Tyron “Slowthai” Frampton’s arrival was preceded by a vigorous audience chant of “Fuck Boris” – the same sentiment expressed by the Northampton rapper when he stole the show at last month’s Mercury Prize ceremony, also available in the lobby for £25 in T-shirt form, if anyone fancied marking this politically charged weekend by wearing multiple naked cartoon Prime Ministers.
Plenty of attendees could have afforded it, given that tickets to see this UK tour cost just £5 a head. It cemented Frampton’s status as a man of the people, as did the stage lined with mirrors so that the rowdy crowd could admire themselves as much as the shirtless man in the middle. It still left him enough cash for bursts of fire, steam and a striking shower of sparks in a sweaty, energetic show.
His debut album, Nothing Great About Britain, offers a grim portrait of life for young folk round here. “This next song’s about ketamine,” he yelled before the tense, paranoid GTFOMF. Murky sound meant any chance of subtlety was lost, with the audible music reduced to grinding bass and stuttering snares.
The many who knew every word had a ball yelling along. “I need carnage,” yelled the star, introducing the punk bedlam of Doorman. He got it, at a bargain price, though the cleverer elements of his timely songs would have been more obvious somewhere else.