The Mouth - Wearing the Halo high

West London bred The Mouth walk on stage prior to The Music, and far away from home the five lads are obviously not faded as they burst into a colossal wall of euphoric noise that melts the creases of your face and smashes the cobwebs from your crevices.
“Salvation” can cramp up your muscles with its incendiary blast of sheer crunching noise. It reeks with an audio flame that can set fire to towns and cities with an echo of burning that hails no blemishes. Centre stage dances a front man whose juttery movements jive their way into an Ian Curtis type movement marathon with a voice to match that of the legendary Robert Harvey’s.
Fingers corrode on fret boards throughout “Nobody is born a hero” as this profound tune builds into a momentous peak of an organised chaos that holds its own as a poetic masterpiece. “I said Rome wasn’t built in a day” tones Mark until he begins to bellow at the top of his vocal velocity beneath an undercurrent of a drum fuelled hurricane.
Something like this is special. It is actually what the mind can comprehend as incredibly amazing. So much spleen corrupting carnage that rings through the cranium right down to the curled up toes which helplessly attempt to grip to the floor before each and every individual is blown into oblivion. The Mouth. The Future.