Walking into The Holloway (https://thehollowaynorwich.com/) felt like discovering a secret. From the street it passes as a bookshop or art space, but head downstairs and you find yourself in a compact performance room with bare walls, no stage, and maybe space for a hundred people. It’s exactly the sort of environment that either crushes a band or lets them thrive.
Garden Centre (8) opened in stripped-back form, just one man with his songs. Against the still-settling crowd and the bare room, that vulnerability became its own kind of intensity. Fragile, slightly awkward, but strangely magnetic. I loved the vocals on this set, they were strangely distance, almost weaved into the music. It was a delicate introduction, leaving quiet fractures in the atmosphere before the weight of the night descended.
Chubaby (8) followed and changed the air immediately. Their surreal, story-driven approach was less about blasting the audience and more about shaping mood. At times their sound was unpredictable, even unsettling, forcing attention rather than demanding it. In hindsight, they set up the evening’s escalation perfectly, a reminder that heaviness doesn’t always need distortion to be heavy.
Then came Why Patterns (10), and the night shifted from curiosity to chaos. I’d spoken to Doug, Dan and Seb before the gig, and seeing them take the stage, Dan’s back in pieces, Seb on crutches, it was clear they weren’t just showing up, they were forcing their way through pain to deliver. That alone would have been enough, but what they unleashed went beyond resilience.
The setup was stripped: Dan crouched behind a small, battered kit; Seb seated with his seven-string bass balanced against him; Doug pacing the floor like he was waiting for a fight. No fanfare, no easing in. They hit, and the room transformed.
This wasn’t a performance that flirted with aggression, it was aggression. Fast, ugly, and beautiful all at once. Doug doesn’t talk between songs. He doesn’t need to. He stalks his space, commands it, and every so often blurs the line between band and audience by stepping into the crowd, close enough that you could feel the intensity radiating off him. His presence was unnerving but magnetic, shifting from pain to fury and something else much harder to name, like he was exorcising every emotion available in real time.
Seb’s bass was a seismic force. In that compact basement, it wasn’t just sound, you could feel it press against your chest and rattle your teeth. His playing was relentless, hammering home the weight of every song, a constant reminder that this band doesn’t leave you room to stand still.
And Dan, his drumming was pure catharsis. He didn’t play with the kit, he went to war against it. Every strike looked like it came from somewhere deeper than muscle, as if the drums were the only outlet he had left to burn through the pain of his back.
Chubaby (8) followed and changed the air immediately. Their surreal, story-driven approach was less about blasting the audience and more about shaping mood. At times their sound was unpredictable, even unsettling, forcing attention rather than demanding it. In hindsight, they set up the evening’s escalation perfectly, a reminder that heaviness doesn’t always need distortion to be heavy.
Then came Why Patterns (10), and the night shifted from curiosity to chaos. I’d spoken to Doug, Dan and Seb before the gig, and seeing them take the stage, Dan’s back in pieces, Seb on crutches, it was clear they weren’t just showing up, they were forcing their way through pain to deliver. That alone would have been enough, but what they unleashed went beyond resilience.
The setup was stripped: Dan crouched behind a small, battered kit; Seb seated with his seven-string bass balanced against him; Doug pacing the floor like he was waiting for a fight. No fanfare, no easing in. They hit, and the room transformed.
This wasn’t a performance that flirted with aggression, it was aggression. Fast, ugly, and beautiful all at once. Doug doesn’t talk between songs. He doesn’t need to. He stalks his space, commands it, and every so often blurs the line between band and audience by stepping into the crowd, close enough that you could feel the intensity radiating off him. His presence was unnerving but magnetic, shifting from pain to fury and something else much harder to name, like he was exorcising every emotion available in real time.
Seb’s bass was a seismic force. In that compact basement, it wasn’t just sound, you could feel it press against your chest and rattle your teeth. His playing was relentless, hammering home the weight of every song, a constant reminder that this band doesn’t leave you room to stand still.
And Dan, his drumming was pure catharsis. He didn’t play with the kit, he went to war against it. Every strike looked like it came from somewhere deeper than muscle, as if the drums were the only outlet he had left to burn through the pain of his back.
It wasn’t polished, it wasn’t “tight” in the conventional sense, it was feral, and it was exactly what this music demanded. It was everything I wanted the tracks I’d heard on Screamers to sound, feel and look like live. It was delivered like a smack in a face.
This is what punk should be: energy unchained, bodies pressed into sound, no barriers between band and audience. In that small basement room, Why Patterns turned the night into something raw and unforgettable.
Venues in Norwich have taken a battering in recent years, but The Holloway feels like a space intent on keeping things alive. I’ll be back for more.
As for Why Patterns, their UK tour continues, and if you can catch them, do it. They don’t just play songs, they unleash them.
This is what punk should be: energy unchained, bodies pressed into sound, no barriers between band and audience. In that small basement room, Why Patterns turned the night into something raw and unforgettable.
Venues in Norwich have taken a battering in recent years, but The Holloway feels like a space intent on keeping things alive. I’ll be back for more.
As for Why Patterns, their UK tour continues, and if you can catch them, do it. They don’t just play songs, they unleash them.
No comments:
Post a Comment