.jpeg)
Stepping into the practice space, the band took their places, performing in a circle to each other, which demonstrated an immediate synergy between the four. As they tuned their instruments, they laughed and discussed which songs to play and which keys to play them in. The band jokes about how much they can piss off their rehearsal space with their volume, playfully pushing their sound to the limit before they have even begun. The band led with the marching bombast of ‘Boy Called Wolf’. The heavy bass tone and sparkling drums push forward amongst the punishing central riff, the classic rock theatricality woven into the noise. The song’s central narrative is a scathing critique of an unfavourable man who is beaten down not only by the lyrics but also by the weight of the song's instrumentation. The rise and fall of the song presented a perfect representation of the dramatic flair the band is all about. Ending with a coordinated courtesy, the band has almost presented their thesis statement, a baroque-flavoured rock and roll parade.
Frontman Kurt introduces the next song as their soon-to-be-released debut single. ‘Lucky’ takes the driving bass and applies it to an atmospheric twist on familiar notions of the rock canon. With its gang vocals and soaring riffs, the song is reminiscent of some of the heavyweights of the 2000s rock revival. The song is haunting in all the right ways, the band as a unit have mastered the pull and push of noise, they are able to draw tension at the right moment,s allowing for the perfect punch to the gut of the guitar. The song is undeniably anthemic, driven by the commanding drums of Rost, its breakdown ringing in the ears long after the song ended. The dynamic instrumentation the band presented in their first song is also present here; its eerie landscape is reminiscent of the work of bands like The Brobecks. As the introduction to the Endshow experience, ‘Lucky’ is a perfect first spoonful, grabbing the listener by the hand and dragging them headfirst through the pompous tug of war of the band's sound.
Next to be presented for dissection is ‘Clues’, a piano-heavy spoonful that best represents the strong classical influence that the band wears proudly. The grandiose swell is nothing short of suited for a rock opera. The song takes no mercy, ballooning outward, filling up the room and pushing against the walls, the threat of rupture always looming. There is always an abject horror lurking within the walls of the arrangements. A hauntingly addictive presence permeates the song, dramatic and unflinching, it calls back to the work of bands such as The Paper Chase in its unnerving underbelly.
Wasting no time and keen to squeeze in as much material as possible, the band moved swiftly on to ‘Someone Like You’, poking and prodding the body of the song with new ideas of new octaves and ideas. Someone says, “‘Mr Brightside’ or ‘Mr Blue Sky’?” “'Mr Blue Sky'”, they all agree. This will go on to make perfect sense as the band opens up into the song, Wheeldon’s bass buttery as it leads the rest of the band into this sunsoaked symphony. The yearning of the vocal lines married with the golden guitar and backed by the pep of the rhythm section are absolutely in conversation with E.L.O. In what we can now understand as classic Endshow fashion, the keys turn unnerving, and the jump of the drums becomes almost threatening, turning the mood of the song to full-scale psychosis in the best way. After the song ends, they continue its autopsy; they all share that they cannot hear themselves play, but are big fans of what everyone else is doing.
As they think of their last song, Caines plays a melody on guitar. “That’s nice”, Wheeldon says, “it’s Pink Floyd”, he shares. “That’s why it’s nice”, the bassist replies. They decide to end on ‘Fallen’. The song begins much more stripped back than the others, starting with a Bauhaus-esque scratch of guitar that swells into a full-fat track with a heavy 80s feeling, like the soundtrack to the triumphant end of a John Hughes movie. The chorus releases like a freefall through a cloudy haze as that scratchy guitar persists underneath. Ending in a delicious breakdown, the band decide that in the last 10 minutes they want to jam instead of being sensible and packing up - to piss off their rehearsal space once again.
Despite their attraction to messing with those around them, they carry a welcoming energy within their space. Watching them debate key changes and tones of synth demonstrates the comfortable creative environment that they have cultivated as a unit. Yelling notes at each other across the room, they launch into their final jam. They instinctively understand what they want to achieve, seamlessly blending together to form a cohesive vision. The transportative instrumental carries the same peaks and valleys as their other work, carrying the listener through a thick bed of sound. They are unafraid to get heavy when they need to, but also understand the importance of gentleness. The guitars make tantalising conversation, bordering on the oil-slicked tones mastered by Orange Juice on 'Rip It Up'. The jam is deliciously dense, the “mega” riff wades through. The four seem quite pleased with it.
Boisterous and uncompromising, Endshow are a slick amalgamation of their influences. The music takes up space and decorates the world around it. This is no mistake. The band have visions of a grand carnival of debauchery that will follow them as they play. As they talk of their plans over a pint, they mention plague doctors, lines of cheerleaders, suits of armour, a party at the end of the world, excess in and amongst collapse. It is clear that the world of their music can only grow bigger. Rost mentions the recent stage spectacle of My Chemical Romance’s ‘Long Live The Black Parade’ tour, with its onstage murder and corrupt fictional governments paired with ornate costuming, as an example of the conceptual heights they wish to reach. Inspired heavily not only by classical composition and philosophy, but also by Goethe’s ‘Faust’ and hypnotism, Endshow strive to be a band that brings their references into a shiny new package. Kurt especially borders on perfectionism in his crusade for the sound and vision to be as tight and rehearsed as possible, obsessing over detail in the way many frontmen have done before him. Sitting in the rain once again, he shares his fascination with Wagner’s application of Gesamtkunstwerk - a complete and total work of art. In a sea of stripped-back rock, they see the unlimited potential of the theatrical.
The band are greatly excited for their future, waiting for them on the other side of the release of 'Lucky', not only to have the single out in the world but also to see how studio writing will adapt their sound. Children of the London gig circuit, Caines admits their sound is primarily crafted with a live environment in mind. They have tailored their sound to make the biggest impact possible in the shortest amount of time. But the guitarist admits that he would love to see how access to different environments may impact the way they construct their sound.
Endshow has big plans; a band with aspirations of grandeur that border on the morbid. Sitting in the rain outside of a North West London pub, they theorise and romanticise their own future, one that is undeniably promising. Before retiring for the evening, Kurt leaves MITB with some key listening: Rufus Wainwright's 'All Dessen Müd (Sonnet 66)'.
The band will release 'Lucky' soon. Make sure to follow them online here in order to know when. In the meantime, they can be found playing shows around London, bringing the elusive Endshow experience to unsuspecting audiences across the capital.
Eylem Boz
Images: Patrick Dempsey (@patrickdempsey__)
If you enjoyed reading this article, please consider buying us a coffee. The money from this pot goes towards the ever-increasing yearly costs of running and hosting the site and our "Writer Of The Month" cash prize.