Live Review: Mutation at Camden Underworld

Followers of Ginger Wildheart’s career have always had a pic ‘ n’ mix bag, a musical lucky dip of styles, genres and paths trodden. His latest side project MUTATION is an eclectic cocktail of Thrash, Punk, Speed and full on desperate raw emotion. The band’s last album ‘Mutation 111: Dark Black’ was written while both Ginger and bandmate Scott Lee Andrews were dealing with severe bouts of depression and their mental turmoil was transported into song, nothing, no matter how extreme, was off limits. The album is brutal, fast and disturbing. The chance to see Mutation try to replicate these songs live was just too intriguing to miss. First up tonight is BARRABUS who grab the Underworld by the ears with a set of damn fine Punk Rock noise. The Jello-esque singing style is complemented by some gut gurgling backing vocals and with them all dressed in black suits they cut quite an imposing dash. Highlights of the short but entertaining set include ‘Kleptomaniac’ and a stunning ‘Behind Closed Doors’, Barrabus are well worth getting in early for. Visually, the hotchpotch of Mutation amps seem to be stacked like suitcases in a charter luggage hold, it gives the stage a strange holiday feel, which is soon completely obliterated. Ginger and Scott have been joined by drummer Denzel for the subsequent tours and it is Denzel who is perched front ‘n’ centre, in more ways than one. He annihilates his kit, resulting in (longtime Ginger roadie and friend) Dunc scrambling around with a torch in his mouth trying to re-attach cymbals and constantly tightening various parts that have been battered into skin submission. The half-full Underworld is treated (?) to a kidney squeezing night of cathartic noise from the very depths of Ginger’s and Lee’s tortured souls. ‘Toxins’, ‘Hate’ and ‘Skint’ all hammer the skull with a devastatingly violent, albeit pleasant, effect. There are a few hardcore fans at the front headbanging, jostling and desperately trying to find a rhythm, beat or anything to move in time to, it can’t be done. Ginger keeps the between song banter down to a solitary “thanks” this is not a night for tales or jokes. ‘Irritant’ provides the spat out line/chorus of “Fuck off you cunt, you are an irritant” which is repeated until it sinks into your very being and then suddenly it all makes perfect sense. The noise, pain, anxiety and anguish, they all align for fleeting moments of musical mastery. That said Mutation are the live equivalent of having a jet fighter taking off in your living room. As the band head off stage after forty-five brain bruising minutes it occurs to me that the next time I’ll see Ginger he’ll be playing and promoting his country-tinged album ‘Ghost In The Tanglewood’ or sharing a stage with CJ for an acoustic run of Wildhearts shows. Both of which are about as far from the ear-splitting emotional turbulence of Mutation as you can possibly get. It’s always interesting following that there Ginger, speaking truths and wearing scars, always.