Brainwash Festival III Friday- ¡Forward Russia! That Fucking Tank, Rolo Tomassi, Wintermute at the Brudenell Social Club, Royal Park Cellar, Leeds.

When arriving at this year's Brainwash Festival we're already feeling a little worse for wear. It could be the round-up of mammoth gigs we've been attending this week, or the simple shock of managing to find a venue in Leeds without getting lost. Either way we're not quite there when the festivities begin.

Luckily Wintermute are kind to us as they start the evening with a subtle blend of indie progression. As their set continues it's a little reminiscent of Youthmovies (before their stripped down transformation) and slowly excels into a large sound which takes over the room. Complimented by their rough and ready vocals they give the day an uplifting start.

Then we make a quick hop over to the Royal Oak next door where a handful of bands are playing in the basement. With a low ceiling, inch high stage and boiler pipes it is the perfect place for bands to sneak in a quiet performance. Of course quiet and Brainwash don't exactly go together, and Chickenhawk are the first to blow away any images we did have of an acoustic guitar. With their backs to the stage the group pound through their dirty riffs with a whiff of distortion as the shear volume literally makes us shudder inside.


So before the sickness completely takes over we dash it back to the Brudenell to catch a glimpse of That Fucking Tank- and a glimpse it is. With the duo positioned on the floor there's not a band member to be seen. We can hear their dark brooding rhythms but spotting a member is another mission in itself. Instead we stand on the steps nod along and imagine the picture the group, were they not surrounded by checked shirt teenagers.

Heading back to the pub cellar right now feels like death itself but we brave it to see the climatic Rolo Tomassi. As the band come onstage the room feels like an ever decreasing green house, and as they push through the opening tracks of Hysterics the room shakes with the shear volume of the performance.

Quickly we head to the Brudenell to recover before ¡Forward Russia! who are of course, playing their last gig before their 'hiatus'. Therefore it comes as quite a surprise to find the room full of 16-year-olds. As the group kick into 'Fifteen Pt 2' the venue immediately erupts as the remainder of the audience shout random numbers around the room. Replicating a set performed in Sheffield a year ago the gig should be a fight to the death, showcasing the band's effortless performance, yet tonight the atmosphere is lacking. As a hometown and last gig it should feel like the end, yet it doesn't. Maybe the group will return after all, or rather they prefer a more subdued ending.

Photos by Bart Pettman