Review: The Dillinger Escape Plan, ho99o9 and Primitive Weapons, Birmingham Institute

Primitive Weapons, who put out one of last year's most underrated albums in The Future of Death, are already part way through their set when I get into the Institute.

The New Yorkers like to put a bit of fun into their dissonant-yet-melodic metal, and the brooding Panopticon Blues slips seamlessly into party anthem The Electric Drama and the sledgehammer-heavy Ashes or Paradise.

Singer David Castillo is a livewire, headbanging and fist pumping his way through the band's short set.

Primitive Weapons make me feel like smashing things into smithereens with a great big smile plastered across my face.

New Jersey hip-hop trio ho99o9 (pronounced horror) have to be seen to be believed.

A tall man with tree branch-thick dreads, wearing a wedding dress and a balaclava, paces onto the stage as a drum machine and a live drummer pound out beats so loud that the floor of the venue starts to quake.

His name is The OGM and he launches into a hideous rap like it's the dawn of nu-metal all over again.

Within seconds he is joined by Eaddy, decked out in camo trousers and a Thrasher t-shirt. "Wake the f*ck up!" he screams, before unleashing the best impression of Bad Brains' HR that I've ever seen.

It is part Death Grips, part early 80s hardcore and part Limp Bizkit.

Eaddy's energy never once relents during the course of the band's half hour set. One minute he's in the crowd orchestrating a circle pit, promising to 'teach you good ol' boys a lesson', the next he's back on stage running around like a maniac.

The OGM soon strips off his wedding dress and straps on a head torch as the venue's lights fade to black.

It is a dizzying spectacle, part ridiculous but so in-your-face that it is hard not to get carried along by it all.

By the time they finish off the set with a barmy cyber-punk cover of Bad Brains' 'Attitude', the crowd, which had been subdued at first, are going wild.

After a much needed breather it is time for headliners The Dillinger Escape Plan to hit the stage in Birmingham for what is likely to be the final time, the New Jersey quintet having announced they are splitting up after this final round of touring.

Over the course of their 20 year history TDEP have gained a well earned reputation as one of the most explosive live bands in metal.

Their shows have included fire breathing, fireworks, smashed instruments, blooded up band members, and on one particularly unsavoury occasion, a bag of human faeces.

Although they have undoubtedly mellowed with age, TDEP proved tonight why they will be sorely missed once they finally bow out.

They sparked something of a metal revolution in the late 90s, when Under the Running Board and Calculating Infinity blended a head-spinning level of technicality and monumental riffs that confused some but enlightened many.

They are usually branded as mathmetal or metalcore, but the labels never quite fit as far as TDEP are concerned.

Tonight's set is dripping in nostalgia for those of us who have been with them from the start. Tracks from all six albums get an airing in front of the packed crowd, and as always the band are note perfect in their delivery.

Singer Greg Puciato switches between machine gun rapid delivery to a quite beautiful soul singers croon. He sounds unhinged during rippers such as Hero of the Soviet Union, as he bellows, "You are the scum of the Earth!" there is madness in his eyes.

But when he sings "She moves like a stray cat," on One of us is the Killer, it is truly a thing of beauty.

In full flow they are an unstoppable force. TDEP barely take a moment to catch their breath as Ire Works' Milk Lizard goes into Low Feels Blvd from triumphant latest album Dissociation.

Guitarist and founding member Ben Weinman is like a Whirling Dervish, prompting concerned looks from security staff at one point as he clambered up a speaker stack and leapt 15ft back onto the stage.

In true TDEP style there are no lengthy between-song diatribes. They don't need to tell Birmingham how happy they are to be here, preferring instead to let the music do the talking.

As the final notes of 43% Burnt ring around the venue, Puciato walks to the front of the stage and stares out at the cheering crowd, his hands clasped together almost as if he is saying a prayer of thanks.

The rest of us are left to reflect on the fact that one of the most brilliant and innovative bands in metal is soon to be no more.

By Pete Madeley