Only confirming what we already knew, Derry band 'The Wood Burning Savages' are relentless. Eased in by a 'Public Service Broadcasting'-style intro, Paul Connolly’s wailing vocals teeter on the verge of a frenzy. A combination of punk, heavy rock and almost-grunge colour the shredded, overdriven guitar that underlies the band’s "power to the people" message. Far from politically shy, Paul wryly addresses the hardships of being a politician in Northern Ireland to knowing cheers from the crowd. Connolly performs as though his songs bubble restlessly within him.
In the same vein as Catalan’s performance, the band’s incredulity and defiance against the political situation pervades the set. A call for confidence first and foremost in the public, Connolly also sings of stability, mental health, and a distorted love song to the places he calls home. Charged with an inspired sense of importance, solidarity and rebellion, a mosh-pit breaks out against the odds of the Duke of York’s corridor structure. If anyone could do it, it’s The Wood Burning Savages.
