1,076 THE HOLD STEADY, Scott Hutchison, London Camden Electria Ballroom, Friday 9th March 2018

The Hold Steady, a band I glibly yet (to my mind) totally accurately describe as The Greatest Rock’n’Roll Band On The Planet, and featuring in vocalist Craig Finn a complete onstage Force of Nature wrapped up in the slight bespectacled frame of a middle-aged geography teacher, celebrated the 10^th anniversary of their breakthrough album “Boys And Girls In America” last year with a series of party gigs around their native USA. Like all killer parties, however, this one was bound to spill over beyond its’ scheduled time, so 2018 saw them return to these shores to continue that celebration, with a couple of London shows. No fucking chance was I missing that, so I was “on it” for the tickets as soon as they went on sale, sadly blowing out of my preferred Saturday slot before they sold out (or so I thought), but happily snagging one for the Friday opener. Good thing too as it turned out, as the usual SLF “Mad March” date was announced for the Saturday, completing a “3-gigs-in-3-days” mad weekend… but I digress…

Made arrangements to leave work early and hit a sodden M4 at 4pm for a difficult drive up the Smoke, inching along painfully from the Chiswick flyover and parking up, somewhat frazzled, at 7 in the Bush. Tubed it over to the Electric Ballroom and took a spot, stage left near the front, wandering in as the PA was playing “Life Begins At The Hop” by XTC! Sang along to that and subsequent XTC classics before Scott Hutchison took the stage at 8 to a cheer and a remark of, “well, this is a bit exciting…” Hutchison, main-man of Scots’ fuzzy psych-folk backwoodsmen and Grandaddy acolytes Frightened Rabbit, a band whose 2013 “Pedestrian Verse” album I’d enjoyed, but whose accompanying gig (no. 895) and subsequent follow-up, 2016’s “Painting Of A Panic Attack” I’d found a bit, well, pedestrian, set about proving me wrong with a fine and well-chosen set of FR moments; “The Modern Leper” was a morose and angst-ridden gallop-fest, followed by a pacy, slightly-delic “Old Old Fashioned”. Also entertaining was his dealing with a request with, “I don’t know if that works acoustically,” then when said heckler replied in the affirmative, responding with, “it works for you, maybe…!” “I Wish I Was Sober” was a plaintive, mournful elegy, and a rousing “Woodpile” and foot-stomping “Loneliness And The Scream”, the crowd woah-oh-ing along to the dramatic and building denouement, were fine punctuations on an unexpectedly splendid and well-received set. Need to re-appraise some of that Frightened Rabbit stuff, obviously…

The place got proper old-school rammed as XTC again filled the time, before the lights dimmed at 9 and the “Pink Panther” theme started up, The Hold Steady sauntering onstage to a rapturous, lengthy and building ovation. Last to take the stage was Finn, already beaming from ear to ear, taking a moment to bask in the adulation before announcing, “we’re going to have a good time tonight!” as Tad Kubler hit the opening notes to “Stuck Between Stations.” From that opening riff, the place went bat-shit mental (myself included), audience responding as one, an eruption of sheer effervescent joy and immersion in the power of rock’n’roll, all-encompassing and all-inclusive. All, that is, except for one dickhead…

The mosh was a violently jostling yet joyful and good-natured body, arms aloft, a multitude of singing and hugging total strangers, yet this one bloke, on the barriers stage right, treated anyone who dared bash into him as if it was a personal assault, viciously elbowing back with indignant fury etched across his face. On more than one occasion he squared up to me – I just beckoned behind me and yelled, “look at that, mate, what can I do about that??” – so I sought a bit of space from this gig virgin moron. He later squared up to another fellow mosher – a much heftier bloke than myself (if you’re reading this mate, I mean that in the nicest way!) – at which point a bouncer intervened. Shame, I’d have liked to have seen him try to take on my mosh companion. Would have been one a punch fight there, methinks…

Let this not detract from the onstage fayre, however; from note one, The Hold Steady were utterly magnificent tonight, the distilled essence of rock’n’roll, thrilling and transcendent. I dunno, I’ve been doing this gig malarkey for 38 years now, but I can probably count on the fingers of one hand those very special “live” bands where the distinction between performer and audience is so blurred you can’t see the join, where everyone comes together in a celebratory mass, giving themselves (ourselves) over to the moment. “This 6-piece line-up [including original and returning member, keyboardist Franz Nicolai] is the best live line up [of The Hold Steady],” announced an all-action Finn, and after a huge singalong “Sequestered In Memphis” and rampant “Same Kooks”, nobody was arguing!

After a few numbers, however, it dawned on me a) that I’m 52 and owner of 2 dodgy knees, and b) how ill-prepared I was for this one. Knowing I, like 99% of tonight’s attendees, was going to completely lose my shit to The Hold Steady, I should really have donned contact lenses, kneestraps; hell, even shorts (!). So I took a mid-set rest before working my way over to the other side of the crowd, away from barrier moron. “Are you guys having as much fun as I am?” asked an elated Finn before “First Night”, which featured a keyboard vignette from Nicolai; then an utterly incendiary “Constructive Summer” saw me back in the pit, bouncing off my fellow moshers and rejoicing in the moment. A new number, “Eureka” (“about Eureka, California – it’s beautiful but really sketchy!” according to Finn) promised well for the next album, and “I Hope This Whole Thing Didn’t Frighten You” was immense, featuring a ball-crushingly massive middle 8. “Your Little Hoodrat Friend” featured a typically tangential soliloquy from Finn on the history of the Hold Steady before its usual soaring denouement, and the soulful confessional of “How A Resurrection Really Feels” saw everyone take a much needed breather at the end of an utterly rampant set.

“I usually give up drink for Lent,” announced Finn upon returning for the encore, gleefully clutching a plastic cocktail cup, “but God granted me a European exemption!” “Citrus” was lovely, plaintive and singalong, before a punked-up “Adderall” and roof-raising “Stay Positive” followed, the crowd’s “whoa-oh-oh’s shaking this venerable old venue’s foundations. Then, “its’ come to the part of the evening that I only have one more thing to say…” Finn built the tension as the band eased into the framework of “Killer Parties” before releasing it with, “… there is SO MUCH JOY!!! in what we do!” to a huge ovation. “Killer Parties” took us to an astonishing 2 hours that simply raced by, Finn leaving us with the message, “we, you, you and you, we ALL are The Hold Steady…!”

Elated, I grabbed a list, chatted with fellow punters about what we’d just witnessed – hell, what we’d just been part of – before collecting my thoughts and what little remaining energy I could muster, thence disappearing into the London night, car by midnight, home at a weary 1.30. It’s not just hyperbole on my part, for me The Hold Steady are indeed The Greatest Rock’n’Roll Band On The Planet, and tonight they emphatically underlined it again. Long may this Killer Party continue!

895 FRIGHTENED RABBIT, Lanterns On The Lake, Paul Thomas Saunders, Southampton University Student Union, Sunday 10 November 2013

The hectic pace continues – first of a good old fashioned “two-in two” double header was a run-down to Southampton University, scene of a smattering of late 80’s gig trips to see Throwing Muses, Lush, House Of Love and the like whilst visiting Ady and co at the Uni and eating massive amounts of chips from Big George’s chippy. Scottish band Frightened Rabbit were the hosts; a new name on me this year, but one which had been apparently ploughing an idiosyncratic little miserablist furrow for a few years and albums now, only zooming onto my radar with excellent current release “Pedestrian Verse”, a more upbeat and optimistic blend of chunky rock, fuzzy psychedelic touches and yearning, earnest vocals than its’ predecessors, with a decided Celtic touch. I was keen to see this lot, and booked on the pre-sale for this one, the nearest they came to the ‘Don.

Took an early and easy drive down and actually parked up pre-doors opposite the Uni, needing to queue up to get in to the venue, the same old hall from those old 80’s gigs. A reason for getting there early was to meet up with South Coast-domiciled friend Doug Anderson, who arrived midway through Paul Thomas Saunders’ fey and wispy Cocteau Twins shoegaze-like stuff and nonsense. Quite a pleasant musical backdrop for a good and overdue catch-up with an old friend, as it was predominantly tune-free and eminently ignorable! Main support Lanterns On The Lake fared little better with their female-fronted melancholic alt-Country. Again, nice enough but quickly forgotten.

We took a wander to the side, stage left, for the main event. Kicking off with a toughened-up “Holy”, the splendid chugging, “Murmur”-era REM pastiche from the new album, Frightened Rabbit, led by the hefty bearded bear of a mainman Scott Hutchison, were initially strident and powerful, an early overtly anthemic “Nothing Like You” almost Springsteen/ Gaslight Anthem-esque, before a lengthy discussion from the humorously gregarious frontman about the virtues of being miserable and expecting nothing (!) preceded a more melancholy “Dead Now”.

This was a very varied set, ranging from the strumalong nu-folk Celtic reel of “Old Old Fashioned”, through a morose oldie “Music Now” (prior to which Hutchison, tongue in cheek, called out us Johnny-Come-Latelys as “Glory Hunters! Just kidding, I love you all like children; shit children…”), to the beefy, Manchester Orchestra-like rock of “The Wrestle” (“this is about fighting a shark, which I’ve done on numerous occasions… bite its’ cock off, it’ll never come back!”) and the bilious, bitter anthem of “State Hospital”, which built to a powerful, strident crescendo. There was even a solo acoustic interlude from Hutchison, bringing Lanterns vocalist Hazel on to duet on “Fuck This Place” before a bare, Hobotalk-like “Floating In The Forth”, sung back by the faithful in the crowd.

This was all good stuff, however the older material generally suffered in comparison to the higher songwriting quality of the “Pedestrian Verse” stuff, in my view, and it was a massive shame that the 2 best tracks on said album, the joyous “Late March, Death March” and the brilliant, Idlewild-meets-Grandaddy “Backyard Skulls” (2013 singles both) were perversely left out altogether. So we Johnny-Come-Lately’s had to make do with an elegiac, plaintive “Acts Of Man”, closing out the set, and the anthemic route-march and crushing chorus of encore opener “The Woodpile”, before, “the ultimate song about fucking!” “Keep Yourself Warm” got the crowd fast-handclapping along, to cap a good but not great 1 ½ hours set.

Grabbed a set-list and said goodbyes to Doug before hitting the road. Clearly this was a set for the aficionados, the old material being played with conviction and greeted as such. However I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed at what was left out tonight, as I drove home swiftly under starry skies. Maybe next time, Frightened Rabbit; and no worries, there will be a next time!