“I’m
a full-on Chameleons convert now!” was how I finished my gig report of gig
1,038, after finally dispelling a 35-year ignorance of this seminal band of Mancunian
post-punks with last May’s stellar Fleece gig… truer words were ne’er spoken,
as I’ve pretty much been playing their 3 80’s albums (1983’s debut “Script Of
The Bridge”, 1985’s “What Does Anything Mean? Basically” and 1986’s “Strange
Times”) obsessively at work, coming to the realisation that had I latched on to
this lot at the time, they would have seriously challenged Echo And The
Bunnymen for the title of my favourite band back then and I would likely have
seen them 20+ times by now, and resolving to take every opportunity to see them
in future. They’d drip-fed notifications of 2018 UK gigs onto their Facebook
page, and, lacking anywhere closer, I’d sorted tix for their London show. When,
eventually, they announced a gig at Southampton’s excellent Joiner’s Arms, I
booked for that as a likely alternative, given that London gig would be 2nd
of 3 in 4 days…
So,
Friday evening saw a false start off to Southampton (forgot my phone – d’oh!),
driving through a bit of M4 drizzle into warm sun on the A34, hitting the South
Coast just after 8 and parking up around the corner, literally a stone’s throw
from the door. One of the many things I love about this place… Already busy and
full of older chaps in black jeans and a variety of punk- and post-punk
t-shirts (Cramps, Theatre Of Hate and New Model Army were on display tonight,
along with my bright pink REM “Reckoning” one!), ready to greet openers
Inferiority Complex at 8.25. A trio of similar vintage to the headliners and
audience, they played some short and snappy keyboard and bass-led numbers, all
claustrophobic and dense post-punk reminiscent of Comsat Angels and early New
Order, with echoey, barked vocals and Hooky-like bass riffs. Stronger on mood
and menace than on tunes, they were a decent and apposite start, but the set
eventually felt workmanlike and repetitive, so I chilled outside awhile before
the main event.
Back
in to find a spot down the busy and expectant front, along with the
knowledgeable and devoted crowd – the epitome of a cult band, this lot, with
most of tonight’s crowd doubtless convinced for some time that Chameleons are
the Greatest Band In The History of Rock, and utterly baffled at anyone who
might consider otherwise. It was therefore a lengthy and reverential reception
which greeted sole original Chameleon Mark Burgess and his charges (no Yves
this time – boo!) onstage at 9.30, the monolithic Burgess remarking, tongue
firmly in cheek, “we’re Chameleons, we’re going to perform our brand new album
“Script Of The Bridge”!”
True
to his word too – tonight was billed as a 35th (!) anniversary of
said debut, so they set about playing it start to finish. In my (admittedly
limited to the last 18 months) experience, “Script” is a beautifully judged mix
of expansive and soaring post-punk, and bleak and claustrophobic proto-goth,
reflecting the troubled times of its’ creation, and for me, already standing
tall with the likes of “Heaven Up Here”, “Degenerates” and “Author! Author!” as
an utter classic of its’ type. And Mark and the boys did it total justice, straight
from the opener “Don’t Fall” playing it big, beefy, dark and dramatic,
occasionally slightly slower than on record, allowing the tracks to breathe and
expand. Mark’s stentorian vocals were a feature throughout, particularly “Don’t
Fall” and “Monkeyland”’s roaring choral hooks, and Chris Oliver and Neil
Dwerryhouse’s plangent, intertwining guitars weaved an intoxicating and eerie
spell. Mark led the crowd in the huge “woah-oh”s of the triumphant “Second Skin”,
remarking, “oh, you’re good!” and throwing in a line from “Please Please Me” in
the denouement; then a stunning, anthemic “Up The Down Escalator” got this
venerable crowd really moving.
“That
was side one of our new record; now we’re going to play side 2!” deadpanned Mark
before the itchy, twitchy “Pleasure And Pain”. Given that probably 4 of my favourite
half-dozen Chameleons tracks appear on side one of “Script”, I would have
expected a slight drop-off, but none really occurred, particularly for “A
Person Isn’t Safe Anymore These Days”; poignantly dedicated, “to the memory of Sophie
Lancaster, who was murdered for being a goth,” it’s strident, “man of steel”
hook and yearning, enquiring line, “what kind of times are these?”, delivered
with conviction by Mark, made it a set highlight. The elegiac opening to “View
From A Hill” saw “Script” to a close, at which point the crowd gave the boys a
lengthy and deserved ovation, and a chuffed Mark remarked, “I’ve got a good
feeling about this album – I think it’s got legs!”
A
couple of bookended tracks; an urgent “In Shreds”, an undulating and rhythmically
absorbing “Swamp Thing” (featuring a couplet from “Rain”, the second Beatles
song referenced tonight) and a jagged, amped-up “Nostalgia” (which satisfied
the boke next to me, who’d been shouting for it) rounded off another supreme
showing from this seminal but overlooked (and not just by me!) band. Grabbed a
list and my breath, before a prompt journey home in inky blackness saw me home
just after midnight, elated after another brilliant Chameleons Vox experience!
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