge is so inspiringly in-tune with his bass. My biggest concerns of the night related to Hootannany’s soundscape itself, and the venue’s insane stage height that made me feel like I was looking up at God, rather than at a rock band. Though all in all, it felt right. In a venue barely big enough to hold their sound, The Jins played the place like they were already legends.