Live Review: The Dirt Turned Poetry into Psychedelic Theatre in Their Launch of Agitator

It takes some talent and ingenuity to bring poetry out of the insular arena and translate it into psychedelic theatre; that was exactly what the Dirt achieved during the live launch of their debut LP, Agitator. If the pen is mightier than the sword, the duo dropped an atom bomb onto the crowd who made the Dirt t-shirts in-vogue.

Following the moody post-punk sets from Bloodworm and Dim Imagery, Pray for Mojo devilled the capacity crowd with their ear-blistering staunchly 70s rock rancour; their White Walker cold guitar tones cut through the atmosphere of their massive sound that I didn’t think the Peer Hat PA was capable of.

The Dirt started their set with the palpitatingly exhilarant standout single, Ignorance is Bliss; beneath the psychonautic vortex of guitars lay a brashy caustic backbeat, visceral enough to reminiscence Nine Inch Nails, but even Trent Reznor himself couldn’t match the sharp convictive stage energy that Jack Horner arrested the room with.

Veering straight into the second single from the album, Power Junkie, the Dirt maddened the Madchester sound to the nth degree; Sachiko, armed with her Rickenbacker and a pedalboard that lights up like Blackpool illuminations, drove through her guitar lines through the narrated credence of how insurmountably trodden on the masses are. More than keeping their finger on the pulse of current political scandal and sleaze, The Dirt grips the liberties taken by our disaster capitalist leaders by the throat to squeeze out the odious juice.

Towards the end of the set, the experimentalism amplified around the demands to match the dissenting nature of the Dirt and get off the fences we have got cosy on in recent years. From Cyberman-ESQUE deliverances of vocal lines to wailing psychedelic static capable of tripping switches in your mind that have gathered dust through inexposure to aural innovation, it was an unforgettable performance that exceeded all expectation.

Listen to Agitator on Bandcamp, or grab a vinyl copy from the Golden Believers Records page.

Review by Amelia Vandergast