THE whip + south central

It’s a start that has us already moving when the lights go down and Daft Punk’s ‘Prime Time Of Your Life’ spirals with gathering electro grittiness. “Alright Manchester, there’s no place like home…” Out of their Salford basement and into the world, THE WHIP’s New Order-cum-Ed Banger pop has been seared onto this city’s nightlife-frazzled subconscious over the past three years. Sold out for weeks, this is first time we’ve had them back since they headlined in front of thousands in an air raid shelter beneath Piccadilly station. And tonight, the atmosphere’s no different, as ‘Divebomb’ pulses anthemically and the crowd back out into dancing space. Rolling into ‘Muzzle No. 1’, Bruce and Danny fire riffs off at each other; the latter pogoing like a kid whilst the singer stands at the stage edge, stony faced and punching his spare fist in all directions. ‘Save My Soul’ feels like one of those desperate clubbing revelations - where your life could end at this very moment. But any profound notions soon shatter, as ‘Trash’ motors up the hedonistic Manc rioting all over again. Sweat’s run into your eyes and you won’t walk properly again all week, but any pent-up tension in every raver tonight has been well and truly released. How long til we get our next fix? Best get them festivals sorted… LEAD PHOTO: SOUTH CENTRAL / WIDESCREEN PHOTOS: THE WHIP