921 TELEVISION, Louise Distras, London Shepherd's Bush Empire, Sunday 27 July 2014

I’m correcting an ancient error of omission with tonight’s Television gig, seeing these original punk rock pioneers for the first time! Television, who emerged from the New York CBGB’s/ Max’s Kansas City scene in the mid 70’s with contemporaries The Ramones, Patti Smith and Blondie, passed me by a little back in the day, I’m ashamed to say, and I only recently acknowledged their genius (actually, when I say recently, I kind of mean mid 90’s, so it’s not that recent really!) given their obvious influence on the likes of the jerky tinny Britpop brigade, and the new millennial crop of New York rockers like The Strokes, Stellastarr* and Interpol. Never saw them “live” until tonight, though, when an opportunity to break up a barren gigging July with a London trip presented itself, to see Tom Verlaine and crew do a set consisting of their seminal 1977 work “Marquee Moon”, a tense, fragile masterpiece, innovative, chilling and atmospheric, and still a great listen, 37 years on.

 

So I set off on a balmy early evening, initially encountering frustrating heavy traffic but nonetheless parking up in my usual spot around the corner from the venue, getting in at 7.45 and watching the place fill up, mainly with studious old rocker blokes with Ramones or “Marquee Moon” t-shirts. At 49, I actually felt quite young! Took a wander forward for support Louise Distras, a raven haired and tattooed punk/ folk songstress with an overt gravelly delivery for her strident political (both personal and party) Guthrie/ Bragg-esque manifestos. What kept her just the right side of screaming harpy sloganeering cliché for me was some dry wit and carefree enthusiasm, which grabbed my attention, if not the majority of the crowd. I enjoyed her set, although I couldn’t help but wonder whether a Hyde Park Corner soapbox might be a more appropriate venue…

 

Kept my spot stage right, four or five rows back and next to some bespectacled lairy bloke (more on him later…), as we were subjected to what seemed an eternity of patience-trying pealing bells as a “musical” backdrop, before the band finally emerged, looking like a group of lawyers on their way to the golf course, with the obvious exception of be-hatted and pointy bearded rocker guitarist Jimmy Rip. After some wall-of-noise Byrdsian psych-fretwork, mainly from Rip, they kicked into the herky-jerky rhythm and tumbling NYC street cool riffery of “See No Evil”. This immediately set the tone for tonight’s performance; laconic albeit submerged vocals from iconic mainman Tom Verlaine, pounding tom-tom dominated rhythm, and intricate and virtuoso fretwork from both Verlaine and Rip, who particularly (and ironically) can play guitar just like ringing a bell…!

 

As I’d suspected, this was a non-sequential run-through of the “Marquee Moon” material, as the Spanish guitar of “Prove It” was next up, featuring an impassioned, yearning vocal from Verlaine, followed by a squalling “1880 Or So”, notable for Rip’s white noise guitar work which was eerily reminiscent of Bob Mould! Prior to an eerie, elegiac “Torn Curtain”, Verlaine, in response to a heckler, replied, “there’s always some guy who shouts, “come on Tom,” and I never figure out what the… fuck he means!” The band then suffered some technical problems before the nevertheless excellently chugging “Friction”, and the subsequent “Elevation” was superb, dramatic and windswept, but was punctuated by lairy bloke (remember him?) pushing forward, pissing off a few folks in the process. It all seemed ready to kick off before the “come on Tom” bloke, a hefty chap to my left, deftly diffused that situation by removing lairy bloke’s glasses and luring him out of the vicinity, while the band, oblivious, played on… “Venus” was my personal set highlight, a plangent thing of beauty, wondrous and haunting with Rip’s tumbling, intricate guitar riff as much a work of art as the subject matter of Venus De Milo. However, towards the end of this number, lairy bloke returned, pushing and shoving, before one guy, whose girlfriend he’d insulted earlier, flew into him and gave him a good old fashioned chinning which sent him sprawling to the ground, before bouncers dived in to remove lairy bloke from the premises, to everyone’s relief!

 

Thus relaxed, it was time for set closer “Marquee Moon”, tonight’s version of this definitive New Wave classic rendered perfectly, the mood detached and urbane, with Verlaine and Rip weaving intricate guitar patterns which built over its’ sprawling length to a rocking crescendo. Marvellous stuff, and a total appropriate way to end the set.

 

We didn’t really need encores after that, but “Glory” (which I know largely due to Lloyd Cole’s cover!) was the best of the 2. However “Marquee Moon” was the real star on display tonight. So overall, an ancient error corrected by myself, and a splendid evening with these enduring New Wave pioneers Television!

920 THE VERY MOST, Yakuri Cable, the King In Mirrors, Swindon The Victoria, Tuesday 22 July 2014

Poking my head out above the parapet for this one, a local gig organised by old Level 3 face and recent facebook friend Rich May to showcase his band The King In Mirrors, and to also put on a couple of other indiepop bands, including Boise, Idaho’s The Very Most, over to play the Indietracks Festival this coming weekend and with a couple of evenings to fill in the meantime. TKIM’s presence would have been enough to drag me out on a sweltering Tuesday evening, but further incentive was provided by Rich Craven, donning his “DJ Mark E Moon” persona and promising to spin some suitably appropriate C86 tunes. Oh, go on then…

 

So, shorts and kneestrap bolted on, I drove up and hit the venue at 8.30, catching up with the 2 Richs and availing myself of some vintage tuneage (Close Lobsters! Pastels!) courtesy of Mr. Craven. Mr. May then gathered his troupe together and took the stage on this “Songs Of Praise” promoted evening at 9, easing into jangly opener “At The Rivers Edge”, before second number “Your Spell” was introduced as, “a song about being seduced by an other-worldly being in the local disco – true story!”. This one really impressed, despite being slightly at odds with TKIM’s usual material, being darker, edgier and with an early 80’s pseudo-Goth guitar feel redolent of Scars or Modern English. Good one!

 

“He’s good, isn’t he? He’s been practising!” remarked Mrs. May to The Very Most’s vocalist Jeremy, standing stage front next to me. Indeed, practice seemed to have made perfect with this impressive set from The King In Mirrors; “Your Spell” aside, this was a set of punchy, upbeat C86-esque jangle with nicely layered guitars and Rich’s slightly atonal vocals recalling the likes of The Razorcuts. “Catwoman” had a more kitsch 60’s B movie feel about it, and “Good Friends” saw Mr. Craven emerge from behind the decks to duet with his old friend, a nice touch. Overall, Rich relaxed into his performance as it progressed, ultimately delivering a set tougher than TKIM’s elegant but slightly wispier CD material, full of optimism and promise. Nice work!

 

A quick chat outside with Dave Franklin and an elated Rich May, before next band Yakuri Cable – their name and Glaswegian origins may have suggested a shambolic but harmonic noise, but instead they were a drummer-less 4-piece sonically in thrall to 80’s synthpop. They were occasionally interesting with some jagged edges a la China Crisis or Blancmange, but all too often veered more towards jazz café wallpaper pop. Nice, pretty and melodic, maybe, but also unobtrusive and forgettable to these ears. Sorry guys.

 

After another quickfire turnaround (seemingly the modus operandi for these Songs Of Praise nights!), The Very Most hit the stage at 10.30. This was apparently a “manufactured” version of The Very Most, featuring bearded singer and mainman Jeremy over from Idaho, a couple of members of Yakuri Cable pulling double shifts, a drummer from Spain (!) and Vinnie, a voluble and chatty female backing vocalist. Apparently this iteration of the band had only been together for 6 days, but you’d not have noticed, as from the outset they delivered an upbeat, summery and fun set of bouncy, melodic indiepop, with some splendid male/female call and response harmonies and interplay. Mining the middle ground I never knew existed between C86 faves The Hit Parade and the excellent New Pornographers, there was also a real craftsmanship about the songs on display, an evident intelligence in making them sound so immediate and infectiously catchy. Second number “Patricia” was an early highlight, “When Summer Dies” an odd juxtaposition between the lyrical content and the song’s optimistic, upbeat feel, and I loved the story about Vinnie apparently being licked on the face by a Fall fan in Nottingham (!), before she delivered lead vocals on the bouncier penultimate “Things Too Obvious”. A final “Congratulations For Ever”, was a chugalong exclamation point on a fun, inclusive little jewel of a set. Vinnie had remarked, “It’s just indie pop, Jeremy!” in response to the singer’s uncharacteristically high string breakage rate this evening, but this was impressive, intelligently crafted and fun indie pop.

 

Grabbed both an armful of TVM CDs and a lengthy chat with affable vocalist Jeremy before saying my farewells and hitting the road, nearly collecting an unloading Vinnie as I drove down the side of the Vic. Still, at least it wasn’t another face-lick…! A late one but another fine “Songs Of Praise” evening out!

 

919 SUEDE, Gruff Rhys, Westonbirt Arboretum, Saturday 21 June 2014

An outdoor gig on the hottest, sunniest and longest day of the year so far, with the pollen count stratospherically high and me having already had one hay-fever induced sneezing fit already today thanks to my rather recklessly mowing the lawn this morning? Well, it’s Suede, 90’s faves and recently reunited and definitely revitalised, so why not? Truth to tell, when this gig – a continuation of the “Forest Live” Summer gig series at the Arboretum which saw me catching up with Simple Minds on a sodden gig 822, 3 years ago – was announced, we booked it up as a birthday outing for me, fully aware of the vagaries of the British Summertime and therefore half-anticipating a murky, slate-grey evening, and mist evocatively rolling into the arena through the outlining trees. That would actually have worked really well, given Suede’s pre-disposition towards a slightly sinister mood, vocalist Brett Anderson himself admitting at our Hallowe’en Birmingham gig, last time out, that they were the ideal band for that evening! How on earth would their sleazy glam pop work, on an evening awash with brilliant sunshine rather than damp drizzle? Still, they’re always good value “live”, so here goes…

 

With Grandma on holiday, Tim and Tracey, so often gig companions, were our babysitters tonight! So we set off after settling the kids in with them, driving down on a sun-drenched evening, experiencing surprisingly easy access to the event field, parking up and wandering over to the strains of the Jam and, more welcomingly, Wire’s classic “Dot Dash”. The first point of notice was that the “arena” was smaller, the barriers brought in considerably from the Simple Minds gig, and the entrance a lot closer in to the stage. Probably a couple of thousand here tonight, then, most people relaxing on lawnchairs and picnicking! Nice crowd for a lazy and convivial Summer evening outdoors, but an odd one for a gig… Anyway, I was never much of a fan of Super Furry Animals, so support Gruff Rhys, on solo at 10 to 8, was onto a loser for me from the outset; however he made it worse by using those wretched tape loops to embellish his dour singer songwriter solo stuff. Rach found it telling that the only early number I clapped to was 3^rd one, “American Interior”, which was his first not to use loops! A couple of later, more uptempo numbers sounded better at the end of his set, but by then we’d completely lost interest and gone to get chips! Comes to something when his Bob Dylan “Subterranean Homesick Blues”-styled placards were the most entertaining part of the set…

 

We saw some familiar faces for a chat before the Sex Pistols’ nasty punk classic “Bodies” surprisingly heralded the entrance of the band, emerging into the still-bright mid-evening at 9 and easing into the slow, moody sweeping drama of “Pantomime Horse”. The glam riffery of the subsequent “Flashboy” picked up the tempo if not the atmosphere; despite all-action Brett Anderson’s exhortations, the sound was thin and one-dimensional, guitarist Neil Codling struggling with technical difficulties which continued intermittently throughout. The set needed a kick-start – and it got it with “Trash”. A tremendous version of this “manifesto” number really got the crowd bouncing, Anderson dramatically delivering the soaring chorus and inviting the crowd to fill in the hookline. “Animal Nitrate” followed, completing a superb double-whammy, Anderson all energy, leaps and jumps, putting himself fully into his performance and demanding the same commitment from the crowd; “what does to take to turn you on?????”, indeed!

 

A really strong early set-section continued with the touching late-night Bowie-esque balladry of “The Wild Ones” and a splendid “Drowners”, during which Anderson leapt the barriers and wandered through the front rows to massive squeals of delight. The set meandered a little for me thereafter; as this wasn’t a “normal” Suede gig, they’d clearly decided on a “Greatest Hits” set selection at the expense of material from their recent, superb “Bloodsports” CD, a crowdpleasing decision, but for me a shame. However, an excellent “Metal Mickey” and the set highlight of “New Generation” rounded off the set well, before another singalong of “Beautiful Ones”, and the sole encore “Stay Together” finished their seemingly slightly truncated 1 hour 20 performance.

 

I grabbed a set-list (to the confusion of the woman on the barrier next to me – “what’s that??” “It’s a set list…”) and we drove home after a remarkably easy egress from the site, Rach and I both coming to the same conclusion. Great start after “Trash”, sagged in the middle, great finish, shame there was only the one “Bloodsports” track, much better last year at Birmingham; but as I said at the outset, even an average Suede performance is good value and a damned entertaining evening, particularly with Brett Anderson, a true star, doing what he does best!

918 NUDY BRONQUE, Port Erin, Oui Legionnaires, Swindon the Victoria, Thursday 5 June 2014

Keeping it local tonight for this “Songs Of Praise”-promoted evening, showcasing a spritely young trio who are increasingly becoming my favourite Swindon band since probably the early days of You Are Here, in Nudy Bronque. I was impressed by both their quirky and arty music, difficult to define and pigeonhole but easy to enjoy, and their fresh fun approach to the “live” performance, last time out at Riffs, so here we are again for some more Nudy stuff and nonsense!

 

No idea on start times so I took a risk that it might be later, and picked Dean up at 8.30 for the trundle up the hill. I was right! We had time for a drink and chinwag with the arriving Nudy boys, plus tonight’s promoter Dave Franklin (who, rather handily, kept popping out of the backroom venue to let us know when bands were due on!), before slinging some coinage into the donations bucket for entrance, and checking out openers, Cheltenham’s Oui Legionnaires. A young trio, they kicked off with the tousled vocalist playing a Dashboard Confessional-like impassioned acoustic opener from the floor, in front of the sparse crowd, before joining his bandmates onstage and hitting the “rock out!” button squarely. They kicked up a high-octane thrilling post-hardcore/ thrashy EMO collision of noise and driving riffery, in a Seafood locking horns with Rival Schools and Husker Du kind of way. Some splendid strident choruses with conflicting/ competing harmony lines, as well as some Biffy-like tempo changes, also impressed, as did their onstage humour (viz. the vocalist being shy about introducing a number called "Fuck You Nottingham!”). Their set finished as it started; on the floor, with an acoustic Frank Turner-esque duet to eternal youth, with a hook of, “you’re just jealous cos we’re young and in love”. Impressive stuff. I’d have bought a CD if they had any (“our ex-guitarist still has them around his house in Gloucester!”), but rest assured I‘ll check this lot out again.

 

Port Erin, next up, were a different proposition; another trio, they started off intriguingly with a windswept US-alt country sounding opener evoking Shearwater or Grizzly Bear, but then their intricacies and fiddly riffery veered for me too uncomfortably close to Proggy clever-cleverness for the sake of it. A final, straight-forward rocker, showed better potential; they’re another band I’d happily check out again, if they kept things simpler!

 

Beef eventually turned up and we caught up, hearing his recent Spanish holiday horror story, before wandering in for headliners Nudy Bronque about 10.30. Introduced onstage as, “3 idiots with guitars and drums,” they were clearly playing to familiar faces and delivered a relaxed, fun set from the off. Opener “Luggage” set the tone early, a Pulp-like glam kitsch opener delivered with a swish and a swagger by vocalist and rivetting frontman Aiden. Clearly a big old showoff in his youth but finding the perfect outlet for his flamboyant tendencies and deep, old-beyond-his-years vocals, Aiden’s stage persona is part Jarvis Cocker, part Russell Brand, but all entertaining. The 60’s tinged kitchen sink drama of “No Wives, No Children” saw some yodelling vocals and squally guitar in equal measure, but the subsequent “Peachy Keen” was a real early highlight, the Orange Juice “Blue Boy” drumbeat gallop dovetailing into the hooky chorus and more thrilling discordant noise. Superb stuff, although the onstage banter (“in 10 years’ time they’ll say the world wasn’t ready for Nudy Bronque!”) and switching on of the drumkit’s striplights received as many cheers from the crowd as the song itself!

 

This lot don’t ever stray too far from the quirk (surely if “quirky” is an adjective, “quirk” should be a noun!?); even during their most straight-forward number, the upbeat Vaccines-fest indie rock of “Juliet Ottewell”, they stripped back the middle 8 to feature more of Aiden’s deep, resonant vocal histrionics and some comedic stage-prowling and menacing stares into the crowd. Again, final number “Space Travel 2013 By Phone” started with an art-school stomp and ended in a thrashy cacophony of noise, with Aiden delivering guitar riffery whilst rolling on the floor. They squeezed in an encore, the splendid and ridiculously catchy “Bottled Blonde”, which was introduced by the boys as, “the best song ever!” and was tonight’s excellent exclamation point on another little gem of a set from a band who deserve wider recognition. Hopefully they’re not too far from getting it!

917 WOLF ALICE, Superfood, Gengahr, Oxford O2 Academy 2 (ex Zodiac), Tuesday 13 May 2014

Last in a clutch of May gigs is this one, kind of a new band for a change! So here’s London’s Wolf Alice, a female fronted band whom I was (unsurprisingly) introduced to by Beef, finding them a challenging yet listenable mix of both shimmering and jagged guitar and vocals, reminding me at their best of my 90’s favourites The Julie Dolphin. A beguiling mix of the smooth and sharp on their small smattering of EPs to date, and therefore so far the most promising new band of this (admittedly fairly barren) year, I was intrigued as to how they’d balance both elements of their sound, “live”. One way to find out…

 

Beef was out of the country so couldn’t join us, so I travelled up with his mate Dean, taking my turn to drive as payback for Dean driving to Howler a couple of months ago! An early doors run up and a slight delay in Oxford, due to police navigating us around a shunt, nevertheless saw us parking up just after 7.30 in the – for once! – quieter Tescos car park, hitting the venue as openers Gengehr were working through their early numbers. They played some pleasant pastoral indie with some odd chunky guitar riffs which sounded all the more startling in comparison with their usual vibe, and featured a big beefy vocalist with an oddly keening, high pitched voice, reminiscent of Jonsi of Sigur Ros! A passable opener, overall.

 

Better was to come in the form of main support Superfood, on at 8.30; their opening track “Melting” appropriated the drum intro from the Boo Radleys’ classic “I Hang Suspended”, then bounded into a bouncy slice of Brit-indie pop, with those old fashioned staple virtues of good hooks and vocals, delivered by an impressive young vocalist. “Satellite” also featured a nagging choral hook and some fine harmonies, and the subsequent “Bubbles” was a looser-limbed sway-along with some deliciously discordant riffery. Their eminently tuneful set closed with an eponymous number which featured some heavier riffery and the hook, “you’re always hungry,” which was quite appropriate really, as I was hungry for more Superfood after this bright little gem of a set. Nice one!

 

The place filled up considerably after Superfood’s set, Wolf Alice’s appeal being evidently a broad one at this juncture – lots of old muso types (like ourselves) mixed in with enthusiastic teenage kids, keyed up and ready to mosh. And the place burst into floor-bouncing life when Wolf Alice took the stage at 9.30 in short order, ripping into the stomping grunge-lite of opener “Moaning Lisa Smile”, keeping up the momentum with the tumbling rhythm and Julie Dolphin-like soaring chorus of the subsequent “She”. That’s how to make an entrance!

 

Considerably more subdued on their clutch of EP releases to date, Wolf Alice tonight were a snarling animal, much harder-edged and strident “live”, with exciting proto-grunge riffery recalling a whole slew of excellent early 90’s female fronted bands. Whilst the opener “Lisa Smile” had the stomping strut of Veruca Salt, 3^rd number “Your Love’s Whore" recalled early Madder Rose, not least in waif-like vocalist Ellie Rowsell’s vocal inflections, and the subsequent mix of the colourful and caustic in “You’re A Germ” was reminiscent of a punkier Magnapop. Original? Hardly, but I couldn’t fault their taste in plagiarism, or their enthusiasm, as they delivered this set with power and pace.

 

“You guys are great!” proclaimed a breathless Ellie to the young mosh, before calming things down with an ethereal, hushed “Blush”, nevertheless building to a jagged guitar crescendo before melting into a well-observed cover of Chris Isaak’s eerie “Wicked Game”. Final number “Bros” with its’ tumbling guitar riff, got the old room bouncing again, closing out a swift 40 minute set, before the band re-emerged for a crunching finale of “Fluffy”, guitarist Joff Oddie crowdsurfing into the mosh, to conclude an impressive set.

 

Grabbed the list and got it signed by a polite Ellie, lurking around the merch stand afterwards, before heading off after witnessing a couple of fine new bands still finding their own identities, but treading the boards with style. A couple of names to watch – I’ll certainly be back for more Superfood – and Wolf Alice!

916 ECHO AND THE BUNNYMEN, Black Submarine, Oxford O2 Academy, Saturday 10 May 2014

The hectic early May clutch of gigs continues apace with a revisit of my old “home team” Echo And The Bunnymen, the mythical voice of my late teenhood period of post-punk musical discovery, arguably the band against whom, consciously or sub-consciously, all other bands have since been measured. A crushing disappointment at this venue in 2010, when their “Masterclass in Rock’n’Roll” instead delivered a sloppy, off-key and frankly uncaring performance from main man Ian McCulloch, they nevertheless performed a resurrection of sorts with an excellent, nailed on showing supporting James last April. With a new album “Meteorites”, due out soon and apparently having re-ignited Mac’s enthusiasm and swagger, I was intrigued as to which Bunny would hop onstage tonight. So I booked myself a ticket with expectations suitably adjusted – I just want them to do justice to their legacy, that’s all…

 

I was joined tonight by new facebook friend but old Level 3 face Rich May, and we set off early doors, parking up after a short wait in what is now the World’s Busiest Car Park (official) behind Cowley Road Tesco, meeting up with Oxford-domiciled Rich Craven and his mates before hitting the venue about 7.15. Support Black Submarine were already onstage, plying some overpowering shoegazy noise. Maudlin, morbid and morose, and featuring ethereal vocals from their female singer, they seemed intent on creating mood at the expense of tunes. Apparently featuring a couple of members of The Verve, a band I also didn’t like very much, they did little for me – sorry, for me this Black Submarine has sunk under the weight of its’ pretensions…

 

I took a wander forward, stage left, for the main event, The Bunnymen coming on fairly swiftly after the lights had dimmed at 8.25 (10 minutes after their due time – which for them is early!) and the usual Gregorian chanting backing track had kicked in. Easing in with an elegiac new number, an unkempt Mac’s voice initially seemed strained, a gravelly rasp embellishing his higher octave work, which he ascribed to, “a frog in my throat, bear with me…” prior to an unexpected, shimmeringly eerie “Nocturnal Me”. “Rescue” finally kicked the gig into life, Mac asking for the crowd to sing along, and getting his wish; however subsequent newie “Holy Moses” (“it’s a potential classic... tell us in 3 ½ minutes, but I already know,” announced Mac with his usual bluster) sailed uncomfortably close to Simple Minds’ stadium bland-out “(Don’t You) Forget About Me”.

 

Given Mac’s admission of suffering with his throat tonight, we were inclined to cut him some slack; that said, The Voice settled down, only sounding slightly strained at higher levels, nailing the lower octave lines as perfectly and hauntingly as usual. A loose-limbed “Bedbugs And Ballyhoo”, with an extended, Doors-like piano mid-section, was an early highlight, then the “Porcupine”-like wall of noise of “Constantinople” proved the best of the new numbers on display tonight. We also got some Diva-like behaviour from Mac; he took 2 goes to get new number “New Horizons” started, asking a couple of punters to, “shut the fuck up while this is playing!”, then abandoned it altogether, claiming he wasn’t, “feeling it”. The subsequent “All That Jazz” also required 2 starts, but was full of bilious ire and seething drama, Mac’s frustrations channelled perfectly, and easily the best number to that point. A stately “Bring on the Dancing Horses” was also superb, for me even eclipsing the subsequent, slightly understated “Killing Moon”, then Mac introduced “the last song – it’s 3 hours long… minus 2 hours 57…”, a magnificent “Cutter”, the huge crescendo and Mac’s soaring vocals dovetailing perfectly to end the set on a real high.

 

The band returned after the audience sang “You’ll Never Walk Alone”, Mac quipping, “we only came back because you sang that,” then “Nothing Lasts Forever”, which Mac segued in with clips from “Walk on The Wild Side”, “In The Midnight Hour”, and a Brendan Rodgers namecheck (!), drew the performance to a close, Mac by now just about done. A few odd moments, but a million times better than last time out here, for sure…

 

An early one too! This finished just after 9.45, so we repaired to a local bar for an hour of entertaining music and comic chat, also being invaded by a couple of 20 year old girls who proceeded to lead us in rowdy versions of Squeeze’s “Up The Junction” and Joe Jackson’s “Is She Really Going Out With Him”! A surreal end to a fine evening of good music and good company, and a band thankfully doing justice to their legacy tonight, and that’s all I can ask of them.

915 AMERICAN HI-FI, The Hype Theory, London Oxford Street 100 Club, Wednesday 7 May 2014

“And now I can’t wait for the Hi-Fi to come over next year…” That was my closing remark, when the Hi-Fi rhythm section Drew Parsons and Brian Nolan brought their own brand of powerpop dynamism to a scratch Lemonheads line-up, brilliantly backing up Evan Dando at Portsmouth’s gig 834 back in November 2011. Well, despite Drew’s belief that they’d be back over the following year, they made us wait a further 2, totalling 8 ¾ years since they’d last crossed the pond (gig 685, back in October 2005!); not that we’ve been counting or anything! As for what the boys have been up to since then… not much really, vocalist Stacy Jones and guitarist Jamie Arentzen have only been playing in the backing band (Stacy returning to the drum-stool to do so) of the world’s most talked-about pop star Miley Cyrus! Hey, it’s a (very lucrative, I’d imagine) paying gig, playing in arenas and stadiums, so fair play to you, boys!

 

In fact we’ve got Miley to thank for this gig in a roundabout way, as her “Bangerz” tour is currently in the UK, so with a gap between dates, the boys decided to sort a gig of their own! I jumped on tix as soon as they went on sale, before they (eventually) sold out, and Tim and Tracey therefore picked Rach and myself up just after 5 for the usual hit-and-miss run into London. Tim decided to drive all the way in, which initially looked a shrewd shout as we parked up just off Charlotte Street, about a 10 minute walk from the venue. However a chunk of Oxford Street was cordoned off due to an “incident”, necessitating an increasingly frustrating hike around the rabbit warren backstreets behind Oxford Street, eventually arriving at the venue ¾ hour after parking the car! Yikes! So we missed the first support band, and headed to the bar for much needed refreshment while main support The Hype Theory were on. They were terrible – a clumsy, ham-fisted retread of oddly dated sounding millennial Nu-punk, with an overpowering drummer, and a female vocalist berating the crowd’s indifference.

 

Our mood was however lifted by spotting Jamie in the crowd, so I tapped him on the shoulder and we caught up awhile (well, as much as the onstage noise would allow) with one of the nicest, most chilled blokes it’s my pleasure to know. He eventually drifted off to get ready, and we took a spot stage left, spotting a spectating Miley and her entourage in the cordoned-off side-stage area next to us. Come to see what her boys are capable of when they really cut loose with the rock, no doubt…

 

Just after 9.30, the Hi-Fi bounded enthusiastically onstage, as is their wont, Stacy announcing, “we’re American Hi-Fi, we’re a rock’n’roll band from Boston, Massachusetts,” (nice to see that’s not changed!), then burst into the ringing opening riff to “Surround”, the leadoff track to that classic first album, 13 years old and still sounding fresh as a spring waterfall. That was it, the years fell away and I was down the front, finding a surprisingly easy pocket of space in which to rock out throughout, and being acknowledged by Stacy and Drew midway through that first number. A blistering “Scar” followed in short order, then “The Breakup Song” cranked it up an even higher notch, and at this point they were threatening to unmoor this revered venue from its’ foundations!

 

The Hi-Fi were totally on fire tonight: always at their best when tightrope walking right on the ragged edge, often threatening to tumble into chaos but somehow managing to pull it all together, they gave a perfect demonstration of that tonight, kinetic and committed, sawing away at their guitars for all they’re worth. “Hi-Fi Killer” was an incendiary yet tune-laden delight, before Stacy paused for breath, stating, “it’s really special to be playing for you guys tonight,” then announcing new material due in the Autumn with new single “Allison” (“We’re putting it out after this show so you’ll find it on the world wide web”), the turbocharged guitar riffs proving them new apples haven’t fallen far from the Hi-Fi tree of rock.

 

We only got a couple of the new numbers tonight (“they’re harder to play!” lamented Stacy), as the Hi-Fi delved increasingly into their classic debut. Some wag called for “Wrecking Ball”, Stacy retorting with, “I can play drums on that!” before “Another Perfect Day” required a couple of starts (“oh, that’s the wrong chord!”) but was brilliantly anthemic, Stacy introducing Jamie for the perfectly-delivered “All The Young Dudes” middle-8 riff. “Blue Day” was a loose-limbed itchy jump-about fest, Stacy admitting he’d tried to rip off the Charlatans when he wrote this one! This startlingly swift set rushed by in a breathless amphetamine blast of pace, power and

crushing powerpop riffery, drawing towards a conclusion with the inevitable “Flavor Of The Weak”, Stacy warning, “here’s one we’d better not fuck up,” but then totally nailing it, the crowd filling in the middle 8 hook to Stacy’s delight. A roaring, soaring and thoroughly absorbing “Wall Of Sound” ended a magnificent set, the boys not missing a beat overall despite their 8 year absence.

 

Before the encores, a tuning lull gave me an opportunity to congratulate the onstage Stacy on his recent nuptials, drawing a, “well thank you David Rose!” response from the man, and the story of Jamie’s Best Man duties, which prompted a, “Speech! Speech!” chant directed at the bemused guitarist. The encores were amazing, “The Art Of Losing” an all-inclusive call to arms and possibly the best number on show, delivered with a swagger and a grin. Final number “Happy” was preceded by fulsome praise from an effusive Stacy, who’d allegedly never expected this kind of response (“we thought if maybe 30 or 40 people came along that’d be cool…”), and saluted the enthusiastic crowd response at length at the end.

 

That wasn’t it thought – it never is when there’s a Boston band involved! Jamie, lovely guy that he is, dashed backstage to grab me a set-list (a couple of the boys had forgotten to bring theirs on, Stacy needing to refer to Drew’s throughout!), then we had pix and conversations with him and Drew, also meeting Stacy’s lovely bride Kristen and grabbing a quick word with the predictably-besieged frontman before heading off, breathless and totally elated. This was a pain to get to, but totally worth it, a resurrection of sorts for one of the most dynamic and incendiary live acts it’s been my privilege ever to see “live”. Brilliant though The Hold Steady were on Monday, I reckon this even topped that, and might just end up being my Gig of the Year. Yup, there, I said it. And now I can’t wait for the Hi-Fi to come back over again… when the album is out!