Bullet for My Valentine – review

Arena, Manchester
3 out of 5 3
    • The Guardian,
    • Jump to comments ()

"We're the first British metal band to play arenas for a very long time," announces Bullet for My Valentine's Matt Tuck. It doesn't matter that the arena is half-full, and that some of the metalheads must be 12 years old. For the proudly flailing-haired singer, BFMV are leading a new charge of "Fucking British Heavy Metal".

The late 1970s saw a New Wave 0f British Heavy Metal (NWOBHM), when Saxon and Iron Maiden saw off dinosaur rockers by developing a faster, harder metal, occasionally sporting spiky hair. Three decades on, Bullet's bass player has a Mohican haircut, and Tuck continually refers to being British (though, hailing from hard-rocking Bridgend, many would call them Welsh). Guitarist Michael Paget even launches into a Hendrix-style meltdown of Rule Britannia.

The main difference between the old NWOBHM and Bullet's new FBHM is that the band aren't nervous about embracing rock cliches: flying-V guitars played with legs apart, walls of pyrotechnics and amps that seem to go up even further than 11. However, musically, they are an unusual collision between old metal's Thin Lizzy and more recent thrash. With the drums attempting to recreate the sound of the Coronation Street tram crash, they make a mighty blitzkrieg. And yet, after an hour of songs referencing slayings, insanity and other bad things, you long for light relief. Happily, this is provided by a chap in the front row, who – to the obvious delight of Bullet's mischievous camera operatives – has celebrated the onslaught of FBHM by dressing as a giant duck.

Today's best video

Latest reviews

Today in pictures