The time is now for Terris...
In the end it’s like Suicide. Neil Dugmore’s bass loops reach terminal velocity, Alun Bound coaxes teeth-loosening feedback from his amp and frontman Gavin Goodwin is howling “let go, let go” repeatedly. It’s a ride that’s gone via bug-eyed New FADS-style funk and a streamlined Guns N’Roses rock out – and that’s in the space of one song. Goodwin looks disoriented as he makes for the exit, while a small army of junior lookalikes at the front roar approval.
In the beginning, guttural grunts and tribal drumming puncture the Dingwalls chatter. And it’s easy to imagine Terris – four young men of serious intent – indulging in a Maori haiku backstage, so intense is the gusto with which they rip into the epic ‘White Gold Way’, especially its air-punching chorus. With guitarist Bound capable of switching from melodic Bernard Butler guitar lines to fluid funk, plus a floppy John Bonham on drums, most of Terris’ songs (bar one odd detour into stadium reggae) are bolted onto an indie-dance chassis.
What elevates them is Goodwin, who spills lyrics all over the songs like the ideas are tumbling from his fevered brow, almost rapping the final verses of ‘Deliverance’. That, and a tendency to press the ‘Slash’ pedal and graft on some huge blustering codas to the likes of ‘Beneath The Belt’, also bolstered by some choice electro burbles from Dugmore.
Unspecified angst you can dance to with a side-order of stadium-hugging ambition, the time really is now for Terris.