Tramlines is a fledgling festival a mere three years of age, where Sheffield’s diverse and thriving music scenes are celebrated by way of a bustling and bewilderingly free of charge extravaganza courtesy of numerous venues, promoters and artists.
Sunday, its opening syllable savagely appropriate, the mathy tap lines of Brontide ring out outside City Hall, from the New Music Stage (the bill of which is curated by self-made Sheffielders and audacious indie darlings, Rolo Tomassi). The uncompromising noonshine fails to get a flinch out of Brontide as they hammer home their stoic, Battles-y patterns, positively masculine in tightness, hard-practised in instrumental prowess, and visceral in rhythmic drive.
The mesmerising musicianship of Three Trapped Tigers is another pinnacle of the afternoon. Rubberneck at the multi-tasking drummer’s gadgets as he attacks his (venetian...) snares and electronically contorts them into strobing, Aphex-esque flourishes, or keep an eye on guitarist and synthist as their two brethren timbres meld and weave together into overblown Mogwai drama - often savage, often dulcet.
We bear witness to The Ghost of a Thousand’s last performance in northern England (calling it a day after seven years) which quickly rallies a wealth of hardcore hardcore enthusiasts raring for the day’s first pit action. This we get, albeit initially an awkward empty clearing in the crowd, and moshing intensifies to the point of backpacks exploding and all possessions being lost in a hurricane of sweaty hair, stretched lobes, and beer-soaked black t-shirts (dramatisation; the fellow in question miraculously recovered his wares). A solid set from the Brighton quintet, with the exception of the super-lame inclusion of a ‘Back In Black’ cover - the iconic AC/DC song that gets more obnoxious each time it graces the ears.
Rolo Tomassi - ringmasters of this formidable rival to the more mainstream Devonshire Green stage - commence their convulsive yet accessible show in the ever so slightly waning light of 7pm. Their music is a veritable jerkfest - particularly on the part of wunderkind Joe Nicholson - employing adventurous harmonic structures, brash syncopations, polyrhythms, isorhythms, and further muso jargon, whilst fastening a stylistic fusion of free spazz, rifftacular calcu-metal, and the signature, abrasive “mate, that’s a girl?” yelps. The hometown humility in Eva Spence’s dewy-eyed intersong gratitude is certainly at odds with her self-aware indulgence in obvious sex appeal, nonetheless these juxtaposed behaviours create an idiosyncratic stage presence, charming, youthful and energetic. Much of the audience now very drunk (it is, like, 7:30pm after all...), those nearer the stage flail with abandon, paying more heed to the ostentatious 12-year-old crowdsurfers than to the spastic rhythmic trajectories of the music. Appreciation of Rolo's sonic artisanship is tarnished somewhat by the number of bodies clumsily crawling over our heads (before being removed by admirably patient front-row security). With Tomassi tonight, though, there’s a good time to be had however you approach the show, and it is in this spirit that today’s cohesive line-up comes together, rendering a success one of Sheffield’s most worthwhile events. Long live Tramlines.