More about: Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes

In a basement in Camden, a haven from the freezing winter night, punks of all ages and sizes were pressed together in a writhing mass of energy. Frank Carter soon calls this “probably what goblin mode is”.

Frank Carter and The Rattlesnakes just finished playing a 3 night residency at The Underworld, and, maybe this is just a testament to the venue, but seeing them live in a tiny basement was exhilarating, reminiscent of sweaty stories of DIY house shows. It felt like you were part of something special- wherever you stood you were at the front… and one headbang away from being showered in someone’s sweat. I’m somewhat concerned to announce that I’ve never left a gig so sopping wet. 

The room was filled with palpable energy, as if The Underworld struggled to hold the intensity of the crowd, and you could feel the bass in your chest. Several band members made sure to head out into the rabid crowd, performing from the front of the stage to the back of the room. As I lifted up my phone to capture the atmosphere, I stopped in my tracks, realising I was one of the only ones, and put my phone away for the rest of the gig. It was clear that the audience were as much a part of the experience as the band themselves. There was no watching from the sidelines.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that it felt real. It felt as if I was in a room of genuine music lovers who perform their passion through cathartic exertion. No more hovering around with drinks, nodding your head and uploading videos to instagram- it was time to get involved.

But, to be clear, a Frank Carter and The Rattlesnakes gig is not an aggressive scary hole that swallows you up and spits you out. It’s not too violent or masculine to get involved, and the majority of their music is reliably similar- as if the 2013 Arctic Monkeys had rediscovered distortion and delved back into their cheeky DIY roots. Most importantly, though, no matter who you were, you never felt like an outsider.

Leaning into the microphone and glistening with sweat, Frank says that during this next song only women are allowed in the pit. He says that men spend their whole life taking up space, so this one’s for the ladies and non-binary people, and if any man joins in he will purposefully call them out. 

I have been to many gigs where artists have made this same statement, but this is the first time that it has felt genuine, as mid song he stops the band to call out an “absolute dickhead” who “had one job, to not take up space, just this once”. It was miraculous to see him so serious and eloquent, considering the last time I saw them live he was physically fighting crowd members. 

I had been scared to brave a Frank Carter and The Rattlesnakes show since Reading Festival 2015, where a massive pit of muscles and fists left me too scared to even consider joining in… But suddenly the environment of their gigs has changed without losing the vivacious and exhilarating energy. I could finally get involved.

There were specific people to help crowd surfers safely get spit onto the stage, people who fell were picked back up, and I found myself grinning at other people in the pit in recognition of shared experience.

It feels absurd to say this is a rarity in the current scene, but it really is.I can’t speak for the groups larger gigs, but small gigs rule and Frank Carter and The Rattlesnakes were made for them.

Capturing the atmosphere, see the shots from Dan Landsburgh below:

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More about: Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes