65daysofstatic

Watching 65 Days Of Static is a celluloid experience. The band’s epic, electronic alt-rock floods through the audience’s eyes like light into a lens, creating its own story by tapping into each listener’s personal experiences. Such is the power of instrumental music – and the energy that results from the intimate relationship between performer and packed venue helps build the 65 Days set to a spine-tingling close. Not that it starts as convincingly as it ends. The quartet’s material relies on the crowd’s rapt attention and for newcomers to their music it takes some time to find a point to proceedings. By the end of the night, however, the Sheffield outfit are showing off their biggest tracks and an assaultive finale does go a long way to justifying an opening which suffers from the absence of vocal melodies (think Oceansize or My Vitriol without words). Given the filmic qualities of the music, however, it’s actually fitting that the set develops as it does. This is a journey and the conclusion ultimately makes sense of all that precedes it. Everyone hopes they’ll be able to say the same of their lives, and this shared, if subconscious, understanding, continues to unify the Cockpit crowd. Effectively, 65 Days Of Static use their imaginations to open the congregation’s – flipping brains open like kettle lids and creating earthquakes out of tremors. Theirs is a story of survival interpreted in notes and keys, and to understand that is to know a little bit more about human nature.