Ironic
that the only 2 London dates on my "Spring Dance Card" should not
only come less than one week apart at the same Camden venue, but also both
feature Minneapolis natives! The ever-prolific US alt-rock legend (not a word I
use lightly, but one which fits utterly appropriately astride his broad
monolithic shoulders) Bob Mould dropped yet another album earlier this year,
his 5th in a productive last 10 years, and this one, "Sunshine Rock",
signalled a slight reframing of mood, if not of his trademark strident
guitar-driven sheet-metal buzzsaw popcore. Mooted as his happiest and most
upbeat for years, it's a glory-box of corking tuneage and buzzing hooky
choruses, and I for one couldn't wait to hear it "live". However, the
Electric Ballroom was the closest his short UK tour would get to the 'don (no
Bristol this time... Boo!), so I'd just have to suck it up and hit the beat
route oop the Smoke... again!
Another
early departure straight from work, but unfortunately a reverse effect to last
Friday; quick and easy run to Heston then a painful crawl into the Bush,
parking up later than desired and a hike away from the tube. Bah! No delays on
the tube this time, but because this was a later gig I arrived at 7.40, 40
minutes before openers Pabst were due on. Double Bah! When they eventually
arrived (a little earlier than scheduled, thankfully), they announced
themselves as, "from Berlin" (Bob's current home from home) declaring
this their biggest show yet, and opened with a sneering, funky drummer
beat-based psych-pop number recalling The Charlatans. Their subsequent set
delved into more 60's, swirly and swaggering proto-blues, featuring some neat
audience-fooling stop-starts and some drum-dominated, loose limbed effects
pedal workouts resembling Dark Star (remember them?). Some dirty grungy noise
thrown in the melting pot for good measure, and overall they left a favourable
if not lasting impression. They seemed psyched to be here, at least...!
The
place filled considerably and felt close to a sell-out; Bob clearly felt the
same as, after the lights dimmed from a spot lit red to strobe white, the band
took the stage to a kitsch German cabaret number and Bob mouthed,
"wow!" to himself before greeting the crowd with a, "how y'all
doing?", thence rampaging into opener "The War", the hooky
upbeat popcore typical of the new material. The quickfire opening salvo also
included forays into his old bands, with Sugar's seething terrace chant "A
Good Idea" being followed by a rampant "I Apologise". This was
all breath-taking stuff early doors, with Big Cat Bob prowling the stage and
delivering his vocals with his throaty Smilodon roar, backed up admirably by
his usual Superchunk rhythm section. However, the sound wasn't as loud and
overpowering as usual Bob gigs (don't get me wrong, this was actually welcome
as it revealed a number of nuances to the material, rather than burying them
under swathes of white noise), and the audience was disappointingly static,
despite a brilliant early "See A Little Light". However, rampant
newie "Sunny Love Song" saw a big bloke smash past me, then another,
then another... and by the tumbling thrill-ride of "Thirty Dozen
Roses" I was being buffeted about in a wild but joyous moshpit.
A
full band version of "Sinners And Their Repentances" seemed a little
incongruous compared to ths stripped back, folky “Workbook” version, but normal
service was soon restored with a frankly amazing "If I Can't Change Your
Mind", a soaring, joyful mosh singalong and easily my set highlight (Bob's
too, judging by the huge grin which crossed his snowy-stubbled features).
"This is fun, right?" he quipped before a triad of Husker Du numbers
to close the set perfectly, culminating in a brilliant, air-punching "New
Day Rising", by which time I'd grabbed some barrier and was screaming the
hook back at bassist Jason Narducy for all I was worth.
A
poignant moment opened the encore, as Bob, solo, delivered a heart-breaking
cover of Grant Hart's "Never Talking To You Again" (Hart, Bob’s
bandmate in Husker Du being sadly lost some 18 months ago), before the
irresistible hook of "Makes No Sense At All" closed out a supreme 1
1/2 hours rock, Bob taking centre stage and basking in the deserved applause
afterwards, like a king surveying his domain. Quite right too!
Quick
list then I was off and running, or so I thought; back to the car and out of
London in short order, but then a sodden M4, a lengthy and confusing diversion
around the M25 and A4 in Slough, and 16 miles of 50mph roadworks (!) saw me get
home at a red-eyed 1.15. Bah! Not many I'd grit my teeth and do that journey
for, especially on a school night, but on tonight’s form, the legend that is
Bob Mould is firmly on that list!
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