Thursday 6 December 2018

1,116 NOTHING, Suburban Living, Bristol Fleece, Wednesday 5th December 2018


Back to The Fleece for two in two nights, this one promising to be a little different, though no less raucous... after grizzled alt-rock veterans Buffalo Tom last night, here's relative pups, Philly's excellent Nothing, back in Bristol a couple of years after their ear-splitting Start The Bus gig (gig 1,002). This time sees them promoting new album "Dance On The Blacktop", apparently a lyrical catharsis for mainman and indie rock student Domenic Palermo after his (fairly) recent wrongful incarceration, but a collection which sonically sees them evolve their sound away from the harsh, wall-of-noise grungy dynamics which occasionally featured on previous effort “Tired Of Tomorrow” and almost go full-on shoegaze, with layers of shimmering guitars and submerged, mumbled vocals aplenty. Nothing on it to match the immediacy of the wonderful "Vertigo Flowers", but repeated listens have as ever been rewarded with hidden depths, so anticipation was still high!

Off at 7 for a much dryer drive down, parking up at 8 and hitting the venue, to be greeted with the odd sight of tables and stools set up midway between stage and back wall/soundman Rich Munday's mixing desk. Expecting a quiet one then, at least in terms of attendance...! No time to ponder this though, as support Suburban Living were on in short order. Another Philly lot, they immediately impressed with opener "Faded", a dark, gloomy and morose little post-punk rocker with shimmering and resonant guitar effects. Second number "Once/ Twice" saw them channelling their inner Cure-heads, with a taut and delightful gallop strongly recalling Smith’s lot’s classic "Just Like Heaven", and subsequent numbers hit a distinctly 80's vibe, the slower-burn "Lovely" seemingly soundtracking that moment in a John Hughes movie where Judd Nelson's just been dumped by some girl...! More textural moments too to supplement the 80’s Tears For Fears-esque feel, as well as a clattering jangle-fest in "Fit In", which recalled current faves Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever. Overall, absolutely splendid stuff from a very promising new name indeed...

Good guys too... chatted with bassist Kyle, who'd handed me his list, and who also turned out to be the son of original Buzzcocks bassist Steve Garvey! Musical talent clearly runs in the family, then... Also chatted rock and baseball with vocalist Wesley Bunch, a knowledgeable and personable chap who was excited for his band's pending Manchester gig ("all my favourite bands come from there!"), maybe less so at the prospect of Bryce Harper signing for The Phillies...

A surreal moment as I took a quick loo break, just as all of Nothing invaded the gents, Palermo blaring, "OK where's the cocaine?!" I think it's more cider here, guys... Back on the barrier as Nothing took a murky, smoke-shrouded stage just after 9, a haunting, elegiac riff from guitarist Brendan over a taped radio announcement weaving an eerie atmosphere. "Zero Day" kicked off the set proper, answering once and for all the eternal question as to what a shuddering grunge/shoegaze Mamas And Papas would sound like...! Pale Saints-style textural guitar reverb knitted the early numbers together, swathes of heavy yet sparkling riffery submerging Domenic's vocals during the grumbling growl of "B&E" and more driving upbeat "Curse Of The Sun". Next up, "You Wind Me Up" was an early highlight, the smooth, dream-pop best number on their new CD, featuring a delicious octave jump for the final chorus.

"Our booking agent booked 11 shows in England! Fuck!" a drawling Domenic (possibly a little worse for wear too?) mock-complained, one of his (few) remarks tonight that made sense... no matter, the rock made sense for him, from the "Creep"-like murky and mournful "Us/We/Are", the thrilling psych-shoegazey rocker of a blistering "Vertigo Flowers", the brilliant high watermark of their canon,  and the stretched, elegiac "Carpenter's Son". Intriguing, inventive stuff overall, culminating in a shuddering feedback loop at the end of lengthy and melancholy final number "Hope".

No encore, but a list after a lengthy wait (and puzzling chat with the roadie), then farewells to the affable Suburban Living boys before a much easier (and earlier!) drive home. Anticipation rewarded, then, after another noisy yet intriguing Nothing gig... ignore that (splendid) name, they're actually something!

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