Featured image: Gary Conway

It’s just under a year since Martial Arts opened a four-band bill at Soup. Jammy early punters saw them demolish the place at an ungodly hour, the lower slopes of a trajectory that has seen them leave jaws agape across the city, across the country, and even into mainland Europe.

Three singles in, and they’ve sold out YES’ Pink Room. 

It perhaps helps that tonight is part of Akoustik Anarkhy’s 25^th birthday celebrations. Party balloons waft from rafters, with Open Fly’s singer – all attitude and exaggerated winged eyeliner – single-handedly making them sway even more with her howls.

The bassist’s tartan strides and lead guitarist’s Tam o’Shanter lend the whole shebang a Supergran vibe, albeit seen through a snarling Babes in Toyland prism. It’s rudimentary stuff, but worth it for the band ending the set in a giggling mess on the floor.

Mleko are an altogether more complex prospect. Six members squeeze across the stage, bobbing like a family of seals in front of drummer, Ioan, while saxophonist Tom parps a woozy intro that could’ve graced Destroyer’s seminal Kaputt album. 

Each song embarks on a voyage, trading melodies between trumpet, sax, synth, bass and three guitars. Frontman Ed, side-eyes locked onto his fretboard, conducts the interlocking warps and wefts as Mleko clatter through ‘Lego Sex’ and a host of tunes that could double-up as a folk horror movie soundtrack.

If they’re this good now, just wait until they actually release something.

Holly Head are ahead of that particular game. The four-piece released their debut single a couple of months back and recorded a 6 Music session at the end of October. It’s put a spring in the step of bassist, Liam, who boomerangs around the centre of the Pink Room’s stage, leaving singer/guitarist Joe to take shelter in the right corner, angling himself at 45 degrees to the mic.

The band have a surfeit of energy, which drummer Oscar soaks us and dissipates through his kit, one motion-blurred fill at a time. It’s all at odds with the laconic vocals, but that single, ‘No Gain’ sparks the night’s first proper pit, which in footballing parlance would qualify as ‘limbs’.

Excellent.

After stumbling across them at a festival in Withington last year, Martial Arts are the band that tempted Akoustik Anarkhy out of semi-retirement. Emerging fully formed from their rehearsal room cocoon, they’ve been willing to put in the hard yards, going off the beaten track to gig in obscure backwaters: Barrow, Clitheroe, Paris.

The quintet emerges into a dry ice peasouper, barely visible through the miasma, with frontman Jim Marson geeing up the throng with an uncharacteristic “C’mon!”. The band’s confidence is so strong that they kick off with a couple of unfamiliar new tracks, but they’re of such quality it doesn’t feel as though they’re throwing caution to the wind. Guitarist Matty Pearce thrusts his neck back and forth, like a thoroughbred at full tilt, while bassist Jude Collins is unflappable amid the chaos. You’d want him as your building’s fire warden.

Pearce almost coughs up a lung during his vocals on the sublime ‘The New House’, while his “I wouldn’t know where to start drawing pictures in the dark,” section of second single ‘Defector’ would be the highlight of the set for 99% of mere mortal bands. With Martial Arts, it’s one of a dozen.

‘Warsaw’ ignites the capacity crowd, carrying through to ‘Triumph’ as sweat cascades down Marson’s face, while Jack Brown’s right arm telegraphs each chorus with an enthusiastic jiggle of his guitar lead. As ever, ‘Self Portrait’ rounds off the show, its kneel down/bounce around set piece causing carnage down the front.

Martial Arts are the best new band in Manchester. It isn’t up for debate. They now just need to conquer everywhere else.