1,323 JOHNNY MARR, Gaz Coombes, Bristol O2 Academy, Wednesday 10th April 2024

 

Well, wasn’t this just a thing of utter joy and wonder…

I feel a little ashamed that it took me until last year’s stellar single “Somewhere” to get on board with Johnny Marr’s solo works; I loved iconic 80’s jangle-indie band The Smiths whilst never ascribing to the hero-worship of their admittedly charismatic lead singer Morrissey, finding him dismissive and arrogant at the time, and quite distasteful in his utterances since (and if Simon Fletcher’s definitive “A Light That Never Goes Out” Smiths biog is anything to go by, it seems bandmate, co-songwriter and wingman Marr put up with a lot of his shit back then too…), so I’d largely blanked on Mozzer’s solo career since the Smiths’ dissolution in 1987. Marr, however, had gone a different route, forming chart-friendly synth duo Electronic with New Order’s Bernard Sumner, then becoming somewhat of a luxury gun-for-hire with the likes of The Pretenders, Modest Mouse and The Cribs. So when he finally turned his hand to a solo career, some dozen years or so, it barely registered on my radar. My mistake. “Somewhere” is a beautifully crafted slice of classic, effortlessly melodic and hooky indie pop, referencing Marr’s past but sounding very modern at the same time. I bought the accompanying “Spirit Power” compilation of his recent solo works and loved it, which honestly, given my love for The Smiths but not their singer, made perfect sense.

So the other thing to fall into place for me would be a “live” gig, of course… happily, Marr announced a Spring 2024 “Spirit Power” tour outside of my knee op window, so I gleefully booked myself a ticket, the only surprise being I couldn’t find anyone else interested! So, flying solo, I set off early down a drizzly M4, hitting the already ample O2 priority queue 20 minutes before doors, greeting a passing Martin Thompson on his way in, then bagsying a second-row spot, house right, on entry. With barriers all taken, my knee is going to suffer tonight, so good thing I chucked some painkillers down before leaving… not long to wait, though, as support Gaz Coombes took the stage at 7.45 with his 6-piece band, including a saxophonist! I’d last seen former Supergrass mainman Coombes marking time in his Hot Rats project on the Foo Fighters undercard (gig 824), so was happy to report that tonight was infinitely better; “Salamander” was an eminently serviceable slice of soaring indie pop for starters, then “Don’t Say It’s Over” had a more melodic hazy 70’s Laurel Canyon vibe, setting the tone for the rest of the set. A little bit country, a little bit down and dirty bluesy (particularly set highlight “Deep Pockets”, a dark and swampy Doors “La Woman” clone), and occasionally quite lovely (the middle-8 break of “Turn The Card Around”, and “The Girl Who Fell To Earth”, a touching ballad), this set was replete with quality songwriting, which should be a given for Coombes, but was still a pleasant surprise! Clearly overjoyed at this support slot as well (calling opening for Marr a “privilege and honour” from the outset), his accomplished performance gave the impression of a man who’d rediscovered his mojo, and quite likely another indie icon I need to catch up with.

I hazarded a comfort break (partly also to stop the knee from seizing up, a la Nick Parker’s gig recently), but was back in place by 9, as an air-raid siren and spotlight combo served as walk-on accompaniment for Marr and the band. Opener “Sensory Street” was an enjoyable, swaggering stomp with a synth blare hook, but was swept away by the “Metal Guru” glam strut of Smiths classic “Panic”, next up, Marr’s middle-8 riff being cheered to the rafters before the joyous and extended “hang the DJ!” singalong outro. “Bristol, eh?” deadpanned Marr, “last time we were here was 2018; [that was] a rocking night, so no pressure then!”

Coombes was right; this was a privilege and honour to be in the presence of a true rock icon tonight, but one not resting on any past glories, instead delivering a consummate, virtuoso performance. Not necessarily a natural singer, with a high register, more understated vocal delivery recalling his former Electronic bandmate Sumner, he was however a natural star, confident and urbane onstage, and of course an utter master craftsman on the guitar – it was telling that whenever he stepped away from the mic to deliver one of his trademark intricate, undulating and utterly mellifluous guitar riffs, mobile phones sprung up like sunflowers to record those moments. And, replete with Smiths numbers this set might have been, but his own material largely stood pat with them; an early “Spirit, Power and Soul” was powered along by an ascending synth riff recalling Electrafixion’s classic “Zephyr” into the soaring hook, and after the subsequent, joyous “This Charming Man”, Marr quipped, “here’s a new one; don’t worry, it’s not shit!”, then delivering a stunning, stripped back and almost symphonic “Somewhere”. Just gorgeous and quite possibly my highlight of a night crammed with many. 

After the reverential singalong to a heartbreaking and extended “Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want”, rendered largely acoustically, Marr invited Coombes back onstage to duet on “Stop Me If You Think You’ve Heard This One Before”, the former Supergrass man clearly in fantasy band camp for this. The melodic riff of “Bigmouth Strikes Again” was totally joyous, Marr then lowering his voice an octave for the vocal to the dark, jagged rhythm of “How Soon Is Now”. “Easy Money”’ s swaggering repetitive hook was stupidly catchy, before Marr rounded off a stellar set with Electronic’s “Getting Away With It”, the upbeat synth pop combining with the disco ball twinkle to provide a magical snowglobe effect. 

“Well, this has been quite a nice way to spend a… night; oh yeh, Wednesday…” Marr deadpanned before the inevitable nightcap of “There Is A Light That Never Goes Out”, the stripped back, lengthy and inclusive communal final choral singalong being a totally apposite finale for an utterly stellar show, and reminding me of Hooky at “Shiiine On”, doing the same for the equally revered “Love Will Tear Us Apart”. Johnny at “Shiiine On” one day? Ooh, that’d be an idea… I joined the baying hordes at the front for a list, more in hope than expectation, so was gratified when the roadie made a point of thrusting the guitarist’s one towards me, as I was the only bloke saying “please”! Loaded up with merch too, chatting to the lady who’d been dancing next to me during the set, then managed to limp up the hill to the car park for a swift drive back to the ‘don. As I said, this was an utterly joyful performance from the man, and will likely loom large in my “Best Gig of 2024” list. I’m now totally back on board with Johnny fuckin Marr!

1,322 GAZ BROOKFIELD, Mischa Weston-Green, Salisbury Winchester Gate Beer Garden (matinee), Saturday 6th April 2024

 

When the girls are away, then the boys will gig…! My missus had long earmarked this afternoon for a Bristol theatre trip with the daughter of the house, so when Logan’s and my own “most-seen” live act, “The Bard of Purton” himself, West Country travelling folk/ punk land pirate ruffian Gaz Brookfield, announced a matinee beer garden show at Salisbury bolt-hole The Winchester Gate, suddenly our afternoon looked a bit different than the usual Saturday afternoon vegging on the sofa (usually post-gym morning, to be fair…) watching the footy results. No sir, some acoustic Gaz shenanigans now await!

So we set off just after 12.30, a little later than planned as Logan was feeling a little worse for wear (!) and was slow getting up… happily he revived on the winding journey through Savernake to old Sarum, so was in good form as we arrived, dumping the motor in a nearby cash-only car park which, as we had no cash, required a fiddly app download! Gained entry into this 2-tier beer garden which reminded me of Southampton Hobbit’s sprawling back yard, then back into the pub for drinks, queueing up behind Gaz and Logan having a chat with him about motorbikes and stuff. Support Mischa Weston-Green had already started, so we took a watching brief at the top of the steps on the fringes of the open upper tier (all the benches were taken). A solo acoustic guy, as expected, his material had definite Jamaican/ reggae leanings, both in the rhythm and song structure and in Mischa’s vocal delivery. A mid-set “Stop, Drop, Roll” was punkier, and apparently co-opted by Extinction Rebellion as their theme, and my highlight was the frantic closer about his favourite bands whilst growing up; shame the track was way better than the bloody awful bands (Queen, RATM, RHCP, Guns’n’Roses) it namechecked (!), and overall I was a bit ambivalent about his set. Nice he’s trying something other than the usual punk-tinged acoustic folky stuff, but I’ve never been a fan of reggae anyway, and the material largely didn’t make much of an impression on me either… 

We ventured down to the bottom tier, covered gazebo-like, and eyed up a couple of unoccupied seats by the merch desk to the right of the corner stage. As Gaz kicked into his usual rambunctious form dead on 3 with a jovial and jocular “Solo Acoustic Guy”, no-one else had bagged them, so we did! An early, swayalong and rather ace actually “So Very Rock And Roll” saw the first beer garden singalong to the “la la la la” middle 8 refrain, and when Gaz then announced the release of an acoustic version of his recent “Morning Walking Club” album before an affirmative “Nuggets”, the dog companion of an old bloke in marker-penned hi-viz gear (more on him later) started barking. Everyone’s a critic…! 

Having seen Gaz a couple of times at the end of last year, much of the newer numbers in the set and the explanations for same were recently familiar, although it was nice to hear Gaz’ story about “Time Team” again before a poignant “Arborglyph”, particularly the addendum that Gaz is now appearing on “TT” in May! “I’m taking my metal detector and I’ll find absolutely nothing…!” he quipped… However my particular favourites of the early set were the “path less trodden” numbers, such as a rare, relaxed “Pen To Paper”, and the splendid “Cornish Fishing Town”, played by Gaz “in the round”, standing and rotating (“I’m the lazy Susan of folk!”) on the wall separating the 2 beer garden levels, and using a fretted dulcimer that a sponsor had bought him, in exchange for writing a song in 24 hours using it! The band coming-of-age paean “Hook Village Hall” was another highlight, particularly as Dave, one of the protagonists of the song, was present this afternoon, Gaz revealing he had indeed nicked a drumbeat from ska punkers [spunge]!

By now we’d been joined by the old bloke with the dog, who proceeded to rifle through Gaz’ CD box, which made me a little awkward… do I stop him, or what? Luckily the onlooking Gaz didn’t seem too perturbed, although the final few numbers were played in a bit of a gallop; the more familiar likes of “Be The Bigger Man”, a brilliant “Gunner Haines”, an acerbic “I’ve Paid My Money” (“it’s not about you guys!”), the “arrrr!”-inducing “Land Pirates Life” and a totally apt and inclusive singalong to “West Country Song” rounding off a fine set, and a perfect accompaniment to a lazy beer garden afternoon.

Happily, the old bloke paid for the pile of CDs he’d accumulated, and I grabbed a new tee and a handshake from Gaz at the merch stand, before we set off, home via the chippy for tea. Nice one Gaz; we’ll see you later in the year for the usual Hop and Fleece full band double-header!

1,321 RIDE, Bristol Rough Trade Records, Wednesday 3rd April 2024

 

Not mine, unfortunately, kudos to occasional gig buddy Alfie for swiping the mixing desk list!

Fair play to Ride; they’re not just resting on the laurels of their lauded shoegaze/ neo Britpop past… This iconic reformed 90’s band, a couple of years removed from touring the Covid-delayed 30^th Anniversary of their classic and genre-defining debut album, 1990’s “Nowhere” (a tour I caught in Bristol for a stunning performance, gig 1,221), announced plans for a new album, their third such since their 2015 reunion. Snatches of said album “Interplay” sounded very promising indeed, a definite upbeat groove underpinning their shimmering yet muscular guitar sound, so I pre-ordered a copy of the album, plus tix for their Autumn tour (having to shlep it down to Portsmouth for that one, as I’d already made plans for their Bristol date). However, this then came up… I was rather hoping they’d do a Rough Trade in-store album release tour whilst not counting on it, but booked as soon as it was announced, spreading the word to like-minded friends in the process. Ride at close quarters, then a meet and greet? Yes please; particularly as there’s a burning question I’d been meaning to ask them if I ever got the chance…

So I picked Rich May up, spending a longer than anticipated (and cross-country!) drive down to Brizzle catching up – been awhile! Met up with friends Matt and newly-domiciled Bristolian Sarah, already there in this splendid small back-room venue. Whiled away the time as the room filled up – a sold-out one this, not surprisingly… Ride took the stage spot on at 7.30, the front row of vocalist/ guitarists Andy Bell and Mark Gardener, plus bassist Steve Queralt taking seats line abreast, Andy immediately bigging up the album; “last we checked we’re no. 2 [in the album charts], beaten only by Beyonce; that’s a strange situation!” 

Thereafter we were treated to a shining 40-minute acoustic vignette, understandably concentrating on the new album material, and revealing Ride are hitting a rich vein of songwriting form, the “Interplay” material on show tonight largely standing pat with the best of their post-reunion releases. Opener “Peace Sign” was powered by a tough beat from drummer Laurence Colbert and featured an impressive languid dual vocal hook interplay (sic) from Andy and Mark; “Last Frontier”’s backbeat drum opening ceded to a New Order-esque ascending bass underpinning a melancholy verse and beautifully harmonic chorus; and “Monaco” was a robust metronomic rocker even in this format. Between numbers, Ride again demonstrated they’re in fine fooling, those turbulent Britpop days thankfully long gone, with some fun banter, Andy keeping the anti-Beyonce vibe going, and Mark responding to a punter asking about a Welsh gig with, “Andy’s from Wales and if he goes back, he’ll be in trouble!”

An unexpected “Vapour Trail”, stripped back and delicately delivered, was utterly gorgeous, Mark then announcing, “let’s keep the oldies flowing for the nostalgia element in the room!” with a bouncy, strumalong and almost Beatles-esque “OX4”. Finally, “Last Night I Went Somewhere To Dream” reluctantly ended proceedings, a menacing, almost Burundi drumbeat recalling Echo And The Bunnymen’s “Zimbo” flowing into a lighter, pastoral chorus. Great way to end an understated but warm and shining set. 

Signing sesh afterwards, so after a wait we got albums signed and pics taken, plus I brought my Gigbook Volume 2, featuring the NME “On” piece from January 1990 which introduced me to Ride, along for the boys to sign, Laurence showing particular interest in my memorabilia which was nice. I also got to ask that question – when are they going to play “Shiiine On”? Mark murmured, “yeah we should play there”, my rather gushing reply of, “you totally should, you’d utterly smash it,” being cut across by Andy replying, “you can’t just turn up you know, you have to be asked!” So, come on Shiiine On, get asking…!

Left the venue with Oxonian Mark giving me some friendly gyp for my Swindon Town FC allegiances (!), before farewells to Matt and Sarah, and a drizzly yet quicker drive home, dropping Rich off then home via Jimmy’s for late kebab tea. So maybe they’re not at Shiiine On this year (unless they’re all phenomenal poker players!), but on this form, that aforementioned Ride Portsmouth gig this September should be a “live” highlight of the Autumn…

1,320 FLO AND THE ESCAPE LANE, Sienna Wileman, Swindon The Tuppenny, Thursday 28th March 2024

 

“Have you got Flo’s album yet?” I was asked by a fellow front-row punter at Nick Parker’s excellent Winchester gig last Saturday (gig 1,319), to which I had to admit, nope, I had yet to avail myself of the debut release by Nick’s daughter, burgeoning songstress and singer-songwriter Flo Parker Bombosch. Having heard some intriguing comments about said disc – less overtly wordy or jolly than the old man’s stuff, and more in an introspective, contemplative indie folk vein – I’d been meaning to check it out anyway, so made another mental note to order it when I got paid at the end of the month. However, aimlessly scrolling Facebook earlier this afternoon accelerated that deadline, as I stumbled across a Flo gig; tonight, at The Tuppenny as part of their regular acoustic Thursday Night Music Club series, no less!

So plans were hastily made, necessitating my wife’s return from a theatre afternoon in Bristol to allow a curious Logan and myself to head up the hill about 8.30, wandering in the ‘Tupp as and standing by the door, house left, as opener Sienna Wileman was still in the early stages of her set. A young songstress herself, she resembled Bernard Black’s “Summer girl” from “Black Books” and, backed up by her dad on guitar, a decent line in melodic, rootsy folky tuneage, with an upbeat “Make Memories” and a melancholic “3 a.m. Thoughts” notable numbers. Possessor also of a fair set of pipes, apparently, as a mid-set “Petals” featured a strident middle-8 build powered by some equally overt vocals from Sienna, prompting Logan to take a step back!

John Hare, the talented multi-instrumentalist from Nick’s False Alarms and evidently doing Parker double-shift duty as a member of Flo’s Escape Lane, recognised us as the reprobates who’d bothered him for a set-list last Saturday (!) and popped over for a brief chat, also promising us his and Flo’s front row seats when they were due to set up! We happily took them up on their offer, grabbing said spot at the end of Sienna’s set and chatting between sets with promoter Ed, doing mixing desk duties to our right. Flo, John and guitarist Nick, the acoustic iteration of the 5-piece full-band Escape Lane, then eased into opener “Perfection”, a melancholic stripped-back number which for me had tinges of R.E.M.’s “Drive”. “Erased”, another delicate slice of pastoral melancholy which featured a circular keyboard refrain from John recalling Sigur Ros’ “Hippipola”, followed in short order, and “Magpie” featured some lovely 3-part harmonies from the band. 

The set was largely drawn from Flo’s album, which, fleshed out by a full band production, should really sound like a Madder Rose or a Sundays, wistful slow-burn yet intelligently crafted Americana folk clashing with introspective, understated and delicate indie; so, happily, pretty much as advertised! And Flo’s voice is lovely, a clear lilting innocent Mary Lorson-like tone giving extra credence to that Madder Rose comparison (for me, at least), and shown to its best effect at close quarters such as the Tupp. Nice line in covers too; 4 thrown in tonight to flesh out the set to 13 songs, including a heartfelt cover of Del Amitri’s “Move Away Jimmy Blue” (which I saw the Dels do themselves, way back in 1987 – gig 91! – before our paths diverged) and a totally apposite Death Cab For Cutie number, the understated heartbreak of “Tiny Vessels”, Flo in particular gushing about seeing DCFC in August at All Points East…

The pastoral “High Horse” closed out a delightful little set, a fine introduction to Flo’s music and one which will definitely prompt me to catch the full band in future. Bought the album (of course), then had a chat with Flo and John about my Del Amitri-bothering 80’s past, before quick farewells to sundry folks (including Ben Sydes, a spectator tonight) and a swift drive home before Logan’s kebab got cold! Quite a different “live” experience from last Saturday, then, but good to see Flo demonstrating that her dad’s not got the monopoly on talent and strong songwriting in the Parker family!

1,319 NICK PARKER AND THE FALSE ALARMS, Siobhan and The Sunset Haze, The Lost Post, Winchester The Railway Inn, Saturday 23rd March 2024

 

If Nick Parker had half the voracious “live” work ethic as his former Company Of Thieves bandmate Gaz Brookfield, he’d likely be right up there atop my “most seen” list with the Bard of Purton; as it is, tonight represents the 9^th time we’ve crossed paths, which at least elevates him to 40-somethingth on said list… This affable and talented tunesmith surprised us all by slipping out a new original album at the end of last year in “Ow Denny Rayne and the Jistal Parts”, his first such since 2017 and once again, a masterpiece of beautifully crafted, varied and accomplished indie-folk with the Parker trademarks of warm humour, intricately observational Dury/ Squeeze-esque lyricism and easy melodic earworm hooks. And in “Living Again”, a gem of a song, for me likely his best yet and one which firmly encapsulated my mood at the end of 2023, following a couple of turbulent years. Time to fall in love with living again, indeed!

And part of this process would of course be a Nick Parker gig, particularly with his equally accomplished band The False Alarms. The “Nick Parker should probably tour tour” only featured a smattering of full band gigs, however, a couple too early for me to drive to due to my knee op, and the Winchester Railway Inn Saturday gig featuring an 18+ caveat. Boo! However, a word in the ear of accommodating promoter Jack got Logan in (thanks Jack!), so we hit the road for a circuitous cross-country drive down, dumping the motor in the station car park after a bit of confusion and enjoying some pre-gig nosh in Turtle Bay in town. Back to the evocative old pub to join the queue to get into the small, black-painted side venue; with most tickets sold, this one might get sweaty… Openers The Lost Post were on at 8.15; a 3 piece led by a tall cowboy-hatted vocalist, they plied a decent trade in dark Spaghetti Western or Coen Brothers soundtrack murder ballads, recalling (to my ears at least) the likes of Violent Femmes, the baroque atmospherics of 60’s band Love and even Neutral Milk Hotel in parts. Intriguing and a decent start. 

Better was to come however in main support Siobhan and The Sunset Haze, a 5-piece led by the aforementioned Siobhan, a tiny but chatty hippie chick who led her charges onstage, lamenting her recent absence from gigging due to a broken foot (I know the feeling, dear…). She exhorted us all to dance to their bright, fiddly diddly hoedown opener, but “Raise Your Glass”, second number in, was much more in my wheelhouse, an unexpected power-chord propelled punky emo stomper with a soaring hook belted out by the vocalist. Impressive. The subsequent set was enjoyably varied too, with “Drunken Carnival” a robust indie folk banger with a stream-of-consciousness chorus, and another “angry song” following “Lilies”, an understated ballad. “Witching Hour” answered the burning question as to what an 80’s goth Steeleye Span would sound like (!), and overall, this young band left a very favourable impression indeed… 

We kept our places down the front, despite working up a sweat in this now-packed little room just by standing there! Nick greeted us on his way onstage to set up, and I chatted briefly about what “Living Again” meant to me. In short order, however, he and the band were ready to go, kicking off at 9.30 with the beautiful lyrical detail and climactic musical build of “Departures”, dedicated, rather tongue in cheek, to “anyone who’s flown here today…”! Thereafter we were treated to a mammoth 1 hour 50 set (!) encompassing the breadth of Nick’s oeuvre, delivered with warmth and open heartedness by a gregarious, engaging (and newly svelte!) performer, ably backed by his brilliantly virtuoso team of musicians, particularly the two instrument-swapping Johns, Messrs’ Leonard and Hare, who varied between tin whistle, squeezebox, banjo and keys, often within the same song! “Maison D’Etre” was preceded by Nick commenting on Logan’s Pit Viper sunglasses, then referencing the pitch of the recent London crowd, who sang louder than his monitors and came across like, “a wedding party singing “Take On Me”!” “Don’t Play The Kerryman” was a delightful drinking song swayalong, but the subsequent “Living Again” was my set highlight, stark, emotive and epic in equal measure, including a subtle nod to me from Nick. Nice one – thanks Nick.

 “After All”, the, “angry teenager song I wrote in 1994!” recalled Sugar’s “If I Can’t Change Your Mind” in its’ breathless undulating groove; Nick’s niece joined him onstage for a touching duet to “Guess I’ll Never Know”; and late newie “Dolly Parton” had tinges of “Sgt. Pepper” Beatles off-kilter psych. Nick then eschewed the encore malarkey (“we’ve all got homes to go to – actually we’re going out out tonight!”), delivering a solo nostalgic “Half Of The Moon” before the inevitable and insanely jolly “Es Tut Mir Leid” and a frantic instrumental hoedown, the discordant opening and dramatic sweep of “Half A Song For Suzy” then closing out proceedings. Without a barrier to lean on, my knee had been barking at me for much of the last hour, but I’m glad I stuck it out, although we left promptly after a brief merch desk chat with Siobhan and fond farewells from the Star of the Show, limping down to the car park for a swift drive home. Great gig, possibly the best I’ve seen from Nick and Co. Here’s hoping for plenty more in future!

1,318 THE PIXIES, The Pale White, London O2 Kentish Town Forum, Saturday 16th March 2024

 

Barely 2 months after delivering one of their most stellar performances at Cardiff Arena last March (gig1,270), veteran Boston sleazoid alt-rock pioneers The Pixies announced another slew of UK dates… and this time, unusually, they told everyone what they were going to play! Three sets of 3-night stands across the UK, including a first London date on a Saturday, promising full run-throughs of their lesser-known but still seminal original 4^th and 5^th albums (presuming you’re counting “Come On Pilgrim” as album 1, which I am), “Bossanova” and “Trompe Le Monde”. Excellent! I immediately booked tix for nascent Pixies devotee Logan and myself for said Saturday, anticipating a boys’ day out oop the Smoke. However, my knee op not only put a potential spanner in those works, but also gave me a goal – to be fit to drive to this one, just 7 weeks after the op! Thankfully my recovery was swift, and I got the go-ahead from the physio on Wednesday to get back to normal activities. So, an afternoon oop the Smoke, at least…

 We left at 12.30, suffering M4 closures which shipped us up at our booked parking spot just round the corner from the venue at 3.30, then found Kentish Town tube was shut till Summer, necessitating a walk down to Camden! Shopping and street vendor tea at Camden Lock later, we hit the O2 Priority queue 45 minutes before doors, grabbing a barrier spot house left on entry; the knee had held up well from the drive and unexpected hike to Camden, but I didn’t want to take any chances! Chatted to fellow front row punters – including a similar veteran set-list grabber who’d read my blog! – before openers The Pale White, dead on 8. “Panic Attack” their second number in, was a muscular and hard-edged rocker, and an eerie mid-set “Nostradamus” featured some Interpol-esque guitar riffs, but otherwise there was little to commend their average at best, and plodding at worst, post-grungy set. Well, apart from the drummer’s antics, that is…

 The place filled to capacity during the interval; no surprise really as this date was sold out in a day or so, and represented probably the smallest venue I’ve ever seen The Pixies, certainly the smallest since their 2003 reunion… Roadies laid down multi-page set-lists (surprise, surprise!) and I hazarded an interval loo trip, squeezing through the crammed masses back to our barrier spot just as Black Francis led the troops (including brand-new and very tall bassist Emma Richardson) onstage to a suitably eerie backing track. And, surprise, surprise again, he spoke to us! Giving us a heads-up on tonight’s performance and the genesis behind tonight’s opening song (“the story began in 1893…!”), Francis then led us headlong into the spaghetti Western surf-punk instrumental “Cecilia Ann”, kicking off the “Bossanova” run-through. Unfortunately, the guitars sounded a little off initially, somewhat discordant and fighting against the mix, with Joey Santiago stamping furiously on various pedals from his copious floor bank in front of us to rectify matters. However, by the tremendous, rampant “Allison”, things sounded completely sorted, and thereafter Pixies were flying.

Both “Bossanova” and “Trompe Le Monde” are very varied and almost scattergun stylistically and tonally, the former the smoother, more melodic, almost hazily dreampop, and the latter more abrasive, harsher and grungier. One would therefore expect the set, particularly the lesser played tracks, to feel a little uneven at times. However, after the guitar mix-affected first section, there were very few lowlights and actually a tumbling cascade of highs; “Hang Wire” was an excellent sinister goth march (preceded by Francis announcing, rather macabrely, “I lost a tooth or two during the pandemic and saved them so I could put them in my guitar!”), “Stormy Weather” was a fantastic anthemic change-of-pace soaring singalong and the best of the “Bossanova” tracks for me, and after a slightly restrained “Planet Of Sound”, “Alec Eiffel” was a frenzied slasher movie of a track, really kicking the “TLM” rendition into gear. However, the subsequent “Head On” eclipsed even that; Francis gave props to the Reid brothers before launching into a quite brilliant galloping rendition of their Jesus And Mary Chain surf-punk classic, easily my highlight of the night. Surf punk perfection!

 The languid verse and fierce college roar of “UMass”, the gabbled, stream-of-consciousness vocals of “Subbacultcha” and the old school Pixies death march of “Motorway To Roswell” (Francis admitting, “thank you for the appropriation [on this song], we don’t have motorways!”) were other “TLM” highlights, before the albums run-through concluded and time allowed for an eerie “Slow Wave Of Mutilation”, an equally slowed down “Nimrod’s Son” (still featuring the audience baying back the call and response “Son of a mother-fucker!!!” hook), and a double false start to eventual closer, the poppy light touch of “Here Comes Your Man”, before the band as usual took in a lengthy and thoroughly deserved ovation. No lists (I tried; the head roadie said, “we’re saving the planet by reusing them!” which for the first night of 3 at the same venue seemed fair enough…), so Logan (who’d been in the mosh since 3^rd number “Velouria”) and I headed off promptly, a much easier drive home seeing us back in the ‘don before 1. I have to confess it did feel a little weird knowing what The Pixies were going to play next, but great to hear them go off the beaten track and spotlight their lesser-known works. And “Head On” was worth the admission price alone. So once again, all hail The Pixies!

1,317 STIFF LITTLE FINGERS, Glen Matlock, Bristol O2 Academy, Wednesday 13th March 2024

 

After a year’s pause, it’s Stiff Little Fingers’ “Mad March to Bristol” time again! I actually gave this one a very very late call indeed, only booking tix at the end of February as there was a slight possibility that my recovery from my recent knee replacement op might be sufficiently swift to allow me to drive up to Birmingham for the clashing Echo and the Bunnymen gig. I’m recovering quickly, but not that quickly, however, and not wishing to jeopardise my pre-set plans to drive to London this coming Saturday for The Pixies’ gig with Logan, I happily went for this alternative, joining “The Big Man” for an almost annual excursion of late – 16 times in 20 years we’d been to see these original anthemic politico-punks, and my 21^st time overall!

We were also joined by old mate Olly, Rich scooping him up from Covingham then fetching me at 7 p.m. for a breakneck hurtle down the M4, parking up after a little difficulty in Trenchard Level 7. Support Glen Matlock was already part-way through his set; punk rock royalty he may be (being the original bassist with The Sex Pistols – but you knew that already of course…), and in suave, “gor blimey guv,” good nick for his age too, but unfortunately the set, based mainly on his recent “Consequences Coming” release, was average journeyman fayre at best, lumpen pub rock at worst. “Which Side Are You On” was a decent rocker, but for me the subsequent cover of k.d. lang’s “Constant Craving”, whilst laudable (“it’s about making a better world,” argued Matlock) was dull and monotone, and Richard Hell’s “Blank Generation” fared little better. However, the unmistakeable guitar intro to arguably the Pistols’ best song “Pretty Vacant” rose head and shoulders above the set, even with the extended chantalong outro, and the descending intro hook of closer “Head On A Stick” was easily the best of the newies. Matlock left us with the cry of, “thanks, and don’t forget – Fuck The Tories!” which again endeared him to the crowd. I liked him; his set, not so much…

The place got much busier in our usual house left spot as, for some bizarre reason, they played Abba over the p.a. Bah! I greeted friend Martin in the photo pit just before the lights dropped… and Val Doonican’s “Walk Tall” rang out loudly on the p.a.! “If the band walk onstage to this, I’m booing them!” I threatened to Rich, but happily it finished and The Greatest Intro Music in Rock, the pounding drum and roof-raising “diddly-doo!” singalong of “Go For It” thankfully heralded Stiff Little Fingers onstage, the bald, rotund and imposing figure of bandleader Jake Burns greeting us with the usual, “y’allright?” before launching into an incendiary “Suspect Device”, followed by surprising oldie “State Of Emergency” and a fist-pumping “Fly The Flag”. Excellent start, at least…

Burns then announced tonight’s intent to switch up the set a little and play some more unfamiliar tracks, kicking off with the strident hook of newie and tour slogan “Hate Has No Home Here” (“if hate is our default position [when we disagree with someone] then we’re all totally fucked!”). As if to prove the point of this song, Burns then dealt with a disagreement in the mosh (“here’s an idea; one of you fuck off over there and one of you stay here!”) before a fine, undulating “Silver Lining” and frankly groovy “Just Fade Away”. “Roots Radicals” was a tremendous early set highlight as well (“time to murder another unsuspecting reggae classic,” deadpanned Burns by way of introduction), but (and I hate to say this, given that I totally agreed with the idea of shaking up the set, after, as I mentioned, seeing them 16 times in the last 20 years here!) a few of the lesser played numbers in the mid-set didn’t measure up for me, particularly “Love Of The Common People”, which dragged…

Time to claw it back, then, and “Strummerville” (preceded by a tribute from Burns to his hero and Clash leader Joe; “I never wanted to be him, I just wanted to conduct myself like him…”) raised the game; the double whammy of an apt “Nobody’s Hero” and the excellent if truncated “Tin Soldiers” maintained; then savage set closer “Gotta Getaway” was easily the highlight of the night, launching into gear with Burns’ cry of, “go on ya fuckers!” Encores of a swaying, skanking “Doesn’t Make It Alright” and the inevitable “Alternative Ulster” closed out a variable performance which actually was very worthwhile overall, and quite excellent when it really hit the heights. A swift exit and drive back got me home for 11.30. Fine night out overall in splendid company… I don’t know if Stiff Little Fingers have many more Mad Marches left in them, but if they do, then I guess we probably do as well…!

1,316 PETE WYLIE AND THE MIGHTY WAH!, Bristol Exchange, Friday 1st March 2024

 

Another one that required a bit of (relatively) last-minute intervention… I’d booked this one ages ago, relishing a rare opportunity to see one of my 80’s Liverpool post-punk “rockist” icons, the effervescent motormouth and haphazard musical genius that is Pete Wylie, tread the boards, particularly at such close quarters as Bristol’s excellent scuzzy little Exchange, and also apparently delivering a career spanning retrospective set in support of a new “Best Of” compilation. However, the proximity of my recent knee replacement surgery precluded me from being able to drive, I couldn’t find anyone else keen to join me, and by the time I’d sweet-talked my dear lady wife into both coming along and arranging sitting for the daughter of the house, the damn thing had sold out! Bah! Luckily, a pleading note on Pete’s Facebook page elicited a couple of favourable responses (including one from the man himself!), including a kind offer of a free spare ticket from a fellow punter. So, all systems go!

 An early departure to drop Jami off, and a trundle down into very foreboding dark skies nonetheless saw Rach and I park up opposite the venue in relatively dry conditions, meeting up with our saviour Emma (AKA Flo) and her brother-in-law Russ. Bought them both a drink (the least I could do, really…!) and enjoyed some gig chat before doors opened, and Rach and I grabbed a bit of wall bench, house left. My first post-op gig without crutches, but I’m still not sure about standing up for 2 hours! No support, so we watched the place fill up with old rockist musos – never mind Rachel, even I felt quite young in this crowd!

 The band wended their way through the crowd and took the stage just after 8, Pete on last, resplendent in gold patterned shirt, silver trousers and feathered steampunk hat, and looking like my equally rotund and grey-goateed old friend Paul Crowfoot these days. “That was horrible trying to get [through the crowd] to the stage; I almost had to touch people!” the man quipped, before thanking Johnny Thunders for writing, “the story of my life,” the poignant acoustic opener “You Can’t Put Your Arms Around A Memory”. The widescreen classic “Come Back” was next up, the build to the huge hook both soaring and strident, and bouncing, breathless oldie “Remember” followed in short order, Pete commenting (not for the last time), “the record company said this would be a massive hit – they were wrong!”

 This pretty much set the tone for the set; a startlingly quick 2 hours of Wylie and Wah! classics through the years, delivered by a competent if slightly restrained band (Pete rated them, anyway, praising then with, “I love this band – proof you can buy cheap and do okay!”) and Pete’s own authoritative tones, peppered with plenty of quickfire wit, chat and storytelling from a genuinely warm, stand-up level funny and maverick one-off. A taut, claustrophobic “Better Scream” was preceded by a story about its’ Sounds singles review; “Hope” was dedicated to our gig saviour (“this one’s for Flo – it’s called, “Fuck Off Flo”!”), and the excellent “Sinful” was followed by a story of Pete nicking a clock from the Top Rank club on the Clash tour to give to Clash guitarist Mick Jones for his birthday, during his last visit to Bristol! Some serious moments amongst the chat too; Pete sharing his experiences of his recent ADHD diagnosis with an understanding crowd, talking about volunteering at the food bank at The Florrie (Pete totally nailing it with his comment, “the best thing we can do is look out for each other; I have a saying; give a shit or be a shit!”), and saving some righteous anger for an old adversary, preceding the jolly, celebratory “The Day That Margaret Thatcher Dies” with, “this is a love song because I love good people and still hate her!”

 The slow-burn, sweeping stately melancholy of “Heart As Big As Liverpool”, my overall set highlight, was dedicated by Pete to his old friend and Radio DJ Janice Long, with a genuinely affecting story about their last conversation; the tense, galloping “7 Minutes To Midnight” was about as rocking as it got tonight; then, “the moment when you realise you could have just turned up now!” arrived, with inevitable set closer “The Story Of The Blues”, a top 3 hit when that actually meant something, and a fine way to end a celebration of a quite unique, charismatic and brilliant genius. Simply superb stuff from the man.

 Grabbed a copy of that afore-mentioned “Best Of” at the merch stand, then bade farewell to Emma and Russ before hitting the road for a drizzly drive home. Really glad we were able to make it for this one, so thanks again to Emma for the spare ticket… a great night out!

1,315 WINGS OF DESIRE, Hunny Buzz, Bristol Rough Trade Records, Wednesday 21st February 2024

 

Inheaven were one of my favourite bands of the mid-2010’s; bursting into my consciousness with a fully-formed debut album, incorporating elements of post-punk, shoegaze and wall-of-noise sleazoid rock into a fascinating, leather-clad and rose petal-strewn melting pot, they were also a fiercely ambitious lot, clearly going places in a hurry. I saw them 3 times in barely 8 months (gigs 1,043, 1,057 and 1,070) and was bolted in for the longhaul with them. That is, until a blood-splattered bouquet posted on Facebook with the epithet “RIP 2015-2018” heralded their demise… dammit! OK, fast forward 5 years or so, when I picked up on a deliriously metronomic track “Runnin’” by new name Wings Of Desire, downloaded that and their subsequent excellent synth-washed post-punk anthology album “Life Is Infinite”, and then looked up who they actually were, only to find WoD were effectively the 2-headed creative force behind Inheaven, namely vocalist James Taylor and his partner-in-crime, Swindon’s own Chloe Little! This duo having happily been restored to my listening habit, all I needed was a show to follow this up… 

Happily, a debut headlining tour was in the offing, and I brainwashed Tim into taking me along to the Bristol Rough Trade show, still being a few weeks away from being cleared to drive myself. I’d also organised some seats, and on arrival found they were right down the front of this splendid little back room, house left. Result! Chilled awhile as the hardy early comers trickled in out of the drizzly Tuesday evening, until openers Hunny Buzz took the stage at 8. Fronted by a vivacious female vocalist with a lilting, beguiling voice, they immediately impressed with a varied set of buoyant indie pop, incorporating a lot of familiar elements but never descending into obvious plagiarism. Opener “Chess Game”’s seductive backbeat built into a rousing choral hook, “Love Me Like You Used To” was a much more upbeat, careering Popguns-like old school indie banger with a “woah-oh” hook, and “Not Your Place” featured an almost Skids-like dark and robust opening riff, building into a C86 jangle-fest with a snarky, Coach Party-like chorus. A few little bumps in the road here and there (particularly from the drummer, who dropped his stick a couple of times, laudably resorting to playing with his hands!), but to be expected from this very young band, and a very promising set overall was concluded by their best number “Now I Can Get Over You”, a stream-of-consciousness verse vocal kicking into a big powerpop/Blondie hook. Nice work!

Wings Of Desire themselves took the stage dead on 9 after a short interval in front of a slightly disappointing but understandable turnout on this dank midweek evening, James centre stage, resplendent in olive and tweed, and Chloe, sporting outsized David Byrne jacket, sited behind a synth desk. Opener “Runnin’”, eased into life, the post-punk haunting swirl and synth-augmented mood immediately setting the tone for the set overall; where their forbears Inheaven were all about strident guitar licks and leather-clad rock, WoD evoke a dreamier, more ephemeral mood, keyboard-embellished but never dominated, and still notably post-punk tinged. In a nutshell, they’ve thrown away the first 2 Jesus And Mary Chain albums and replaced them with New Order’s opening double salvo…! 

“Be Here Now” was an early highlight, featuring a deadpan verse delivery from James almost recalling The Passage (!), the subsequent “Chance Of A Lifetime” was a slower burn with intertwining vocals from James and Chloe, and “A Million Other Suns” featured Interpol-like laconic atmospherics. “This is the longest set we’ve ever done!” announced the hitherto taciturn vocalist before “Perfect World”, their most Inheaven-esque number, the JAMC backbeat leading to a soaring surf punk hook with a droney, Velvets-like outro, then a later “Angels” was full-on Cocteaus dreampop, stately and elegiac, with a disaffected lead vocal from Chloe. A rather splendid actually set concluded with thanks from the band, and the pulsing intro to “001”, which built to a New Order “Ceremony”-esque final guitar crescendo to end (if I’m honest, not the first WoD number to do so tonight), at which point I leapt (hah!) up to grab James’ list.

 Quick reminisces with James and Chloe afterwards, recalling those Inheaven days and discussing their forthcoming Editors European support dates. Hit the road with Tim reflecting on a fine first showing. Like their forbears, Wings Of Desire’s influences are easy to spot, but once again they’re infusing them into an intriguing and haunting mix very much their own. Great to have James and Chloe back making meaningful music; perhaps Wings Of Desire will finally see them soar to the heights they deserve…!

1,314 B SYDES, Heartwork, Ed Poole, Swindon The Tuppenny, Thursday 15th February 2024

 

Continuing with my gig February, despite still needing crutches to get around out and about; this one promised to be an interesting night, an emo-leaning triple header of acoustic guitar acts for this week’s Tuppenny Thursday Music Club, headed by recent “live” favourite and now-Swindon local Ben Sydes! This was the second of a brief 3-date tour from this 3-headed emo hydra, ironically named the “we are laughing and we are very good friends tour (!)”, and I’d been corresponding with Ben recently on the subject of Spanish Love Songs (Ben going to their Bristol gig on the day of my knee op), promising him that if I was up on my feet, I’d get to this gig, even if that meant getting a taxi!

And so it proved; with my dear lady wife out in London, Logan and I booked a cab up the hill for my first such gig transport since I don’t even know, I’m guessing The Popguns at The Link back in 1992 (gig 212)! Arrived at 8 and bagsied a seat down the front, also catching up with Tupp luminaries Ed and Linda, Grant and Lisa, Nick and a visiting Mr. Gaz Brookfield! Chatted briefly with the star of the show as well, before settling in for opener, Scouser Ed Poole just after 8.30. After a couple of entertaining and frenetic openers, featuring some neat off-mic undulating vocals, Ed unfortunately hit some technical issues, requiring the help of Heartwork’s Dan O’Dell to sort out, which immediately jogged my memory as to when I’d seen Heartwork before; he’d been “Mr. Fixit” at Gaz’ 2022 Fleece Chrimbo do (gig 1,257), sorting out busted guitar strings during Ben’s opening set! Anyway, back to Ed; tech issues (mostly) sorted, the subsequent “Collapse” was a fast-paced, almost Woodentopsy acoustic rattler with a passionately delivered, dark chorus and descending hook; “Punchline” was by contrast stripped back and bleak; and finale “Knives” was my favourite of a well-delivered set, another galloper with a big yearning emo hook. Good start!

 The affable young Mr. O’Dell, AKA Heartwork, was next up… opener “Achilles Friend” was an intricately-picked paean to lost love, Dan quipping at the denouement, “we got through a whole song without something going wrong!” apparently not only in reference to Ed’s set, but also his own most recent appearance here, when he didn’t quite manage to complete 3 numbers! The angsty, octave straddling “Right Thing” featured a quick appearance from Ben, “Wreckage” (introduced with, “to pick things up, a song about divorce!”) was a duet with Mr. Poole, and strident closer “Party” a purging exorcism and essay on mental health, all being delivered with a witty, affable bonhomie often at odds with the dour, darker lyrical subject matter. Again, a fine set from Mr. Heartwork…

 

Old Ben Sydes (!) then took the stage for the headlining set just about 10, his unique soaring nasal quaver dovetailing in nicely with the droney riff of opener “5 Minutes”. An excellent, passionately delivered version of his best number, the soaring and lengthy pregnant pause-punctuated “Crutches” was next up, happily dedicated to my good self, so I gave my crutches a little wave to emphasise the point! “Good Times” was a fine singalong from the packed and engaged room, and before a discordant, off-kilter “All At Sea” Ben emphasised the “we are very good friends…” angle by mentioning, “we’ve been sat on my sofa all afternoon watching “Dolphin Bonk” on YouTube!” A work-in-progress newie, the lockdown hymn “Screaming Infidelities” (nicking a Dashboard Confessional title!) skipped a verse, but as I whispered to Ben at the end, “it’s a new number, we [the audience] don’t know any different!” “The Desperate Dance” (which also saw his 2 tour mates desperate dancing by the door!) was a final singalong, before Ben thanked us, “for coming out on a rainy Thursday to what is now my home town show!”, a frantic “Still In Saigon” with the usual dramatic riffery and lengthy final vocal note rounding off another entertaining showing.

 Hobbled around the venue bidding farewells to everyone while Logan predictably nipped to the kebab house next door (!), then Rach came to pick us up for a sodden trundle down the hill and home. A fine triple-header indeed!

1,313 BIG COUNTRY, Icicle Works (acoustic), Bristol O2 Academy, Friday 9th February 2024

 

Two weeks and two days after my long-awaited knee operation, and I’m already back on the gig trail! A bit mad, maybe, but I am, after all, me… In all honesty, however, this one was totally thanks to old friend and tonight’s gig buddy Rich; we’d booked this one, a 40^th (!) Anniversary Celebration of old “live” favourites and 80’s Celtic post-punk icons Big Country’s sophomore album, the imposing “Steeltown”, when tix went on sale last year, however the rescheduling of my knee op from late December to late January put my attendance in jeopardy. Rich, however, was having none of it; if I can get on my feet even with crutches, he said, he’d get me there; and he was as good as his word. Good man! 

So, I’d phoned the venue to arrange seating and early entry, and Rich, along with friend Nikki, picked me up in ample time to hit the venue at 6.20, even given Friday night Bristol traffic! He dropped me off outside the venue and went off to park the car, then we had a swift drink in the Hatchet before queueing up, thence grabbing three of the dozen or so bar stools located in the main bar area, immediately behind the mixing desk and affording an excellent view. Not the comfiest of seats, in all honesty, but at least I’m up off my feet! Old Brunel/ Level 3 mates Steffen and Adam unexpectedly walked in, so we had a nice chat and catch up before openers The Icicle Works at 8. An acoustic version tonight, comprising a duo of former IW main man and barking mad maverick Ian McNabb, resplendent in rocker double denim and steampunk hat, and old IW sidekick Chris Lay, they ploughed through a selection of “nostalgia” from the Scouse rockers’ impressive post-punk/ pseudo prog 80’s back catalogue, revealing extra levels of songwriting prowess in this stripped back format. Opener “Hollow Horse” was a melancholy wallow before the soaring chorus, McNabb encouraging singalongs throughout, “Little Girl Lost” was a plaintive tale reminiscent of The Doors’ quieter moments, and “Evangeline” a drawling Southern road movie vignette. Throughout McNabb was his usual effusive, sardonic self, introducing one number with, “here’s a track from 1985; it wasn’t a hit so fits in well with the rest of the set!”, and encouraging us early comers to meet up at the merch stand; “you don’t have to buy anything, but fucking do!” A very Country and Western-inflected “Understanding Jane” (“UJ” – the Yellowstone years?) was far removed from the soaring full band belter but my set highlight nonetheless, and after the intricate campfire picking of set closer “Love Is A Wonderful Colour” I took the man’s advice and hobble out to the foyer for a pic and a brief chat! 

Back in as I overheard the dark, pulsing “Steeltown” intro music, and I was back on my stool for the band’s arrival dead on 9. The snaking guitar riffery of “Flame Of The West”, delivered in fine homage to his sadly lamented former bandleader Stuart Adamson by beaming guitarist Bruce Watson, already in fantasy band camp and caring not a jot that the place was probably only 2/3rds full, opened proceedings, with “new” (I say “new”, he’s been in the band 2 years now…) vocalist Simon Hough delivering the lead line with his low, nasal and surprisingly Adamson-like voice. Good start!

 For me, there’s little to choose in terms of songwriting quality between “Steeltown” and its predecessor, Big Country’s debut “The Crossing”; however “Steeltown”, reflective of the turbulent industrial times of the mid-80s, is a more politically-charged and social commentary-led beast, often bleak of mood and atmosphere. That said, the title track and subsequent “Where The Rose Is Sown” was an early double highlight, the respective choral hooks soaring and singalong despite the subject matter, both powered along by drummer Mark Brzezicki’s economical yet commanding style. “Winter Sky” was an unexpected galloping highlight, and album closer “Just A Shadow” a fine, plaintive lament, yet the mood changed markedly with the subsequent and considerably more upbeat “Look Away”, the crowd suddenly in full anthemic voice, continuing the singalong into the subsequent “Chance” and set highlight, the euphoric “In A Big Country”. A thunderous “Fields Of Fire”, including a vignette of “Whisky In The Jar”, capped an imperfect (a few bum notes, but no surprise for the opening night of the tour) yet fine 1 hour 20 minutes, with “Lost Patrol” an unexpected choice for the sole encore. 

Grabbed a list and a chat outside with Big Country guitarist Jamie Watson as Rich got the car, slow egress from the city centre nonetheless getting us home for ¼ to 12. Not as singalong as previous Big Country gigs, maybe, but a fine night out and an apt celebration of a notable album. Thanks Rich!

1,312 SPANISH LOVE SONGS, Heart Attack Man, Suds, Southampton Engine Rooms, Saturday 13th January 2024

 

Another late call, this… after a couple of thrillingly visceral performances from LA emo rabble Spanish Love Songs immediately pre-Covid, both in support of kindred spirits The Menzingers (gig 1,173) and in their own right (gig 1,136), I was always up for more, so happily (and quickly, before it sold out!) booked tix for the Bristol Fleece leg of this January UK jaunt, in support of their 4^th album, last year’s “No Joy”. Whilst continuing the lyrical themes of introverted self-examination and trying to make sense of adult life in this fucked-up world, they’ve toned down the guitar onslaught a few (hundred?) notches on this release, revealing some excellent, almost acoustic-powered, galloping melody. One of my faves of the year, and I was looking forward to seeing how this more muted approach would reconcile with their bludgeoning behemoth “live” alter-ego, so I was gutted that my impending knee op was rescheduled for that very Bristol date! Bah! Luckily, the Southampton date fell prior to this (indeed, it’s the opening date on the tour…), a few late tix were released, so I booked late on. And, after playing a bit of “No Joy” in the car, my son and Menzingers fan Logan decided he was up for some Saturday night South Coast rock as well!

 So we Hit the road about 5.30, being held up by stationary traffic on the M4 but eventually clearing it and parking up in the massive – and cheap at £2! – nearby multi storey at 20 past 7. Just enough time to wander round to this weird industrial estate-located tin shed venue and grab a centre spot a couple of rows back for openers Suds, prompt at 7.30. I’d heard good reports about this new Norfolk band and was not to be disappointed; opener “A Terrible Thing” sashayed in with a pastoral Americana mood and some wistful tones from vocalist Maisie Carter, which was then overlaid by some heavy grungy guitar work, giving me immediate Madder Rose “Car Song” vibes. “Paint My Body” was more upbeat with some groovy 2-part harmonies, again recalling Mary Lorson’s charges in their more frantic moments, and a later “Hard For Me”, apparently about Great Yarmouth pleasure beach (!), delved into lilting Alvvays territory. A couple more upbeat numbers, including the rapid, rampant and eminently hooky closer “Freckle”, rounded off a fine opening set from a very promising young band – who, rather predictably when I challenged them about it at the merch stand, had never heard of Madder Rose!

 Grabbed the Suds list from their affable bassist, to happily find it was scribbled on the back of Spanish Love Songs’ list! A two’fer; nice! Main support Heart Attack Man were up in short order, the black-clad band bounding enthusiastically onstage and ripping into a set of energetic if formulaic So Cal pop-punk which would have been more apt for a Bowling For Soup support slot. Some chunky Weezer soundalike numbers as well, and one mid-set number, Old Enough To Die”, which was a dead ringer for Jimmy Eat World’s “Authority Song”, but otherwise not really much for me. Still, there was a frenzied young moshpit behind us throughout, especially going nuts during the shouty “Like A Kennedy”, so what do I know, eh?

 Logan had grabbed a barrier spot by now, so we chatted with our front row colleagues before the imposing monolith that is Spanish Love Songs mainman Dylan Slocum led his charges on at 9.30, easing into the slow burn build of opener “I’m Gonna Miss Everything”, the hook lustily sung back by the devoted. As I’d expected (and hoped), the heavy guitars were indeed pared back, exposing both the melody and intricate confessional lyricism of the new material in particular, and bringing Slocum’s yearning and passionate yet commanding vocals to the fore. “Lifers” was earnest and anthemic, and “Losers” a proper 4 to the floor stomper, kicking the gig into proper life.

 

“Holy Moly Southampton! We played this room back in 2020 – nothing bad happened after that!” deadpanned Slocum before the first-pumping roof raiser “Clean Up Crew”, the band then delving back to tumbling, angular oldie “Bellyache” and the frantic, punk rock verse and stadium roar chorus of “The Boy Considers His Haircut”, to the delight of the faithful. Returning to the new album material, Slocum informed us, “a lot of [“No Joy”] was written in the depths of depression when I couldn’t see my friends, so this [being able to play “live” again] is wonderful!”, and this really shone through, the band determined to make up for that lost time and revel in the “live” environment. So much so, unfortunately, that Slocum’s earnest and doubtless very sincere proclamations about how grateful he was/is to the fans here tonight became a little cloying when repeated too often. Mate, we know you love us, please don’t turn into Bono!

 That aside, this was a fine and inclusive performance, capped by a quite brilliant double-whammy of the new albums’ 2 best numbers, “Marvel” and tonight’s highlight, the wonderful, soaring “Haunted”, both expertly delivered despite guitarist/ keyboardist Meredith Van Voert having contrived to put a hole in her acoustic guitar a couple of numbers earlier! This actually worked out for the best, as Van Voert then concentrated on the undulating keyboard melody underpinning these 2 numbers instead.

 We took a wander to the back, then, as my knee was barking at me, grabbing a bar bench spot as Slocum led the band through the 2 “encores” (“just pretend we walked off”), the “California Uber Alles” drumbeat and final skyscraping communal singalong of “Brave Faces Everyone” (also pretty much the only time SLS really hit the heavy riffery tonight) concluding a 1 hour 20 set replete with singalongs and highlights. A quick exit at 11 and inky black drive back up the A34, avoiding the M4 traffic this time and hitting home at 12.30 via Jimmy’s kebabs for a late supper. Despite my concerns about Slocombe’s over-earnestness, this was an excellent Spanish Love Songs “opening night” gig; glad I made sure I caught them on this tour!