Gig Review: Opus Kink play their Huddersfield debut at The Parish

As I step into the stark light of a Brighton underpass I know all too well, that familiar dread washes over me on my way to The Parish. Two figures are intertwined in a desperate embrace, the cracked walls holding their weight up as they lock into a kiss. I scurry past with only one purpose in mind - to go see Opus Kink at The Parish.  

I am all too familiar with the Brighton sextet. Having watched them in various iterations and in many different playing fields, I always seem to think I have the measure of them and each time I’m proven wrong. Formed in 2017, they’ve occasionally decided to release music in between neverending tours. Initially, it was the AA side Faster Than the Radio / Mosquito in 2019 and then the 2022 EP ‘Til The Stream Runs Dry after a couple more singles produced by Tim Burgess. While this was happening, the name Opus Kink was spreading like wildfire in various scenes for one thing - the live shows. An intoxicating presence on stage, Opus Kink can force any crowd to give in. Now, they’ve announced - after a tormentful wait - the release of their debut album The Sweet Goodbye in July. While it may feel as though it’s resting in a far-off future, good things happen to those who wait.  

opus kink take the stage at the parish, brighton

photo: Maeve a.

With an endearing lack of hoopla the band make their way onto the stage and the desperate echo of Come Over, Do Me Wrong starts to circulate the room. Having just been released last week it sounds incredibly cozy live. As soon as the music starts, so does the on-stage shenanigans. Frontman Angus Rogers contorts his body in every which manner, thrashing about to the raucous crash of the saxophone. With arms outstretched, Jesus-esque, he’s bathed in a red light. If there's a hell, this is surely the music played in its sleaziest dive bars.  

OPUS KINK LIVE AT THE PARISH, BRIGHTON

photo: Maeve a.

It’s the tracks like Dust and I Wanna Live With You that get the most stubborn moving, replacing the more raw abrasive punk with an insidious groove that calls on their funk and jazz influences. You really can’t take your eyes off them - it’s the intensity in which they glare out into the crowd, with keyboardist Jazz Pope often appearing semi-detached from whatever’s going on. The vehemence of the sound is enough to send people mad, parts of the room morphing into a writhing mass of bodies. Between the muddy basslines and vaguely menacing keyboard are feverish moments of spoken word. You must remember the man was born a poet and chose to be a rockstar. His words, often accompanied by the dull drone of various instruments, hones in on a nightmarish soundscape. You’ll often be made to feel like this at one of their shows, lost in a landscape unfamiliar to you, littered with religious and medieval imagery and brought to life with the purest of passions. This peaks with Malarkey, clocking in at just over five minutes. With the lights down low, the throbbing beat ferments in an already sweaty and begging crowd. It’s difficult to not feel an all encompassing sense of foreboding.  

It only feels appropriate to spend Easter Sunday with Opus Kink. Every ordeal involving them appears to turn into some form of worship. At one point, Angus instructs us to raise one arm for Jesus, the other for DJ Smile and for the men to raise a third arm for Opus Kink. The track Crucify! off the forthcoming album closes the night. It may well be considered blasphemous. It’s a sort of demented ballad to self, leaving you feeling cleansed and holy. Opus Kink’s music as a whole plays on fraught nerves and pushes you to the edge of every heightened emotion you are able to feel, I’m sure one day people will have to be sectioned after witnessing them live.  

After it’s all over the band make their way over to the merch stand where I grab a few words with Angus, primarily asking him to venture back to a venue near me. They all come across overwhelmingly well-adjusted off stage. However, after all is said and done, I am left thinking about the intertwined bodies in the underpass, stuck in an infinite kiss. I am sure I have just witnessed something equally as impassioned.  

Opus Kink backstage at The Parish, Brighton

photo: Maeve a.