Another
numerical milestone is achieved, and in fact, this gig represented another,
possibly more significant milestone, that being the first gig I attended since
my retirement from work last Friday! No intention of retiring from gigs or discovering
“new” bands just yet though, hence tonight’s host. I’d initially slept on
Blondshell, the more manageable nom du guerre for NYC expat Sabrina Mae
Tietelbaum, when her eponymous first album emerged a couple of years ago, but
picked up and largely enjoyed her 2025 sophomore effort, “If You Asked For A
Picture”. Some serious early 90’s college rock/ post-grunge slacker vibes a la
Blake Babies, Lemonheads and even my brief mid-90’s fave Tracy Bonham,
underpinned by Sabrina’s clear, smoky voice, and featuring in “23’s A Baby”, a
lovely slice of melancholy with a layered harmony choral hook and a definite
contender for my “Best of 2025” Compo CD. A Bristol date, even in an
already-crowded early Autumn Dance Card, seemed quite an enticing prospect,
then…
I remembered that occasional gig friend Paul (the gent from Chiseldon at that 2022 War On Drugs gig (gig no. 1,219)) mentioning Blondshell before, so after I mentioned this gig to him, I had some company! A zoom down the M4 chatting music and life experiences got us parked up and joining a surprisingly long queue about 10 minutes before doors. Grabbed a spot half a dozen rows back, house left, noting the large proliferation of young females in tonight’s audience. Not quite at Eli-worshipping Inhaler levels, but still… Westside Cowboy took the stage to a surprisingly shrill reception at 8; I’d seen an initially noisy yet ultimately varied and intriguing set from this lot in support of Personal Trainer earlier this year (gig 1,371) and it was immediate from the outset that they’d developed notably since then; following their dusty Spaghetti Western soundtrack opening, “The Boys” was a racey metronomic indie delight with a hooky chorus recalling The Beths and an excellent build to a noisy false ending, and “I Never Met Anyone…” a Buffalo Tom-esque loud-quiet-loud 90’s college pop-athon. Great start! My set highlight from last time, “Scaring Me Now” – apparently correctly titled “Drunk Surfer” – was again a rocking and soaring mid-set highlight, before they delved into their more rhythmic America-tinged side, albeit via “The Wahs”, whose chiming opening riff sounded to me like Ash’s “Burn Baby Burn”, no less! A band definitely starting to deliver on their promise, then, this once again varied and very fine indeed set was bookended with their one-mic tubthumping campfire singalong “In The Morning”. Follow that, Blondshell!
Much busier at this time around our spot – if this wasn’t a sellout on the night, it sure felt like it from where we stood… The lights cut prompt at 9 and the band took the stage quickly, Sabrina last, and straight into their best number “23’s A Baby”, the plaintive 60’s soda bar verse melody ceding to the harmonic chorus, Sabrina and her bassist duetting on those harmonies but not sounding as full and lush as on CD. “Toy” was robust 90’s college pop with an Alvvays undercurrent, and a decent opening triad also featured “Docket”, Sabrina intoning her vocals like a “University”-era Kristen Hersh over this mid-paced moody Muse-piece.
Unfortunately,
that was about as good as it got for me. “Sepsis”, despite being greeted with screams
from the faithful, was a dull sub-Alannis slow-burn introspective confessional,
which sadly seemed to inform the remainder of the set. I’d enjoyed listening to
both Blondshell albums in the car of late, whilst recognising that “23’s A Baby”
is their best number by far, but “live”, that same material came across as
understated and uninspired, and quickly sank into a trough of turgid
post-grunge slacker meh. Paul had excused himself early in the set to find a
seat at the back, and I joined him 2/3rds of the way through the set, after a
pit-stop at the merch stand to compliment and chat with the Westside Cowboy
folks (and later, to show them I’d just downloaded their EP from Bandcamp!). He
was very much of the same view (even more so, in fact; having seen them at the Thekla
on their last tour, he was flatly disappointed with tonight’s performance in comparison
with that Dirty Boat show!); no doubt, this was going down a storm with their
young faithful, but to us 60’s somethings, it felt like the same teen angst
with a different pair of striped trousers. So. halfway through the encore, we
left.
Dropped Paul off about 11 after a chatty drive home, musing on tonight’s showing. Not the best performance from the headliner for my significant milestone, then, but the night wasn’t a complete wash musically, given the rise of Westside Cowboy. So, as the 2003 Boston Red Sox used to say, time to “Cowboy Up”!
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