World Inferno Friendship Society are a collective with unconditional love for most cities, but they particularly adore Brighton.
The New York six-piece have made three visits here in two recent and exhaustive world tours, during which time crazed singer Jack Terricloth has stunk out the same 1940s suit for months on end.
Clutching a bottle of wine, Terricloth strode on stage to the reception of a mob chant, and it wasn’t long before the saxes, blistering drums and sprinting basslines followed in a flurry of punk-jazz theatrics.
A determinedly-hedonistic bunch of anarchists, the Inferno were all dreadlocks, piercings and dripping sweat, laughing mockingly at the minor inconvenience of having to catch a flight back to the US at 7am the next morning.
The Velocity Of Love became a bittersweet romp of bombastic horns, and Only Anarchists Are Pretty was the sound of a cabaret band whizzing through a fairground.
“Just another circus, just another night,” purred Terricloth at the curfew-busting finale of this clattering final tour date, as if they’d be breezing back in the following night.
Had his audience got their way, it would have been the truth.
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