NYLON - February 2009 - (Page 111) radar: JUST NINE HOURS after leaving the stage of The Warehouse Project—an annual series of raves that takes over abandoned tunnels underneath Manchester’s Piccadilly train station—to rapturous applause, the Whip regroup midday Sunday at Cornerhouse, the city’s evergreen arts, cinema, and gallery space. All have their sunglasses on— perhaps because they know they look a little bedraggled. A homecoming of sorts, the gig confirmed what many of us already knew—that the Whip are destined for great things. “When we first started,” says frontman Bruce Carter, “we were playing the usual rock ’n’ roll venues that most small bands have to play. But promoters and friends started to offer us shows at their clubs—the way the audience responds to music in a club is so different—and that began to shape the way we wrote our material.” The old divide of rock and dance is falling by the wayside, and the Whip are blending both, tapping into the way people are now listening to music. “We are the in-betweeners,” offers Danny Saville, the electronics guy, and co-songwriter. “That’s where the people with any sense are. In the old days the music industry in the U.K. wouldn’t know what to do with the likes of us. We would have fallen down the cracks. Now we try our best not to define our music so that people don’t have preconceptions.” “Let’s just say we make rekkids,” laughs Carter. “I don’t mind that.” Former members of another hotly tipped but doomed band by the name electro clash manchester outfit the whip are redefining genres one party at a time. by richard hector-jones. photographed by pavla kopecna of Nylon Pylon, Carter and Saville were on course for big things, until clunky A&R and record-label politics saw the young band floundering without a release for people to judge it by. “If anyone tells you your record sounds expensive, run away,” laughs Carter, without bitterness. This trial by fire saw them step back, learn from their mistakes, and then re-enter the party along with bassist Nathan Sudders, drummer Lil Fee (real from left: bruce carter, name: Fiona Daniel), a renewed sense nathan sudders, of urgency, and a desire to connect lil fee, danny nally starting with their audience. It’s fisaville to pay dividends. Their debut album, X Marks Destination—with its terrific, showfinishing single, “Trash”—is the work of a band whose members know that success in their field involves striking hearts and feet in roughly equal measures. It’s a throbbing, pulsating rock sound that draws as much on Felix da Housecat and filtered Parisian disco as it does from fellow native Mancunian sons New Order and their bittersweet hooks. “It is always good to play Manchester,” says Sudders, reflecting on last night’s sterling show, “but we just want to get out there. That’s how you do it these days—play and play and get out there and meet people. We played a few shows at South by South West this year and loved it. When you arrive, no one knows you so you play and play. By the end of it, we had queues of people coming to our last show.” “We had Michael Stipe come down to see us,” interjects Carter. “Apparently, he was standing with our sound guy. I didn’t know this at the time and, as usual, went to have a drink with folks in the crowd after.” “I think our problem right now might be that we party for the fans,” says Lil Fee, cracking up as she says it. “I remember going to see bands in the past and expecting them to hang out and party after. It’s part of the job of a band to do that sort of thing.” “We have the opportunity to play to people all over the world at the moment,” says Carter, “and we’re going to take it. “This is not the time to be aloof.”
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