The start of the working week is normally a time to knuckle down and attempt to blow off all the cobwebs that inevitably still linger from the past few days. Those who headed down to Manchester’s Gorilla to catch garage-rock extraordinaire Ty Segall definitely had other ideas.
Upon entering the door, Far Out is instantly greeted by a scene of Segall’s manager Jimmy Longhorn doubling up as a hype man. With a beer in his hand, a huge cowboy hat and a suit straight out of the mid-west, it’s not exactly what we were expecting to kick off a show from the Californians.
His bravado certainly does the trick. He gees the packed out audience up, with a brand of saloon-style comedy that is at times surreal, but ultimately a welcome prelude. Longhorn even laps it up when repeatedly called a “cunt” by a member of the front row and then after proving he know where he’s touched down with a bit of football chat, it’s time the introduce the Manipulator Band – in fact, at no point is Segall referred to in his solo guise.
They enter the room to an already frenzied crowd. Down the front there is a pit of shaggy-haired teenagers who can’t wait to get in the melee. Meanwhile, the venue’s security staff hang aloft from the raised platform at the side of the stage, poised to get involved should things get out of hand.
It’s songs from most recent album Manipulator that get proceedings under way to great effect. At times, the record leans slightly more towards 60s psychedelia rather than the raucous punk sounds of previous efforts, but Segall’s ear for a killer riff means that the place is bouncing from the off.
The evening has to go down as a near record-breaker for stage dives. The feverish super-fans who populate the front of Gorilla hoist each other to the front of the room and look as if boiling point has well and truly been surpassed during ‘It’s Over’.
The latest band Segall has put together – who we are told are on the road for the last time – help the cause in no small part. Tight as they come, a flurry of grunge-style guitar work and flailing hair is the perfect foundation for a virtuoso-like performance from the frontman.
What is probably most impressive, however, is the fact that even after coming in hand with an album that is far more layered and intricate in its production, the raw edge and rabble-rousing scuzz still remains for all to see.
In all honesty, it’s been a while since we have seen a rock show where the roof has been blown off so ferociously. When you can head out for a Monday night out like this, clearly it’s time to break down the defined lines that specify when the hedonism of the weekend should begin and end.