At the very end of last year, Mallory Knox announced their comeback. Not just any comeback, thoughâa comeback where Mikey Chapman would be returning as frontman, set to re-debut at this yearâs Slam Dunk. Just a couple of days before that, this tour was announced, celebrating 10 years of Asymmetry, and reinforcing Mallory Knoxâs full-force commitment to their return. Bear in mind, this all came about before there was even a feel for demand. Their era of Britrock is a smouldering husk of what it once was, and the years where Sam Douglas took over as frontman (could be âyearâ singular, in fact; it wasnât long) had been met with the nonplussed shrug that did them in in the first place. And yet, Manchester welcomes a sold out show. People are clearly still invested in Mallory Knox, as the proponents of Britrockâs function-over-fashion ethos that flew among the highest thanks to it.
And as a band whoâve never been big on unique ideas, it makes sense that theyâd bring a support bill coated in a resounding flavour of vanilla. HRTLSS begin, with the usual rock / R&B / alt-metal fixture thatâll already send eyes rolling, and the lack of a solitary individual idea to wedge them in their sockets for good. This is only their second ever live show, but itâs not fledgling baby steps that are why theyâre held so far back. Rather, itâs how theyâre plying a sound thatâs already burned out to its core without the most marginal effort to remedy that, and a presentation of it thatâs just as cookie-cutter. With Mr. HRTLSS himself up front (whoâs apparently on the âmysterious, unnamed frontmanâ train with no mystique or identity obfuscation in place, soâŚokay), he carries the exact silhouette of your bang-average 2010s metalcore vocalist, down to the black, sleeveless T-shirt. The spoken beats are the same, too; âloving the energy, keep it up,â he says, despite there being not one moving body on the floor. Even when they bring out Mallory Knoxâs guitarist James Gillett on the last couple of songs, thereâs nothing added besides a fourth, marginally higher-profile presence onstage. JustâŚno good.
Honestly, itâs the sort of showing you could well imagine Call Me Amour replicating. Their music is also not very stimulatingâmore dense, dark alt-rock flecked with customary hints of neonâbut the benefit of Harry Radford as an experienced performer is whatâs getting them across the finish line without a chronic limp. Even if the music of the Yashin days has aged like milk on the surface of the sun, the expressive, mobile energy is evergreen. After just the second song, heâs already strolling through the crowd to get accommodated with the room, a personality value above that of a mannequin held by your average frontman of this vintage. âPunkâ is extremely pushing it, but at least thereâs a tangible livewire there to keep an otherwise pedestrian sound going. Nevertheless, the nightâs first considerable wave of excitement comes when Mikey Chapman arrives to join in on Good Day, so Call Me Amour arenât exactly in a lapping position just yet.
Speaking of which, Chapmanâs looking really good. His demeanour is notably happy and refreshed, as anyone would be to return to prior successes unbothered after more than half-a-decadeâs worth of hiatus. In no small part, this is Mallory Knox returning to the status quo of no-frills, earnest alt-rock; the intro tape of We Are Never, Ever Getting Back Together is about as tongue-in-cheek as they get. And for a shtick that can sound a little thin and treacly on paper, itâs worth remembering how generally unimpeded Mallory Knoxâs ascension up the Britrock ladder was, for the most part. Theyâre obviously loved, with the bulk of that adoration channelled into the music itself, and how it still clicks in the right environment without a second thought.
Thus, the expected âcelebrationâ of Asymmetryâi.e. a full playthrough, at a time when nostalgia tickets like that are all the rageâdoesnât quite surface in that way. Those songs fill the most space, but itâs a greatest hits set by any other name, which isnât an objectionable thing for anyone. There are real hits to be found all across this catalogue with more uses of the word âdarlingâ than anyone elseâs, and with the intent of a momentous return, Mallory Knox clearly arenât looking to skimp. Beggars drops as just the fourth song; Sugar as the fifth. The self-titled album is the only chapter unaccounted for, but thatâs not such a big deal. The concentration of anthems comes thick and fast enough as it is, with not a hair out of place to really hammer home how doggedly committed Mallory Knox are. Itâs the showcase of their skills with ballads that takes wing the highest, and arguably set them apart the most from their peers in the first place. The pairing of When Are We Waking Up? and Heart & Desire is crystalline and towering, and later gets reinforced by an equally strong Shout At The Moon and Dare You. Other than Oceans and the heavier, tenser feel of a primordial Mallory Knox (and the shock of giddiness at how, after all this time and mainstream movement, itâs not a portion of themselves theyâve excised), itâs where theyâre undoubtedly at their best.
Not like thereâs a point where they put a foot wrong, mind. Theyâve clearly tailored things to where the music itself takes precedent, and thus mitigating the chances of dips or inconsistencies. Itâs likely why the stage production is so unobtrusiveâplumes of smoke come up at various intervals, and the big âMKâ lights at either side of the stage arenât bright enough (or, indeed, on enough) to be too distracting. That leaves Mallory Knox themselves to shoulder the weight, a task that theyâre more than equipped to handle. A stampeding Ghost In The Mirror kicks things off with nary a dud or blank to be found. When they reach She Took Him To The Lakeâalready among the more daring and imposing cuts of this era of alt-rockâitâs still basically in a class of its own.
To cap all of that off, the humbleness thatâs always been characteristic of Mallory Knox has never gone away. Itâs probably there even more now, just from how circumstances have fallen and landed resolutely in their favour. With the closing notes of Lighthouse ringing out, Chapman mouths a little âwowâ amid the rapturous reaction thatâs clearly bringing his own emotions out. Youâre never going to get the flashiest capital-S show from Mallory Knox, but theyâre not a band designed for that. Back in the day, they were among the crowd that made the life of a successful, well-moving rock band seem achievable, and keeping a firm distance away from the rockstar bullshit in the process. As trite as Chapmanâs asides about chasing passions to the twinkling intro of Dare You can be, itâs entirely on-brand. Thatâs true of Mallory Knox as a whole tonight, picking right back up from what worked, and proceeding to show how it still can. The comeback is justified, and the gratitudeâfrom both fans and bandâis palpable.
Word by Luke Nuttall
