So did you know that that You Me At Six tour is still going? Like we said in our own review, it’s a long old run they’re embarking on to sign themselves out, but at least it’s opening up doors for shows like this. This is part of a mini-tour that’s spun off from Kid Kapichi’s supporting stint, not just to rack up a few extra miles outside of the handful of opening dates bestowed to them, but in much smaller rooms than they’d usually occupy these days. Kid Kapichi have proven innumerable times how much of an asset within the current generation of Britrock they are, more so than the indie chancers who’d typically pay patronage to the Arts Club’s loft. ‘Special’ mightn’t be the right word just yet—after all, it’s hardly a case of world-beaters coming down to mingle with the common folk—but it’s cool nonetheless.
They’re also employing the curious tactic of a different support act on each date, and often ones who aren’t exactly locals. It’s ultimately that which makes the fate of NOISY sting all the more. Their home of Brighton is hard down the road from Liverpool, so to have their equipment conk out after about three songs sets up a long drive home, relatively empty-handed. It’s even more of a shame when they start out well, a rap / alt / electro-rock fusion that might dip a little deeply into formula, but has the kineticism to see it go. So when the ‘electro’ part of that equation hits a wall, it’s a saddeningly unceremonious end. Frontman Cody Matthews tries a little crowd-work while the rest are huddled around the gear, praying for a reboot, but it’s all for naught. The set peters out and ultimately flatlines, briefly resuscitated for the band to thank everyone before they have to leave.
It’s a bit of a mood-killer, not gonna lie, but not so much that Kid Kapichi can’t save the day. It’s kind of their thing, after all, pulling together the bulwarks of rowdiness in the modern generation of lad-rock and classic, quintessentially punk sensibilities and banging it out from there. It begins in earnest after the huge lurch of opener Artillery, not exactly a sonic foreshadow but definitely one in vibe. When Kid Kapichi get going, the energy is inescapable. Their sharper, stickier grooves take priority, and puts aside a more surgical approach to punk in favour of a good, blunt thwack. There’s a presence there, but it’s generally passive—the Palestinian flag as their backdrop says all it needs to, and Party At No. 10 concludes with Jack Wilson’s coda of “Even when they’re not in power, you’ve gotta say “Fuck the Tories!”” You can’t say it isn’t populist, the biggest strength that Kid Kapichi have by a country mile.
In close quarters like this, you realise how intense the love for Kid Kapichi can be. If the general crowd vibe doesn’t spell that out, there’s still the man who spends a not-insignificant portion of the set trying to get a pint bought for Wilson over to him. He does eventually get it, nursing it throughout the strut of Subaru that, in itself, encapsulates that tight alt-rock edge that’s seen Kid Kapichi do so well. As far as set construction goes, they punch out their bangers in quick succession, where the wry grooves of Let’s Get To Work or INVU bristle with new life in these sweatier climes. On top of that, there’s a sizable guitar tone at practically every turn to solidify things even further. Live, Kid Kapichi often have this hard-as-nails sound to pack their edge into, and the might with which Ben Beetham chisels it out here is no exception.
In all honesty, there really isn’t much more to it. Although plucked from their current pedestal, Kid Kapichi still feel right at home with the sound and feel that they sport. The tinges of ska on Zombie Nation or the fizzier punk rush of Can EU Hear Me? really just work, at least as well as an older cut like the hulking Working Man’s Town. The singular scuffed moment comes in how Get Down’s spoken verses get lost in a mix that’s less than generous to that style, but its quake and feverish pace can still make up the lost ground. And with how concentrated Kid Kapichi’s repetoire has become in terms of real slammers, their hour or so onstage absolutely flies by. As it should, to be honest. Even in what amounts to a side-show—doubling as an effort to make up for lost time after their last three Liverpool shows were cancelled—the stripes that Kid Kapichi have earned over the last few years continue to fly proudly.
Words by Luke Nuttall
Photos by Faye Roberts (Instagram)
