Code Orange – 3/12/2014 – Old Blue Last | Live Review

Source: Graham Berry

Pittsburgh’s Code Orange are a band rapidly on the rise. After releasing their absolutely phenomenal second album I Am King earlier in the year, and scoring support slots with At The Gates, they look set to become one of the premier acts on the hardcore circuit. Selling out the Old Blue Last is a testament to the fervor surrounding them.

Belgians Every Stranger Looks Like You struggle coaxing anything out of the bass for a little while, but once these initial issues are bridged they throw out some angular, burly riffs. In among the hardcore flair there are shades of the more abrasive, melancholic early Nirvana. Uplifting yet cutting in equal measure, there are some nice drum dynamics including some really big fills. Despite generating only polite applause and the occasional whoop, ESLLY aren’t half bad, even taking into account the frontman’s dubious leg wear choices.

Source: Graham Berry

Suddenly the room goes from a few scattered fans to absolutely heaving in anticipation for Code Orange. From the moment they strike their first massive, abrasive note the room erupts into complete fucking anarchy. A half-venue wide pit opens up as fans leap from the stage, flail their limbs and generally go a bit mental. It’s shocking, and those on the peripherals are left reeling, but the band are absolutely loving it, drummer/vocalist Jami Morgan inciting further acts of insanity. They clearly thrive in this environment, the band mirroring the energy of the punters.

Bassist Joe Goldman is a tower of intensity, leaning and grimacing into the crowd whilst hurling his bass around. Guitarists Reba Meyers and Eric Balderose are all flailing hair and distorted gravitational intensity, throwing out crushing riffs and savage vocals. Morgan shifts time signatures and furious drum patterns with manic energy and destructive grave. The set is understandably mostly culled from I Am King, and it sounds even more furious, even more raw live. The occasional moments of moody, stripped back riffing act as scant breathing space, a respite from the brutality.

Battered, bruised and barely breathing is how you’ll emerge from the Code Orange live experience. If the crowd don’t give you a concussion, the sheer weight of sound will. Vital hardcore. See them if you fucking dare.