Saturday, 30 December 2017

1,063 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, Supp. Slow Reader’s Club, Bristol Thekla, Friday 17th November 2017


Without a shadow of a doubt, Desperate Journalist are easily my favourite and most significant new musical discoveries of 2017, and are showing potential to be a “live” obsession of mine in the same vein as Seafood, The Julie Dolphin et al, so I'm certainly not going to pass up on any opportunity to see them "live" right now, particularly after their October mini-tour was a non-starter for me as it coincided with a family holiday in Kos! Thankfully, they then announced a short series of dates in support of gloomy types Slow Readers Club, and I gleefully snapped up a ticket for the Thekla gig, notwithstanding the fact that "The Dirty Boat" has become somewhat stranded on the wrong side of some confusing new traffic layouts in the centre of Bristol! Still, where there's rock, there's a way...

A perfect storm of not only the afore-mentioned new traffic priorities, a Friday night in November (early Chrimbo shopping around Cabot Circus! Yikes!) and a stupidly early on-stage time (7 piggin’ 30!) had me leaving pretty much as soon as I'd gotten home from work. Glad I did, as a ridiculous 1 ¾ hour journey, including immensely frustrating queues to clear the M4/M32 Junction, saw me parking up at doors, barely half an hour before they were on! Well, I was there at least, so I took my spot down the front, next to some beer-balancing SRC fans, who assured me I'd be impressed by the headliners. We'll see... but firstly, there’s the reason I’m here…!

Desperate Journalist took the stage prompt at 7.30, with a startlingly agenda-setting opener "Control", an explosion of soaring thoroughbred intensity and passion, powerful and strident. Then straight into the more flippant, Smiths-esque "Why Are You So Boring?", and that was it for me; I was jumping about like a loon, mirroring vocalist Jo Bevan's manic onstage pogo-ing. This lot don't fuck about with easing themselves in; it's the "full-on" mode straight from the outset!


Desperate Journalist were astonishing tonight, an object lesson in intensity and kinetic energy, the utterly riveting presence of vocalist Jo Bevan again at the heart of it throughout, with her marvellously powerful and yearning voice to the fore in the mix, her performance again thrillingly toeing the line between ferocious commitment and almost contemptuous detachment. The taut, eerie, Cure-like opening to "Hollow" was flesh-creepingly splendid, Simon Drowner's growling bass a feature, before Rob Hardy's haunting 80's pseudo-goth licks took over for the middle-eight. A newie ("about being sad... you'd be surprised..."       commented Jo ironically) elicited a chant of "journalist!" from the crowd, and by the building hook and emotion-soaked wall-of-noise middle-eight of "Be Kind" it was evident that this band have already risen above the sum of their influences into a unique, fully-formed and potentially very special band indeed. All too soon, the magnificent amphetamine rush of "Resolution" ended a quite brilliant set. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and it was over - holy hell, that was intense!

Grabbed a list, grabbed my breath and grabbed some merch, then headed out to dump it in the car, happily running into the band unloading outside. Enjoyed a chat with this young and enthusiastic band of clear 80's post-punk aficionados, with Simon remarking on my Chameleons t-shirt and also namechecking the overlooked yet excellent Scars, and Jo effusively praising XTC and relating a recent fan encounter with Dave Gregory!


Broke off the chat to check out headliners The Slow Readers Club, playing to a sold-out and fanatical crowd. They featured a solid synth base to their gloomy post-punk material, a purposeful opener recalling Editors' more electronic work, particularly in the vocalist's deep and resonant Tom Smith-like inflections. The next number was a bit more discordant (also a bit out of tune, to these ears) but overall suffered badly in comparison to the dynamism of their openers, and I gave them a couple more numbers before heading off for a considerably easier drive home. On another day I would likely have really enjoyed them, but tonight for me was definitely not their night. Tonight belonged squarely to a band who are rapidly becoming a very great one indeed;     tonight belonged to Desperate Journalist!

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