I’m in a bad mood. I’m not sure if tonight’s band will help or not, but as I wade into the smoke filled White Hotel I’ve a feeling that Mandy, Indiana might be just what I need. Just outside the city, this place feels a bit detached. It takes a little more effort to reach and to navigate inside, through narrow arches with limited viability due to all that smoke. It creates an intimate, raw and crushingly concentrated environment in which to watch any band. Faced with Mandy, Indiana on its tiny stage though is a brutal experience. This is one for the earplugs. They belt out bass heavy industrial dance music with French lyrics I can’t translate but that seem to fit our dystopian times. No one seems to know what to make of them to start, but things start to bounce as the dirty as hell bass tears through our bodies, whilst the cymbals stabs at what’s left. As a performance it’s a bit cold and austere and if you’re not right at the front it’s not particularly visual. They get me more when the drums take centre stage and things get faster and punky. The vocals kick up a gear too, with thick layers of guitar distortion reverberating around the concrete walls. It’s all wonderfully chaotic. Like you’ve just stumbled into an avant garde art installation. I’m expecting us all to be tarred and feathered any second. That doesn’t happen, but they do keep going harder and harder. I wasn’t too sure at first, but they really draw a crowd in and it’s reassuring to see bands like this selling venues out. I’m still in a bad mood as I head out into the cold night and in all honesty they sound better and cleaner on record, but for 45 minutes there, I’ll admit I was lost in a blissful oblivion.
