The only fake thing about this evening was the name of the White Hotel in Salford. There is nothing “hotel” about the White Hotel. There isn’t much “white” about the White Hotel. But its a banging kind of disused garage in an area which estate agents might describe as an “interesting” part of Salford (or “Manchester West” as actual hotels describe the city).

It was nice to see the tips of Strangeways Prison in the distance on the way in on the week Andy Rouke passed away. Strangeways felt safe and comforting compared to the White Hotel.

However, this website isn’t called “architect times”, so while the venue showed just how much enterprising dedicated folk can achieve in a building with relatively little, we were here to listen to the music and take in the vibes. Of both there was plenty.

The support band was Splint, a band I first saw with a different membership around 18 months ago, but always focussed around the captivating and enigmatic lead man Jake Bogacki, and I think guitarist George Davies was there too.

I always ponder a bands image and who they are, from the attire they decide to wear. Here Splint do a great job of telling us they are here simply to work hard and honest. Pretty much like the venue this evening, Jake and his band generally dress to unimpress. I will exclude drummer Ellie from this observation.

I saw Splint a few weeks back for my second time at the Grayston Unity in Halifax, and saw Jake’s white splattered hard shoes and the splashes of white powder, and liquid down his bare arms. Jake is either a high grade drug factory worker, mucks out a chicken farm, or he is a plasterer (I favour the latter theory).

This time around Jake was wearing a t-shirt with an impressive array of holes created through wear. It could easily become a manufactured merch thing, if Splint were a band troubled by image.

I like that Splint deliberately confront their audience with hard work. It makes standing there with a pint in hand more decadent.

Hard work also describe Splint in action. Musically Splint never seem to get it wrong. Tight as a drum, they all seem to naturally know their place in each song. It seems Bogacki spends a proportion of his time crouched down using a violin bow on his guitar strings, changing the tuning, or fiddling with pedals and switches (that’s as musically technical as I get dear reader). While it feels a touch distracting perhaps, clearly those edges and twiddles give the band their strong perfect sound.

My more knowledgeable gig companion was drawing some comparisons in the rhythms with someone like the German kraut rock band Neu! Having reminded myself of Neu! later, I could see what he meant, although I will also stick with my vague comparison to the dark, banging and urgent first Psychedelic Furs album where Jake’s deep strident vocals also have a vague similarity. Forget Pretty in Pink, this is where the Furs were magnificent and were melded to the heart of the Velvet Underground.

Talking of the term Kraut Rock, I’m guessing we should really lose using that derogatory term.

While I can give some vague references to other bands, lets not be wrong; Splint are their own men and women. Heavy and melodic is the name of the game.

Drummer Ellie Rose Elliott fascinates me playing live as she seems so completely zoned into the music and the moment. Listening to the beats and how they led the intricate rhythms and tunes in the Splint songs I could dive in too and forget the troubles of the world this week.

To completely immerse yourself in a band’s performance and in their creation is their greatest gift. Thank you Splint – this will not be my last time in your company (haha, meant in a gig going capacity rather than a weirdo stalker one).

Dyslexia is a fun voyage of discovery sometimes. I knew full well that House of All were packed to the rafters with former Fall members. What I hadn’t realised is how Mark E’s family were unhappy with the band name as it suggested it was some kind of approved Fall follow up.

The name was far too subtle for me, dear reader. Doh.

Having heard House of All and having given the band’s debut album a spin, I thought that any suggestion the band were seeking to capitalise on their association with the Fall to be completely off beam. House of All are extending their musical experiences and interests, not giving it a tired run through. To be fair there were times when it perhaps felt Mark E himself was almost in a pastiche.

As the band suggest, their music is a reflection of being from the Fall family. Besides, when you consider lead vocalist Martin Bramah co-wrote much of the material from the start of the band until he left the Fall in 1979, it seems clear he also had an input into what made The Fall the Fall.

Martin Bramah is now 65, and also sang and created one of my favourite albums from when I was a teen and still play to death – the Blue Orchids, The Greatest Hit. I was soon struck by Bramah’s vocals and how it took me back to those Orchid years.

House of All have two drummers which must have the support staff setting up the stage cursing but it was well worth it. The House of All are strong but its not all about force, more about melody, beat and interesting. The only concession to the years were the lyrics written out and placed on a stand.

Rather than a Fall retread this really felt like a renaissance for the former Fall members, as illustrious their post Fall careers have been. More on the rise than fall.

The band were just sheer quality and pleasure as they ran through their perfectly formed set. Clearly enjoying the stage and the reaction achieved, House of All delivered and more, even though the rammed shed got too hot for my fat boy frame, which relegated me to the other space by the door and the iced soft drink for the final stages.

Thankfully, that meant I heard the music but missed much of the stupidity of the guy old enough to know better, stoned dancing, and bullying a woman stood innocently watching the band. We all like House Of All feller, we don’t need to watch you making an arse of yourself and gobbling off. Gives Manchester a bad name, idiots like that. I believe in karma.

It didn’t stop me marveling at the final song (and it was nice that House of All didn’t do that silly encore pretense thing), a mash up of Wet Leg’s Ur Mum and Can’s Uphill. Who else would think of that?

* words and music by tiggerligger.