Gig review: Hinges at The Packhorse, Leeds

'So,' Hinges frontman Myles Petcher tells a near-capacity crowd in the backroom of The Packhorse pub in north Leeds, 'a crow walks into a bar.' He pauses and gives the grin of a man unrepentantly aware how terrible his punchline is. 'It was a crowbar.'

It earns a few choked guffaws and plenty of ironic cheers; it seems just as well that the band have returned after almost a year off, if only to save audiences from their vocalist’s potentially life-scarring stand-up routine.

At their comeback show, the grunge-tinged five-piece unload a brace of tracks from their upcoming, second EP – and with it, a more nuanced genre palate that straddles the blurry line between defiant emo and furious metalcore.

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The djent-inflicted growled riffs of Home aside, the first three-quarters of the quintet’s set is frontloaded with as-yet unreleased material. The influence of stalwart emo outfits such as AFI and American Football remain spectres across the songcraft, but Hinges tweak most numbers enough from formulaic into something a little bit different.

Everything Beautiful showcases their pop nous underneath the fizzing guitars; Weak, with its hazy six-string wash on the verses is oddly dreamy and pretty. There is little revolutionary about the musicianship offered; but their time away from the stage has sharpened their skills, their sound tightly coiled and finessed in parts.

In Petcher, the group are blessed with a frontman whose obliquely down-to-earth stage patter can bridge the gaps in between with workmanlike ease. He swears like a sailor, threatens to tell more bad jokes and invites everyone to come out to Popworld afterwards and buy him a drink, “because I’m skint”, he tells them.

As a singer, he finds his clean vocals overwhelmed under the tight fills and chunky melodic punch of Selfish; but when he lets out his scream over tortured ballad Waves – which he introduces as “the closest thing I’ve ever written to a love song” – and again on the moodily cascading I Hope It Gets Better, where he roars it to its conclusion.

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By the time they close with the bratty snarl of Aches and Pains, the resultant mosh pit threatens to send less well-anchored bodies flying in a wild melee.

Hinges are back; and bolder, broader and brasher than ever to boot.

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