The black boots/black garms community had come out in full force to sell Project House out for Boston Manor’s headliner. There to celebrate the recent release of their whopping new album, ‘Sundiver’, party mode was well and truly activated. Having seen them before (supporting the iconic Alexisonfire) and bought a ticket as a punter, I’ll keep this reasonably short and sweet, and urge to you now to spin the record.

Split Chain from Bristol opened. Although the vocals were a bit on the quiet side at times, they more than made up for that through their heavy riffs artillery. Token screams were heard as the room started to seriously fill. And they were the ideal outfit to pave the way for Trophy Eyes, the Aussie quad there as main support — they’re good pals of Boston Manor, after all.

I got the sense a lot had turned up for Trophy Eyes, as their self-proclaimed sad songs continue to fuel the modern-day emo generation. The yelps in the crowd proved that. As they served hit after hit, including ‘Figure Eight’, ‘People Like You’ and the new ‘Enmore’, their headliner energy was evident. And I later went on to learn they’ve toured with BM across three continents now. A group I’d certainly see again.

‘Datura (Dawn)’ was the perfect walk-on for Boston Manor. The birdsong descended into a tone-setting, romping heaviness that underpinned the series of old and new tracks. Frontman Henry confessed he was struggling with illness, yet his vocals remained clear and sharp. His plea to the crowd to sing along was wise, though — and something we could all commit to. 

Naturally, being there, John Floreani bounced back out for their anthemic ‘Liquid’ collaboration, which sparked roaring elation. The crowd was in raptures for original belters such as ‘Halo’, too. ‘Container’ was clearly a new fan favourite from ‘Sundiver’, with ‘HEAT ME UP’ and ‘Sliding Doors’ just behind, expectedly. 

I’m typically more of a hip-shaker than a mosher or singer at gigs, but I couldn’t resist belting out the words to the gigantic ‘Crocus’. Its lyrics are stirring, so the mood was right for a cleansing singalong. ‘I Don’t Like People (& They Don’t Like Me)’ brought with it another display of the band’s excellent cohesion and tight instruments, from rumbling bass and thudding drums to punch-in-the-face six-string riffs and licks. Another major moment to remember was when ‘Passenger’ came on. Saved for the penultimate spot, it was a parting gift that nobody could help but jump to. 

Whether I’m blaring them out of my earphones in the gym or I’m (almost) front row at their gigs, I’m comfortably aboard the Boston Manor train.