Bring Me The Horizon - Sheffield Academy 2 - October 20th 2008
Support: The Secret Handshake

The Secret Handshake are an odd choice of support for Sheffield deathcore mob Bring Me The Horizon, with their hard-partying, electro-infused pop-punk, and between-song bursts of RnB.
They receive a predictably mixed response, with middle fingers being wafted in the air for the entire time The Secret Handshake are onstage. However, a surprising amount of people go along with their infectious disco-rock, approaching it as a chance to cut loose and have some good, uncomplicated fun before things get heavy.

They may be playing to a crowd who’d prefer deathmetal screams and crushing riffs to bouncing electro beats and spring-heeled drums, but The Secret Handshake deliver a grin-inducing set that, against all the odds, gets the crowd moving. Anyone with a fondness for the crop of synth-splattered electro-rock bands currently rocketing to superstardom (Enter Shikari, Mindless Self Indulgence and Pendulum fans, take note) The Secret Handshake might just be worth checking out.

And then it’s time for Bring Me The Horizon and, I have to say, the only reason I’m here tonight involves a friend of a friend, pre-booked tickets, and a nasty case of tonsillitis. Never one to turn down a freebie, here I am, even though I’ve never sat through a Bring Me The Horizon song from beginning to end before, and I have absolutely no idea what to expect.
The first thing that’s striking about Bring Me The Horizon is how adored they are by the audience. Every crushing slab of actually-pretty-scary deathcore is met with bellows of appreciation, and the wall-to-wall circle pit keeps on churning from the first song of the night, up until frontman Oli Sykes snarls the very last line.

When the tattooed frontman hurls himself into the front rows, it sparks mass hysteria as the entire room surges forward, desperate to get up close and personal with their hero. However, this isn’t the sort of teenage infatuation that’s all too easy to poke fun at, as the audience are fiercely focused on the music, circle-pitting, wind-milling their arms and head banging with grim determination. There is only one light moment tonight, and that comes when Sheffield-native Sykes leads the crowd in a chant of “Yorkshire! Yorkshire!” before getting back to business and dropping yet another snarling deathcore bomb on the audience.

To say Bring Me The Horizon are enthusiastic performers is an understatement, as Sykes lunges repeatedly at the front rows, hangs from the rafters and howls his lungs out, while the rest of the band headbang so ferociously, it’s difficult to understand why they’ve drawn accusations of being a bunch of posers.
As Bring Me The Horizon exit the stage and the house lights come on, the one-and-a-half-hour long circle pit finally grinds to a halt, and dazed looking people stagger towards the exit. Bring Me The Horizon may never quite escape the spectre of past bad press, but there’s something oddly likeable about a bunch of carefully-coffered, skinny-jean-clad youngsters churning out the sort of bloodthirsty deathcore you’d usually expect from bigger, older, and hairier rockers. Ultimately, Bring Me The Horizon didn’t make me fall in love with deathcore (it still all sounds the same to me) but tonight they delivered a vicious performance to a dedicated fan base who are into the Bring Me The Horizon music, rather than the Bring Me The Horizon image.


Review by Jessica Thornsby


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