Live review: Motionless In White, Manchester O2 Victoria Warehouse

“I knew Manchester was going to go off today,” Chris Motionless observes from the sea of rabid black-clad fans that have made the trek to Victoria Warehouse.

It could have been a spooky premonition, but it comes not from intuition but logic. He explains that he’s kept a keen eye on number. Ever since Motionless In White started coming to Manchester a decade and a half ago, the city has been the most consistent in terms of ticket sales in the whole country. Tonight’s sold-out headliner is no different and to say thank you, the Scranton goth-metallers are giving 3,500 moshers a chance to “lose their shit”.

They’ve not given their fans a chance to ease in gently. Both support acts are of a heavier ilk than Motionless themselves but together feel like a vessel transporting fans back to the headliners’ more scabrous early days.

Brand Of Sacrifice have lured a chunky majority of the crowd in early for a fiery half hour of aural punishment, combating Victoria Warehouse’s booming, bass-heavy sound system by embracing the chance to sound as apocalyptic as possible. Fit For A King capitalise on this with a wicked combination of lacerating riffs and frontman Ryan Kirby’s vicious delivery, which almost immediately has the pit yawning open for the fans to cram some cardio in for the day. It might not rise above the usual frontiers of metalcore, but this lot have gone beyond just fulfilling the assignment and have owned the space while they have it.

But then, the wail of a distress signal beckons the arrival of Motionless In White. Firing off with the scintillating arrival of opener Meltdown, they’re about as outlandish as you can get in a big venue like this – lurid video screens, balls of fire, dancers – the Alicia Taylor-led Cherry Bombs – with an overflowing box of props. They twirl flaming batons for goth party anthem Necessary Evil ('It’s my party and I’ll die if I want to' really becomes a rapturous line live), they whip out pom-poms for Undead Ahead 2: The Tale of The Midnight Ride, and toss packets of Haribo into the crowd, like this is some macabre pantomime. One dancer even pop ups wearing a wolf head for Werewolf, which is perhaps more unintentionally hilarious than they intend.

Motionless In White have always held vampish drama as a calling card, but it’s never quite got this outrageous before. It’s so outrageous it’s almost goofy, but in a way that they successfully carry off. Then again, given Chris makes in Not My Type the truly ridiculous declaration of 'She loves me ‘cause I like to give head like a zombie,' it’s not exactly out of character.

At the same time, Chris isn’t an ostentatious master of ceremonies, a wiry, shadowy presence in a black trench coat with a quiet yet palpable command of the crowd. Understated but cool, he seems focused not on the mayhem in front of him but on connection, taking in the room and making everyone in front of him feel seen. It feels all the more magnetic for the set’s more emotional, yet never syrupy moments, from the bleeding-heart balladry of Masterpiece to a magnificent airing of Voices and a magical closing one-two of Another Life and Eternally Yours.

Motionless In White’s idea of aiming higher is to be larger-than-life, more so than they’ve ever been perhaps. Sometimes it’s silly, it’s even a little sexy, it’s stupidly fun.

Read this:

• The rise of Motionless In White, as told through their most important gigs
  
• “Security guards started a full-on brawl with us”: 13 Questions with Chris Motionless
• Chris Motionless: "It Sucks To Feel Like I’m Losing Myself In This Alternate Person I Feel Like I Have To Be"