With a combined average age of just 18 years and six months, the five youngsters that comprise Toxic Federation display a maturity and slick professionalism that belies their tender years. So what’s their secret? Is it the songs? Well certainly their material is impressive; satisfyingly heavy but razor-sharp and hook-laden with soaring choruses that would cause the multi-harmony, radio-friendly Def Leppard to raise a collective eyebrow. Maybe it’s the musicianship? There’s no question these kids can play. From the rock-solid, but highly stylish and flamboyant, metronome-like accuracy of Josh Windsor’s drumming, to the deliciously catchy but understated and tasteful manner in which Alex Stroud’s bass locks onto Windsor’s kick drum like a guided missile, they outplay many musicians three times their age.
The twin lead work of Jake Graham & George Coleman is a delight to behold. Not content to just double up standard, metal power chords, typical of so many lesser acts, they use contrasting but complimentary chord voicings and each guitarist brings something different to the table, with hooks, riffs and licks swirling in and out that provide a richness, depth and texture to the songs that is deeply satisfying.
If all this weren’t enough they are led by Mitchel Emms, a frontman of quite simply astonishing talent & commitment. Think Axl Rose, Sebastian Bach, Dave Lee Roth and Gerard Way dropped into a blender and you’ll get a rough idea. Emms leads his troops through their pace with an astoundingly energetic and physical display of top –.drawer showmanship. Leaping, lurching, crouching, jumping he works the audience tirelessly, like a psycho Dave.
Arriving in their own personalized and liveried tour bus with a highly expensive and sparkly backline and, as we saw later, a full-on compliment of pyro and FX, they clearly have serious cash behind them. Maybe rich parents, happy to indulge their little darling’s dreams of playing rock stars? Possibly, but an unfair conclusion, when these kids deliver the goods in such a convincing manner. From set opener ‘Behind The Mask’ they give everything they’ve got and play as if we are at Wembley Arena, not a provincial boozer in a midlands suburb. It’s hard not to warm to their obvious sincerity and passion for what they do. Despite the studied 80s-style glam-sleaze image (they look great as well, by the way. Makes you sick, right?) there is no corresponding arrogance, merely a genuine desire to entertain and win over the punters.
The backbone of the set is their own songs and quite right too when they’re as polished and of such quality as those we heard tonight. ‘Neon Dream’ and ‘Last Words’ hit like a wrecking ball. But a very polished wrecking ball with a melodic sensibility that had this cynical old hack grinning like teen-ager on a promise. Another highlight was ‘Dark’ a beautifully crafted slice of tuneful hard rock all anchored firmly in place by a rhythm section that purred flawlessly all night. The overall effect, one of skillfully controlled fury. Iron Maiden's ‘The Trooper’ got a note-perfect run through although I experienced a moment of unease when that familiar, galloping riff kicked in; surely an 18 year old kid couldn’t cope with Bruce Dickinson’s air-raid sire vocal acrobatics? I should have known better by that point. Of course he could. And did. Admirably. Wheeling out that hoary old chestnut, ‘Highway To Hell’ the cheeky sods’ harmonised on the chorus giving an out and out rocker a classy little polish with backing vocals a pitch-perfect third above the melody line. To complete the compliment of covers, Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ and ‘Enter Sandman’ were dispatched with clinical accuracy and a high degree of flair.
Following a drum solo by Windsor, (yes, I know; but it was thoroughly enjoyable, honestly!) the band launched into the home straight with the 1-2-3 attack of ‘Of Reason’, ‘The Dreamer’ and ‘Patriot’s Gamble’ and it was game over. Toxic Federation 1, Rest of the Competition 0.
Criticisms? Hard to come by, to be fair, Maybe the pacing of the set could do with some adjustment and Stroud & Coleman could perhaps project more and introduce a little more movement and mobility into their respective performances but given the astonishing performance of Emms and Windsor, the first skin-basher I’ve seen in twenty years that’s actually a pleasure to watch as well as listen to, these are minor, possibly churlish, quibbles.
So there you have it. The most exciting young act I’ve seen since ‘Heaven’s Basement’. They’ve got the lot. If there is any justice in this miserable little world these kids should be super nova within five years. Catch ‘em quick before it costs you thirty notes at the N.E.C.
Harry Paterson
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