Dinosaur Pile Up @ Waterfront Studio
Dinosaur Pile Up ripped apart Norwich’s Waterfront Studio
It can be easy around this time of year to get distracted by the fearsome, ugly head that are the lights, decorations and John Lewis adverts that seem to drag out the festive period for unnecessary weeks on end and divert all attention from the things that really matter in life. Things, my friends, like rock and roll. So if you were sat at home drafting letters to Santa and thinking about how that poor old guy got stuck on the moon and not rocking your god damn heart out as Dinosaur Pile Up ripped apart Norwich’s Waterfront Studio, shame on you, to be fucking honest.
Kicking off the madness was the primeval, haunting arrival of Big Society, whose tantalising vocals and crashing guitars echoed the fierce winds those inside had come to escape. Next, Broken Hands fused the brash, polished image of a 70s psych outfit with trippy 90s reverbs in a glamorous, eccentric set, building the anticipation in the room.
When Dinosaur Pile Up came on, it became obvious just how many die-hard fans there were around me, standing out from the word go as a brutish but amicable mosh pit opened up the whole front end of the studio. Clearly feeling the energy, frontman Matt Bigland announced, “We came to have a fucking good time, listen to loud rock music and party our asses off. Are you gonna join us or what?” as he led his two band mates into Mona Lisa followed by the grungey Grim Valentine. From Nature Nurture, their first record, White T-Shirt and Jeans followed, prompting the first of many arm thrusts that enveloped the crowd over the course of the night.
A mid-set respite came in the form of a moment of genuine thanks, Bigland stopping between songs to declare “I’m not sucking anyone’s dick, I say this every night of the tour, thanks for coming down to see our show when you could have gone to bed, or because you’re fucking broke, we really appreciate it.” Injecting a new energy into the already rowdy audience under a sickly green light, the three piece powered on into Derail, seemingly resonating among both the new and older fans present with its angsty, poignant chorus. “WHAT’S UP NORWICH?” signalled the arrival of Bad Penny, firing up a new moshpit that lasted for the rest of the night. The show concluded with just as much cataclysmic dynamism as it had boasted all evening, Traynor preceding 11:11 as closer as one last explosion of energy rippled through the sweaty venue.
