On entering District, one of the many ex-warehouse / factory venues in Liverpool’s Baltic Quarter, it appears that someone had gone overboard with the dry ice machine, so we take a mercy dash to the beer garden via the bar to save ourselves choking. Its such a small venue that even a minimal crowd feels like a party and as soon as we go back in, support Gans are kicking off and within seconds there is an atmosphere. The first pound of the drum is like being woken by a bucket of cold water and the following 20 minutes is a relentless, deafening wall of sound. Looking far too young for this extreme level of classic hard rock, Euan Woodman and Thomas Rhodes own the space. My research tells me that lyrically the band have much to say but so beautifully distorted is the sound, I can only imagin...