1,343 MATTHEW CAWS, London Rough Trade East, Wednesday 4th September 2024

 

A late shout, this one, but once I heard about it, it was pretty much essential… Matthew Caws, leader of pretty much the best band making music over the last decade or so, the majestic and heartwarming Nada Surf, announced a run of record store appearances ostensibly promoting ‘da Surf’s forthcoming album “Mirror Moon”, out at the end of the month. I’d already booked for their November Islington date (unfortunately the closest to the ‘don on a limited run) but had no hesitation grabbing a dice ticket for this one too (again, the closest to the ‘don on a limited run!). Nada Surf have, for me, produced a consistently magnificent body of work across their almost 30 (!) years rivalling anyone else in rock ever (yup, ever…), journeying from their 90’s US underground alt-rock roots into all-encompassing and life-affirming purveyors of warm, heartfelt and melodic rock incandescence, so “Mirror Moon” is likely to be another top-quality addition to said canon, and an early AOTY candidate for me!

Stu was up for it as well, sorting very cheap train tix thanks to the missus’ work concessions, so we headed off just before 5, catching up on this year’s events given that this, rather disgracefully, was the first time I’d seen the man since Desperate Journalist’s Dareshack gig last October (gig 1,295)! Yikes! A slow tube to Aldgate East rather curtailed our pre-gig Brick Lane curry plans, however, so we hit the venue at doors, grabbing near-front spots, house left, and greeting young Mr. Caws as he wandered out of backstage. Our catching up took us right up to the appointed hour of 8 p.m., whereupon the lights faded to a dark blood red and Matthew took the stage, turned on the standard lamp next to his mic stand, and quietly strummed the intro to the yearning “Inside Of Love” on a shiny new acoustic, to utter hushed silence from the audience. 

“Friend Hospital” and “Never Not Together” deep cut “Come Get Me” followed, Matthew elaborating on “CGM”’s subject matter with, “it’s about the subway; I do a lot of my thinking on the subway; it’s like the shower commute!” He then treated us to the first of the newies, the upbeat round reel lyric and brain hugging choral joy of Track of the Year candidate “In Front Of Me Now”, preceded by a warning on the dangers of multitasking (Matt having recently flooded his house while vacuuming with noise cancelling headphones on!), the singer then rather ironically missing a few couplets but styling it out with this usual affable grace. A Minor Alps number, “Buried Plans” then followed, Matt teasing us with the suggestion that he and MA partner Juliana Hatfield “may do another [MA record] one day,” and wrestling with a temperamental squishy beat pedal during this number. Lower-key newie “New Propeller” and the strident cascading hook outro of “Looking For You” then preceded a reverential singalong to a hushed “Blonde On Blonde”, before, for me, the highlight of the night… Matt challenged himself to do “a long complicated one”, choosing the dramatic, undulating change of pace of “Mathilda” over “See These Bones” and preceding it with a story of his youth, in particular his father making a safe space for the young and rather feminine Matthew to be himself, concluding said story with a heartfelt, “thanks to the dads who let their sons be who they are”. Lovely.

A comment from the relaxed and unusually gregarious Matt about running over time (“we’ve gone over but I want to give you value for your hundred grand ticket!”) led into a story of the band treating him to the new guitar he was using tonight; then a singalong “Blizzard Of ‘77” preceded tonight’s finale... Matt commented, “it’s been the joy of a lifetime to play to really amazing audiences!” before bursting into an unexpected, upbeat and quickfire strumalong “Hyperspace”. Woah! Great though it was, I couldn’t do my usual thing of complimenting drummer Ira, who normally propels this one “live” with octopus-limbed gusto; no matter though, as this concluded a quite enchanting set from a marvellous and relaxed performer.

A short wait in the signing queue then got us some face time with the Star of the Show, and I chatted with him about “Matilda”’s premise, referencing my and Rachel’s unconditional support of our daughter Jami on their journey of gender exploration, changing their birth name and finding their “tribe”, which drew a comment of, “you’re one of the good ones,” from Matthew. Coming from a man who’s essentially composed of pure joy and sunshine, that’s praise indeed! We eventually tore ourselves away and dodged the Brick Lane curry barkers (too late for one now, sadly), settling for a pasty on the 10.40 train out of Paddington, then a wander back from the station, home for midnight. A quite delightful evening in the presence of a wonderful singer and (on tonight’s evidence) storyteller; now, bring on that November full band Nada Surf show…!

 

The Set:

 Inside Of Love

Friend Hospital

Come Get Me

In Front Of Me Now

Buried Plans

Oh Yoko

New Propeller

Looking For You

Blonde On Blonde

Mathilda

Intel And Dreams

Blizzard Of ‘77

Hyperspace

1,342 THOMAS DOLBY, Martin McAloon, Wolverhampton Wulfrun Hall, Sunday 18th August 2024

 

This hectic 3-in-3 closes out with a rare excursion to the Black Country; only my 3^rd ever gig in Wolverhampton, and this time it’s a debut on my “Dance Card” for a gent I’ve nonetheless admired since I was a teenager… I’d first come across Thomas Dolby in 1981 on his debut 7” single, an embryonic slab of brooding synthpop called “Urges”, which also featured an equally excellent B-side in the hypnotically austere “Leipzig”. If I’d enjoyed that debut, however, I was utterly blown away by the follow-up… “Europa And The Pirate Twins” and its’ story of unrequited friendship set against a Cold War background, was an utterly devastating and zeitgeist-grabbing slice of utter synthpop euphoria, joyous and heartbreaking in equal measure, and worthy of its’ place as an absolute classic of its’ genre, alongside the likes of “I Travel” and “Empire State Human”. Dolby, for me, never approached that level again, his subsequent string of 80’s pop hits nonetheless being quirky and entertaining, with Dolby himself adopting a slightly befuddled mad professor persona, at one point roping in slightly befuddled mad TV professor Magnus Pyke to stridently exclaim “Science!” on his best-known 80’s work.

I’d recently been revisiting the synthpop side of my musical heritage with the likes of Blancmange and Heaven 17 but given Dolby had eschewed his 80’s pop career in favour of film and computer game soundtracking and US tech company consulting, our paths were seemingly unlikely to ever cross “live”. So, when the man announced a rare-as-rocking-horse-shit UK jaunt, I jumped at it, particularly as setlist research suggested “Europa” is a staple of the set. Happily, so did (relatively) local former TTP friend Rog, so after a testing 2 hour mainly cross-country drive, we met up in a deserted Wolverhampton town centre, nonetheless enjoying a Turkish meal and a long-overdue catch-up in the one open restaurant we found, before hitting the venue just after 7.30. A seated one, this, so I took my spot in row K for support Martin McAloon, formerly of 80’s soul boy indie chart botherers Prefab Sprout alongside his brother and PS main-man Paddy. I was never much of a fan of their crafted and melodic but (for me) anodyne 80’s pop, and Martin’s performance tonight gave me absolutely no desire to revisit them. From the off it seemed to be one bum note after another, McAloon then forgetting the mid-section lyric to “When Love Breaks Down” – only one of ‘da Sprouts two best-known numbers! – and the whole first line to a later “Barney”. OK, he was very realistic about it (“let’s manage expectations!” being one line, in response to an audience applause on introducing one number), but frankly it came across to me as unprepared and unprofessional. A muted crowd singalong to the hook of “King Of Rock’n’Roll” (whilst McAloon bafflingly took it upon himself to sing the chorus of T Rex’ “Get It On”) suggested I might not have been the only one thinking that way, and a bit of an out-of-tune balls-up version of my favourite PS number “Faron Young” was the sour icing on a complete mess of a support set.

Met up with Rog (who’d sensibly stayed in the bar) and chatted with a couple of gents here from Coventry, before taking my seat again just before the lights dimmed and a single key note played as intro music. Thomas Dolby, slim, casually dressed and with his recent new coiffure knocking 10 years off his 65, sauntered onstage, asked, “can you hear me?” through a vocoder, then eased into a stripped back cover of New Order’s pioneering synth dance crossover “Blue Monday”! A surprising yet entertaining start, then, followed up by an excellent “Evil Twin Brother”, Dolby’s largely spoken word vocals and eerie synth backwash painting an evocative pulp novel picture of rainy alleyways and police sirens. Then “Europa”… 

The unmistakeable 6-beat staccato opening of “Europa And The Pirate Twins” heralded a brilliantly clear, thankfully extended (I’d have been happy for it to go on all night, really…!) and utterly majestic version, Dolby abandoning his keyboard set-up to overlay some strident harmonica and lead a clap-along as I danced in my seat as best I could, throwing arms up for the hook. As it ended, I noticed Rog only a couple of rows behind me and joined him in the empty seat next to him, remarking, “we might as well all go home now, we’re not going to hear anything to top that tonight!” Maybe not, but close… Anyway, the haunting “One Of Our Submarines”, next up, featured a bubbling synth undercurrent with WWII footage on the screen backdrop, and a brief nod to Gary Numan’s “Cars”, Dolby remarking at its conclusion, “I’ve just been on an 80’s US tour… it was clear that all [the crowds] wanted to hear was a medley of my hit!” “I Love You Goodbye”’s initial bossa-nova esque feel ceded to an evocative rainswept “LA Woman”-like keyboard refrain; “Spice Train” saw a belly dancer film to augment its heavy swampy middle Eastern tinged rhythm; and “Budapest By Blimp” was an expansive travelogue, folding in a late night jazz café feel with some decidedly Scott Walker/ Glenn Gregory-esque baritone crooner vocals from Dolby. The man can sing, no messin’…

However, next up was a highlight which almost – almost – approached “Europa” in its’ widescreen magnificence for me; Dolby shared his experience of meeting his hero David Bowie, warning us, “you might need a hankie for the next song” then delivered a poignant yet triumphant and genuinely affecting version of the man’s “Heroes”, accompanied by footage of 1985’s “Live Aid” Wembley gig, where, of course, Dolby played keyboards during Bowie’s performance. Wow. Just… wow. 

Following an understandably lengthy ovation, Dolby invited us all to our feet (finally!!!) for the funky brass blare of the quirky “Hyperactive” and inevitable set closer “She Blinded Me With Science”, the 2 original 80’s videos being played on the screen in accompaniment… well, apart from “other celebrities” such as Hilary Clinton (!), JFK (!!) and “Breaking Bad”’s duo of Walter and Jesse (!!!) joining Magnus Pyke in the “Science!!” declamation onscreen. An entertaining way to close out a set waaaay better than I’d anticipated, Dolby coming across as a natural showman, relaxed, confident and urbane throughout. A couple of encores, including the stark, elegiac and Bowie-esque “Airwaves” saw out a thoroughly excellent proper performance from the man, who deservedly took in a lengthy ovation at the end. I made a beeline to the front and was rewarded with the stage mixing desk’s list (yay!), before collecting my thoughts and chatting with Rog outside. Eventually bade farewell to my old friend, then hit the road for an equally painful extraction from Wolverhampton, the 10 or so miles to M5 J2 seemingly taking forever, forcing me to stop every hundred yards or so at every! Single! Fucking! Red! Light! Eventually back to the ‘don for a weary 12.30. However, on reflection I won’t remember the journey or the crap support, I’ll just remember “Europa”, “Heroes” and mostly the affable, cultured genius of a true Renaissance man, namely Mr. Thomas Dolby!

1,341 BEARS IN TREES, Tiny Umbrellas, Southampton Joiner’s Arms, Saturday 17th August 2024

 

And following Coach Party, here’s another band I’m currently seeing rather a lot of… Third time this calendar year for Croydon’s finest “Dirtbag Boyband” Bears In Trees, my daughter Jami’s favourite music makers that don’t rhyme with Trailer Lift, and a band who not only entertained us both with their own wide-eyed brand of inclusive, affirmative jangly indie pop at Bristol Fleece in April (gig 1,324), but who also brought the fun and sunshine to a noisy Friday afternoon at “2000 Trees” last month, vocalist Callum also recording a video message for Jami after their buoyant pop set. Chap! So, despite this gig filling in a blank space (that Trailer Lift again… grrr…) between 2 pre-arranged shows and making this a 3-in-3-nights run for me, we couldn’t miss this one at The Joiners, one of my favourite venues and one for which (on the band’s insistence, as they advised me at “Trees”) lifted their usual 18+ criteria!

So, a late Saturday afternoon drive down South got us parked up just around the corner at 6.15; the queue of young fans already stretched down the alley to the side of the venue, so we jumped in and did shuttle runs for food (well, I held our spot as Jami went for chips, at least!). Ran into a Chinese takeaway-bound Callum, thanking him again for the vid, and Jami took the opportunity to give him a friendship bracelet! In at 7.30 doors (we miscalculated, thinking it was 7!) and grabbed a spot near the front, house right. Tiny Umbrellas, AKA the softly spoken and very young solo guitarist DT, was a very hushed opener, on early at 7.50 and playing pastoral, introspective and melancholy material on the awkwardness of nascent young relationships (viz an early “Friendzone” and “100 Poems” in particular, in which she called for audience members to write “purge” letters for a forthcoming video). Think Cavetown’s quieter moments, albeit turned down a few hundred notches… luckily, the young crowd was often pindrop silent during her performance! The final number “Just For Company”, which featured a left/right crowd call and response singalong, was as rocking as it got for Tiny Umbrellas (“like ones in a cocktail?” asked Jami…!)…

A quick run back to the car to dump J’s merch, then Bears In Trees joined us in short order, just after 8.30! The Woodentopsy skiffle/ rockabilly rhythm and Summery C86 guitar jangle of opener “Seaside”, apt for this Summer seaside tour, kicked things off, before Callum inquired, “are you ready to dance a lot?” to cheers from their young and devoted massive. The irrepressible “Heaven Sent Is A Coffee Cup” not only got the crowd dancing, but as usual saw Callum depart the stage and join in the pogoing mosh at the front! 

Thereafter, Bears In Trees delivered another fun, all-action, all-inclusive “live” set, revelling in and reinforcing the strong bond with their young LGBTQ+ -savvy crowd, who often sang along to every word. Callum fired a bubble machine (apparently acquired from Aldi in Salisbury on the way down!) during “Henry Says” (“about a friend who throws rocks at other rocks!”) then bemoaned the bubble juice which subsequently got on his keys (“it’s really slippery!”). The band delved back for oldie “Sitting Pretty” (Ian deadpanning, “[from] 2019? 2017? Even I didn’t like us in 2017!!”) before Callum resorted to another prop, this time an inflatable cactus which members of the audience were invited to use as hoopla target practice – unsuccessfully, I might add (“Exeter [last night] were much better!” remarking Callum).

A “mood changer”, namely the more stripped-back, plaintive and melancholy “Confetti”, was nonetheless a very lovely mid-set highlight, featuring a reverentially hushed singalong, Ian commenting at its’ conclusion, “most of the time we make you feel sad in a happy way; [that one] makes you feel sad in a sad way…” However, the soaring hook of the subsequent and ebullient “Injured Crow” brought back the mood of upbeat buoyancy, before a blind audience vote resulted in the band again delving back, this time for 2017’s “The Musical”, a pacey and ramshackly embryonic indie strumalong number recalling early 80’s James, no less! Set “closer” “Hot Chocolate” (a likely inclusion on my 2024 “Best Of” Compo CD) was a superb keytar-led breathless indie banger and the “best of” of tonight for me as well, the guys again taking stage front, line abreast, for the goony dance at the denouement. 

A couple of encores, rounding off with the jangly call-and-response of “Fresh Concrete” closed out another fine Bears In Trees set, and another lovely night out with the daughter of the house. Early too, as we grabbed drummer George’s list then, with Jami’s feet aching, took off well before 10! Home just after 11.20 after another thoroughly upbeat and effervescent Bears In Trees gig. Happy to come back anytime!

1,340 COACH PARTY, Alien Chicks, Panda Swim, Guildford The Boileroom, Friday 16th August 2024

 

Coach Party, again??? Hey, you bet’cha…!

Coach Party, Isle Of Wight’s finest band since the Blackgang Chine Dinosaurs (Jr.), announced this one-off Guildford date earlier this year, so, having shlepped it down to the ‘ford last year for a Stayawakes gig (gig 1.281) and established it’s not too far actually, I eagerly booked to avail myself once again of their blend of amped-up, punked-up snappy, snarky indie pop. (In the process, I’d also discovered a Cardiff CP gig I didn’t know about, and hit that one too, gig 1,332 being a very accomplished and precise performance from the CP boys and girls). So, here we go again, round 8 for me, with this increasingly special band…

Andy was up for this one as well (a family issue preventing Stu from joining us as planned), so the two of us wended our way cross country to the ‘ford, catching up in the process (this rather disgracefully being the first gig I’ve been to with Andy this year. Yikes!). Found a street parking spot just round the corner from this pub venue (result!) and wandered in just after doors. My first time at this place and hopefully not my last; a superb scuzzy little room smeared with old gig posters and reminiscent of the likes of the Joiners and the Jericho, with a beer garden to the side. My kind of place! Panda Swim, AKA solo acoustic guy Stu Spiller, kicked off in short order; a fellow islander (indeed, in expanded band form Panda Swim have previously featured Coach Party’s Joe and Guy!), he delivered some spooky yet tuneful numbers with a distinctly jangly C86 vibe and very Pixies-ish song construction, in a high nasal register. “Dinosaur”, a moody piece with a big ascending chorus was my favourite of a diverting and decent melodic set.

CP drummer Guy was standing next to me for ‘da Swim, so I asked about a possible interview for my mate Roger’s fanzine “Pig Hill”. Happily, he was up for it, and he and Steph then gave me a few minutes at the front of the venue, providing some entertaining chatty answers to my disappointingly basic questions. Result! Back in (greeting recent gig face Madison on the way) for main support Alien Chicks. A 3-piece, their set was a herky jerky, gabbly, stop-start, speed up/ slow down, 19 to the dozen tumbling landslide, at best recalling the discordant mutant surf punk of 90’s faves Wonky Alice or (more obviously) Primus, and at worst a confusing cacophonous mess of haphazard rhythms frankensteined together. One sinister bass-led number gave me “Holiday In Cambodia” vibes; the next featured the “Teddy Bear’s Picnic” in between 2 breakneck guitar workouts. Mental! But better than Coach Party’s last support at that Cardiff gig…!

The place, even for the support, was getting uncomfortably hot, so I joined Andy in the cool of the beer garden for some entertaining rock chat with some affable and knowledgeable locals. Hi guys! The witching hour approached, so t’was back into the very aptly named (tonight at least!) Boileroom and the edge of the crammed floor, house left, for Coach Party, bang on 9.30. “Fucking hell, it’s hot!” exclaimed Jess as she took the stage – you’re not wrong there, girl! Seemingly in deference to the heat, Coach Party eased into their set with the slow burn, sleazoid march of “All I Wanna Do Is Hate” and a poppy “Can’t Talk, Won’t”.

“I’m fighting for my life over here!” cried Jess after a breathless “FLAG”, the uncomfortable heat obviously affecting everyone, but they soldiered on regardless, “Hi Baby” being as buoyant and effervescent as ever and oldie “Shit TV” (“throwing it back a little”) a moody, metronomic delight. After a chat about Jess’ Flying V (“I love it but it’s just a phase!”) the band sensibly took it down a notch or two, slowing the dreampoppy “Be That Girl” even further to bring the lovely circular underpinning riff to the fore, for a mid-set highlight. “Breakdown” then built the momentum towards the set climax, a “world premiere” of excellent, inclusive newie “Girls” maintained that with its’ impressive terrace chant roar of a chorus, then the final double whammy of an amped-up “What’s The Point In Life” and the savage nihilistic punk scream of “Parasite” finally got me squeezing through for a jig in the mosh, ending on a high note.

Jess handed me Guy’s list and we headed off sharpish, getting confused out of Guildford but thereafter zooming home, back just after midnight. Despite the uncomfortable heat, this was another great gig for number 8 from Coach Party – and, having just booked for their headlining slot at October’s “Night Currents” all-day Festival at Portsmouth Wedgewood Rooms in October, number 9’s not too far off…!

1,339 THE SHUDDERS, Jol Rose, Swindon The Tuppenny, Thursday 25th July 2024

The second week in a row up The Tuppenny for their “Thursday Night Music Club”, and this time it’s for country/ folk Swindon scene veterans The Shudders, arguably the ‘don’s answer to Buffalo Springfield or Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young, and of course featuring my good friend Tim on bass guitar. I’d not seen the boys since the inaugural “My Dad’s” Festival in August 2021 (gig 1,187) and since then Tim had been rehearsing again with his old 101 bandmate Andy Ashley, so I thought the next time I’d see him play, it would actually be with a reformed (and possibly renamed?) 101… However, this opportunity to catch an acoustic iteration of The Shudders presented itself, timed with Logan also playing a few of their tracks on his phone playlists of late, so why not, eh?

I picked Logan up from his gym sesh and parked up behind the Hop, greeting Tim and the rest of the band, plus a whole horde of Swindon gig folks (Paj and Avril, Paul, Andy, Dubs – even Beef rocked up later!), before grabbing a front row pew for opener Jol Rose. Another veteran of the Swindon music scene, albeit a gent I’d not seen “live” before, his buoyant solo acoustic guy shenanigans veered between seriously old school galloping Elvis/ Sun Records honky tonk rock’n’roll (opener “Bangalore Boogie” and a later “Two Ton Trixie”), occasional Lou Reed-esque laconic yet wallowing balladry (“All Alone Again”) and some 60’s Dylan-esque political protest essays (“Liars And Thieves” and “Palestine Free” both striking a chord), all delivered with oodles of strident harmonica and effervescent and chatty enthusiasm. So chatty in fact, that he had to cut a couple of songs from his set, but still finished with a rousing singalong to “We’re Gonna Make Some Hay”, a song about getting old and seizing the day, which I’m all up for. Overall, a fun opening set, despite the occasional tech issues (which Jol initially put down to something loose rattling around in his guitar!) from an entertaining performer and possible distant cousin – in Swindon, who knows for sure?! 

The Shudders then set up in fairly short order, and I showed them a pic of the first time I took Logan to a Shudders gig – May 2008 (gig 746), when my then 10-month-old son was perched on my shoulders! Introducing the band, Danny made reference to said pic, suggesting we re-enact it tonight. Not much chance of that…! The boys, seated line abreast, with drummer Jim atop his beatbox slightly behind vocalist Danny, eased into the repetitive hook and easy, melodic refrain of Byrds/ late period Teenage Fanclub-esque opener “Get Out Of Here”, setting the tone for tonight’s performance and thereafter commenting, “we’re going to destroy all the happiness Jol brought [to his set]!”, before the melancholy yet singalong “No Man’s Land”.

This was again an understated yet eminently melodic set from the boys, touching on all aspects on their canon but sensibly concentrating on the slower, more pensive 3-part harmony-driven 70’s Laurel Canyon folk/country rock-tinged material, more suited to this acoustic setting. However, I particularly enjoyed the bouncier and powerpoppy “Sorry”, initially abandoned (“brain fart!” admitted Liam) yet revisited later in the set, the unplanned, pub-wide rousing clap- and singalong to the Irish jig of oldie “Lost And Broke”, and the equally unplanned and pacier set closer “Words Of A Fool” (featuring a positively Smiths-esque middle 8 guitar break from Liam, according to Logan!), although the entire set was delivered with understated charm and bonhomie from the band, relaxed and at ease in front of friends and family.

Ed persuaded them back for an encore; not “Standing In The Rain” as constantly requested by one vocal punter, but the sprawling and widescreen sea shanty of “Mary’s Grace” (“[this encore is] so depressing you’ll wish we hadn’t bothered!”, Liam had remarked beforehand). A fine way to re-connect with The Shudders after an absence of a few years from my “Dance Card”, and nice to catch up with Tim and the boys. Quick compliments and farewells before a quick drive home after another fun “Tuppenny Thursday Night Music Club” evening out for Logan and myself!

1,338 LOS CAMPESINOS! Bristol Exchange, Sunday 21st July 2024 (matinee)

 

This one came at me suddenly; a slight flip on the “CD+show+signing” events that Bristol Rough Trade have been recently well-known for (essentially, either the CD or the gig is free, whichever way you look at it, so I’m up for that anytime!), this Specialist Subject promotion promised a CD and late afternoon performance at Bristol Exchange from veteran Welsh cerebral and political indie pop collective Los Campesinos! As I mentioned in last weekend’s “2000 Trees” write up of their excellent Thursday evening Forest Stage set (gig 1,336), they’d briefly darted across my musical vision in 2011, their rollicking “The Black Bird, The Dark Slope” from their “Hello Sadness” album making it on to my 2011 “Best Of” CD, but shamefully I’d let them slip away until their inclusion on the “2000 Trees” bill prompted a revisit.

(I think I may have thought that they’d actually split up, but that’s no excuse for not doing my due diligence and checking that out, but anyway…)

So, after a damn fine Martha-like (or, given their veteran status, maybe Martha are Los Campesinos!-like?) performance of effervescent but politically charged strumalong guitar indie pop at “Trees”, I gleefully booked for this performance when I heard about it. OK, it’s acoustic, but that just brings to light the quality of the songwriting, right? Plus, free CD copy of their brand new, 7^th (!) album “All Hell”… Result!

So I passed on the usual Sunday afternoon trip to my missus’ ‘rents place, heading off down a sun-kissed M4 after watching the Hungarian Grand Prix, and parking up opposite the venue just after 5.15. I’d actually done the journey on trust, as I’d not received the ordered gig ticket, although the CD was posted out in advance and arrived the day before. Happily, the doorman had me on the list of names, so in I went, milling around and meeting up with recent Bristol gig buddy Marc for a chat before vocalist Gareth led 4/7ths (or 57.14% if you prefer!) of Los Campesinos! onto the stage. “We’ve got to fuck around [and set up] a bit…”, the frontman remarked, before finishing the set-up and announcing, “OK, you can clap again now!” We then had the heads-up for this afternoon’s festivities; a number of new songs, then some oldies, before an impromptu signing sesh; “we’re going to fuck up, you’re going to find it endearing…!”

So opener “Psychic Wound” set the tone, a mellow and melancholy strumalong in this format, Gareth announcing at its’ conclusion, “[our performance] is going to be like that; only worse, as that’s one we’re good at!” “Long Throes” actually featured some nice 2 part harmonies from Gareth and his keyboardist sister Kim amidst the acerbic and biting lyricism; the darker, more introspective “To Hell In A Handjob” was preceded by a debate about stupid lyrics sounding even stupider with the house lights on and the crowd visible (as was the case this afternoon); and “Feast Of Tongues” was my favourite of the new material, some poignant “ooh ooh” harmonies from Kim leading to a slow-burn building melody.

Gareth plugged the forthcoming September SWX gig by noting someone had written “shit” next to the band’s name on the SWX billboard (“I’m from Midsomer Norton so it must have been a childhood bully!”) before heading off into more familiar (well, for the aficionados anyway) material with a banjo-picking “Glue Me”, the rather wordy lyric featuring a reference to a “Yeboah volley” (not the only obscure footy reference tonight). The subsequent short, snappy “Hate For The Island” was introduced as, “one we’ve never played before!”, the knowledgeable crowd still singing the hook back, then “For Flotsam” was a bullish and buoyant galloper (ace at “Trees” as well, that one). Gareth then thanked the fans for pushing “All Hell” to the fringes of the charts; “it’s not a very Los Campesinos! thing, but we want to chart to stick it to our haters, which IS a very Los Campesinos! thing!” before “Adult Acme Stigmata”, the new album’s final track, fittingly closed matters, Gareth and Kim then leaping offstage and emerging at the corner for signatures. I was second in, enjoying a brief conversation with Gareth about the recent election (well, they are a politically oriented band!) and finding some significant common ground in our thinking, before heading off, home about 8. Another fine – if slightly different! – Los Campesinos! performance which made me regret not keeping up with them – and I’m not likely to make that SWX show either, as September’s already looking utterly rammed for gigs – but the very fine “All Hell” at least looks to be a great jumping (back) on point!

1,337 LONELY TOURIST, Chris Webb, Swindon The Tuppenny, Thursday 18th July 2024

 

The first of a planned two-in-two weeks availing myself of the oft-eclectic choice of The Tuppenny’s “Thursday Night Music Club”, this, in the company of Bristol-domiciled expat Scotsman Lonely Tourist! Our claymores had first crossed in 2014, with a couple of entertaining support slots to the ubiquitous Gaz Brookfield (gigs 904 and 925), the erstwhile Mr. Paul Tierney delivering a slight flip on the folky punky singer songwriter template, with some wry melodic indie-tinged acoustica, relaxed urbane banter, and slightly offbeat lyrical subject matter (flies and namesake footballers coming to mind). To my shame, our paths had not crossed for nearly a decade, Lonely Tourist in the process changing from a “he” to a “they”; no, not a declaration of non-binary status, but an addition of fellow Bristolian songsmith Chris Webb to the line-up as a luxury wingman. Time to catch up on the LT two-piece up the Tupp then!

Drove up the hill with Logan and parked up behind the Hop, greeting the likes of Gaz, Ben Sydes and of course our performers for this evening. Grabbed a drink and a watching brief to the side of the stage, house left as Chris Webb kicked off a solo support spot, introducing himself as, “half of Lonely Tourist!” “Singing To The Sea” was a pacey little opener with an undulating, almost flamenco feel, underpinned by Chris’ usual understated, relaxed delivery juxtaposed with some furiously fast and intricate, almost virtuoso guitar plucking. “The Heat Is On” (no, not that one…!) featured a pacey stream of consciousness vocal delivery – a lot of words to pack in for this one, but I’m fine with that! – and Chris then regaled us with a story about his temporary ill-fitting tooth (!) before his next, jolly number was interrupted firstly by the man forgetting the words, then by a passing ambulance! Nonetheless, composure was maintained, and a fine little vignette was concluded by “Hallowed Floor”, a moodier number with an almost Doors Whisky a Go Go vibe. Nice start!

Had a drink and a chat with old mate Andy Lobb before the Lonely Tourist 2-piece took the stage, Webb backing up main man Mr. Tierney. Opener “Shoulder” was a taut, pacey strumalong with a somewhat windswept Celtic feel, before Paul advised us, “the last time I was in Swindon I was thrown out of The Glue Pot!” The subsequent “Tom And The Library” featured a fun lyric about pop star auto/ biographies, including a diss for Morrissey’s rather bitter and chewy tome; “Four Phone Calls” had a distinct Teenage Fanclub/ Byrds-ian mellow and Summery melodic vibe, with some splendid 2 part harmonies from the boys; and a well observed cover of Aztec Camera’s 80’s sparkly chart botherer “Somewhere In My Heart” nevertheless had me singing along to the smooth pop hook. I also really enjoyed the (possibly unintentionally) funny “Dead Man’s Stapler”, the Tuppenny collective joining in on the hook and prompting Paul to remark, “this pub likes a grim singalong!” 

Newie “Very Bones” was another mellow Teenage Fanclub hazy singalong, Paul then declaiming, “people keep asking for Proclaimers and Travis; I’m being racially profiled!” Oops, hope that’s not what I’m doing by comparing some of LT’s lazy Summery melodies to Bellshill’s finest! Hey ho… “Watch Out For The Sharks” was a workaday story of gigging folk (Lonely Tourist’s answer to Raze*Rebuild’s “Face For Radio” maybe), then an entertaining, relaxed near-hour was brought to a close with the inevitable “Ballad Of Paul Tierney”, a workaday story of lower division footballing folk (!).

Ed twisted the boys’ arms for an encore, a faithful rendition of The Dubliners’ “The Leaving Of Liverpool” the folkiest thing on the menu tonight, and I then enjoyed a brief chat with Paul, lamenting my lack of familiarity with tonight’s nonetheless entertaining material due to the 10 year gig gap, but picking up a couple of CDs from him to hopefully make up for it. Farewells with all and sundry before Logan and I hit the road for a quick trundle down the hill and home. Good night out, this, so I’m determined not to leave it another 10 years before catching Lonely Tourist again!