1,106 THE POSIES, Anna Wolf, London Highbury Garage, Friday 19th October 2018

Another one which Tim largely twisted my arm to go to, and another, like Okkervil River earlier this month, that he was absolutely spot-on about! 90’s Seattle post-grunge powerpop legends The Posies announced a 30^th Anniversary tour which piqued my interest somewhat, but as the closest they were coming to the ‘don was this gig at Highbury Garage, I was prepared to give it a miss, particularly bearing in mind the embarrassing drunken chaos which my last attended Posies gig (gig 670, waaay back in 2005) degenerated into. However. Tim’s enthusiasm won the day, so we duly booked tix for a first Posies gig – and first time back at The Garage! – for 13 long years! Yipe!

It being a Friday, we made reparations to leave early, so I taxied into work and Tim picked me up from there at 4 for a startlingly swift drive up. Remembering the chaotic journey back from the Sparks gig in May, we parked in Shepherd’s Bush (our early arrival there necessitating us hanging around until we could legally park, including a swift drive around the block to avoid an approaching traffic warden!) and tubed it over, hitting an embarrassingly deserted venue about ¼ past 7. Early, true, but The Posies were due on at 8… took an easy spot on the barrier, house left, and surveyed my regular 90’s North London haunt – I think it was suffering from the Wagon Wheel effect, as it was a lot smaller than I remembered! Opener Anna Wolf, a striking brunette with an accompanying guitarist, took the stage in short order, and assaulted our eardrums with some poor doomy Goth/ pop crossover material, like Paloma Faith trying on dark eyeliner and playing with Hallowe’en dolls. A stage presence part Kate Bush, part Katniss Everdeen and part scalded cat, she jumped up and down and bashed remorselessly on an innocent floor tom, with a voice that emerged from her throat as if it had been on death row down there. Minus several points for the dreaded loops and effects pedals as well; the only saving grace was at 4 songs, this was short – and easy to pack away afterwards!

Luckily we have the plangent melody and graceful 60’s infused intertwining harmonies of The Posies to cleanse our collective palates, I thought… hoo boy, little did I know… The Posies took the stage prompt at 8 to a still-disappointing turnout (between 2/3 and ¾ full, in my estimation), in pretty good humour from the outset, Ken Stringfellow commenting, “good gravy, it’s The Garage!” and swapping compliments and self-confessed “dad puns” about gravy and, bizarrely, Brexit, with hefty partner-in-crime Jon Auer. Opener “Dream All Day” pretty much set the tone – far from the hazy, swirling psychedelic “California Dreaming”-esque harmonies I was expecting, this was rugged, tough and powerful, with Ken and Jon energetically jumping up and down, as if their mission was to pummel huge holes in the stage floor by set-end. Woah!

Ironically, given my last Garage gig was American Hi-Fi, back in 05, The Posies tonight delivered the kind of set da Hi-Fi always excelled in (and Raze*Rebuild do now) – a pure adrenaline-fuelled, savage, raggedy-arsed punk rock assault, as if the nuances of melody and harmony were things to be bludgeoned over swathes of riffery, reverb and sweat. “Daily Mutilation” lived up to its’ name, a powerful, visceral garage punk attack, and even the more morose and melancholy “Please Return It” was savage and seething. Between numbers, Jon and, particularly, Ken were voluble and gregarious hosts, Ken offering us a generous, “welcome to the Posies’ 30^th Anniversary! Surprising, as I’m only 29…!”, then giving us a lengthy yet absorbing speech about their inception (“we lucked out… as Seattle became a cultural phenomenon”), introducing legendary producer Jon Leckie (producer of their sophomore “Dear 23” album, and in the crowd tonight) in the process. An off-mic duet of “You Avoid Parties” was a moment of clarity amongst the noise, stark and beautiful, and the subsequent “You’re The Beautiful One” became a big, beefy and big-hearted grunge anthem. After a preamble about the PledgeMusic campaign funding the re-release of their 90’s canon on vinyl (“the ones everyone listens to,” remarked Ken pithily), they introduced one such pledger, audience member Lawrence Salisbury, on to play drums during “Going Going Gone” – and a damn fine job he did too! I personally could have done without Anna Wolf’s reintroduction, and bristled somewhat as she caterwauled through Kay Hanley’s sublime backing vocal parts during an otherwise-excellent “Glitter Prize”, but a punchy, punk “Everybody Is A Fucking Liar” redeemed matters instantly. Set closer “Solar Sister” was utterly magnificent, easily the best of the set – and the most coherently delivered as well, Jon Auer’s searing guitar solo complementing the smooth, honeyed harmonies perfectly, the band, dripping with sweat, taking a deserved break at its’ conclusion.

The encores were damn special too – “Song #1” dedicated to the late Joe Skyward, “I Am The Cosmos” yearning and emotive, “Grant Hart” a thrash-punk beast worthy of its’ name, and finale “Burn And Shine” featuring a cacophonous feedback outro of which even Bob Mould would’ve been proud – once he’d removed the earplugs, that is… An appropriate punctuation to a startling set replete with power and punch, the material standing up surprisingly well to the sonic assault, and teetering yet never plunging into chaos. Wow!

Good as their word too, Ken and Jon repaired to the merch stand directly afterwards, so I snatched a pic, signatures for my list and a couple of words with them before we headed off to the tube, before chips on the Uxbridge Road and a swift drive home, back by 12.30. Great night, great gig – even if a bit different than expected – but a fine, visceral way to celebrate The Posies 30^th Anniversary!

1,105 GAZ BROOKFIELD, Jake Martin, Si and Matt Hall, Swindon The Victoria, Thursday 11th October 2018

21 today! Yup, this one is the 21st occasion I'd partaken of the delights of Gaz Brookfield "live", either with his Company Of Thieves, or, as per tonight, on his in-your-face, rabble-rousing, punk-folk semi-autobiographical troubadour tod. This, a sadly-rare Songs Of Praise-promoted date, represented the first time in 18 or so months Gaz had frequented his old home town (still looks the same, though...!) and saw him in good company tonight; not only spritely tour support Jake Martin, but an acoustic Raze*Rebuild line-up (namely Si and Matt, sans rhythm section)! With that prospect on the cards, I couldn't really grab my ticket quick enough...!

Not wishing to faff around parking, either, I headed up early and hit the venue at 7.30, greeting R*R's Si and Matt, SoP impresarios Dave and Ed, Mr. Paul Carter and Gaz himself outside, before heading in, where we were joined by Stuart and The Big Man, both - amazingly - availing themselves of a solo Gaz show for the first time! Stu and I took a front row spot for the introduction of "approximately 50% of Raze*Rebuild, by volume!" Si had expressed slight nervousness beforehand, there being no place to hide in this stripped-back version of the band, but no need as this was an exemplary performance, showcasing the strength of the songwriting, Matt's splendid guitar work (Si commenting, "isn't my little brother good on guitar!")... and, actually, Si's voice! This shouldn't have been a surprise really, but, without the need to compete with the loud guitars in the band line-up, Si dropped an octave, reined in the usual stentorian howl and sang... amazingly well! "Troubled Mind" was a perfect example, and the Northcote cover, "Worry" also benefitted from this treatment. "Kat I'm Sorry" (preceded by some fun preamble about "catharsis"..."sounds like a metal band with a logo made up of sticks!") hiccuped once or twice, but was largely its usual epic self, and closer "Back To The Fall" was a great galloping beast, even acoustically. "Our last song before we hand you over to Chris Webb... Oh fuck, sorry I mean Jake!" remarked Si, reading Gaz' tshirt, ending a great set with a slightly embarrassed smile...!

Chatted with Stu, Rich and recent arrival Ady before Jake Martin then took the stage. "How much did they pay for this Gaz? Come get your money's worth!" entreated Jake, so Stu and I hit the front again. An early "Revolution's Always Late " was a tongue-in-cheek Bragg-like protest number (methinks generally, Jake would have been right at home in those Red Wedge, Tory-protesting 80's, alongside Bragg and The Men They Couldn't Hang), and by now, Jake was in full acerbic flow, reflecting on his role as "the fluffer" on this tour (and delighting on the Swindon crowd getting this porn reference) and acidly and deftly taking down a couple of  chatty hecklers, to the audience's loud approval. "For Fuck sake Jake", with the audience participation, was inevitably the highlight, but an excellent "Mountains" (before which he asked for a hand, "for my buddies from Razorlight!", and called out a watching Gaz for being "stage rapey"!) ran it close. By closer "We Sing The Words All Wrong", he'd won everyone over, the communal singalong raising the roof. Nice one Jake!

We kept our spot as the place really filled up and Gaz sloped onstage at 10, with a laconic and funny "Solo Acoustic Guy". Almost an understated start, but that didn't last long, a wide-eyed "Diabetes Blues" getting the singing started early. "Swindon! Fucking hell, it's been awhile... it won't happen again!" confessed Gaz, before Ed, after handing him a can of Thatchers Gold, cheekily enquired, "am I responsible for killing you?" "Under The Table", Gaz' litany of debauchery, was introduced with, "[on] day 2 of the tour I had to play this in front of my mum!", before then confessing during a tribute to his hometown, "I'm sure I took a shit in the bushes next to the Regent!"

Typical Gaz! Again, revelling in the enthusiasm of a home-town crowd, Gaz turned it on, giving a consummate and inclusive performance, also revelling in the frequent mass-singalongs. "I've Paid My Money" ("not directed at anyone in particular", but pointedly dedicated to Jake after his heckler issues earlier) was great, bilious and acerbic, "Banality" was pointed and rollicking, and after the secret of the Aged Revolt tour name was revealed (it's - shhhh, can't say!), the eponymous newie, performed as a duet with Jake, was a flag-waving call-to-arms for the Rebel Alliance. Praise too for The Vic ("the Terminator of venues!") before a superb "Land Pirates Life" rounded off the set perfectly.

Killjoy time now; I hate Whitney – I’m sorry, but I do! - so can really do without that cover, but that aside, the encores were equally excellent, "West Country Song" raising the roof, and finale duet "Great Minds Drink Alike" being delivered "in the round" from the floor by Gaz and his faithful wingman Jake. Superb!

Copious compliments and handshakes with performers, promoters and friends completed a superb night of entertainment, chat and bonhomie. A great 21st - not long now until Gaz inevitably catches and overtakes the Mighty Seafood as my "most seen act", and that will be an accolade well deserved!

PS A fun footnote, the night after, saw Gaz texting me to ask if I'd swiped his setlist - guilty as charged! - and asking for a pic of it!

1,104 OKKERVIL RIVER, Honey Harper, Bristol Thekla, Thursday 4th October 2018

Despite the M4 closure last night, I’m braving a trip down to Bristol again… time to catch up with Okkervil River, a band I’d “discovered” following an “Uncut” magazine subscription in 2010. I’d been utterly startled by the power and dynamism of their Trinity set in November 2011 (gig 833) in support of the excellent “I Am Very Far”, however a subsequent pair of releases hadn’t stirred me sufficiently to make a concerted effort to catch them again. I therefore wasn’t in a real hurry to pick up current release “In The Rainbow Rain”, but Tim’s enthusiasm persuaded me otherwise. As with Death Cab For Cutie, a couple of years ago, he was right, as “ITRR” was a more immediate collection of tunes, wrapped up in the usual Okkervil River widescreen Americana/ Byrdsian tinged musical style, oozing with intelligence and songcraft, but also with a seam of blue-eyed 70’s soul running through, recalling Lampchop’s finest hour “Nixon” or even Bowie’s “Young Americans”. Also, in leadoff track “Famous Tracheotomies”, it featured one of Okkervil River’s finest numbers, a gorgeous and languidly delivered autobiographical story of mainman Will Sheff’s childhood illness, linked into a history of, well, famous tracheotomies! Good stuff indeed, so tix were duly snapped up for their Bristol return, this time on the “Dirty Boat”…

Tim picked me up early, and we circumnavigated the reprioritised mess that now passes for Bristol City Centre, our convoluted journey nonetheless parking us up outside the venue at 20 to 8. The opening act was just rounding off at that point – an early one indeed, this! We therefore caught only a couple from Honey Harper, apparently both a band and its’ frontperson, a right proper poser in a suit; the first seemed very trad country, and the second was an overblown tape-backed cover of Dusty Springfield’s 60’s standard “You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me”, which just seemed an excuse for Honey to fling his arms around ostentatiously. Not particularly impressed, as you might gather…

Took a wander right down the front, house right, a good viewing spot slightly obscured by the roof-suspended speakers. The new Okkervil River – apparently a brand-new line-up since that 2011 gig – traipsed onstage, with Will Sheff arriving last, eschewing his previous nervous Geography teacher persona for a cross between full-on Fillmore East and beardy peacenik Lennon, all double denim, hair and round NHS glasses. Thoughts of Midlake’s similar metamorphosis were immediately banished, however, with excellent opener “Pulled Up The Ribbon”, sweeping, upbeat and darkly dramatic, Sheff “on it” from the outset and his band backing him up in kind. An early “Love Somebody” was all laconic plastic soul with an absorbingly wordy middle 8 section (Sheff also, rather splendidly, being a lyricist who is unafraid of cutting a short story long), and “Famous Tracheotomies” was given a fully deserved treatment, lazy, hazy and quite, quite beautiful, with the Kinks’ “Waterloo Sunset” keyboard riff (Ray Davies had a tracheotomy, dont’cha know…) a totally apposite outro.

Gregarious too – whether recounting a lengthy story about his nephew’s first words (“prostitute”, “apocalypse” and “pink slips”!), snarkily suggesting newie “New Blood” is, “available everywhere for 1p a stream!” or lamenting a van break-in in Birmingham in which nothing was taken (“they just broke our ignition and now we’re in a shitty rental!”) Sheff had plenty to say and did so in a most entertaining manner. “Judey On A Street” had a lovely undulating keyboard pattern and a touch of the laconic Jonathan Richmans to Sheff’s vocal; “John Allyn Smith Sails” was a ragged and rousing sea shanty singalong, particularly the “Sloop John B” homage; and after a reference to the protests surrounding the Supreme Court vote (“there’s all sorts of shit going on [in the US] that I wish I was there for [now] and glad I’m not!”), a startlingly reworked oldie “Black” was a venomously delivered Frank Turner-esque protest rocker, and the set highlight.

“Our Life Is Not A Movie”, with a dramatically collapsing and discordant middle 8 augmenting its’ widescreen musical scope and vocal loop, ended an utterly rocking set, with the pulsing “Charming Man”/ “Sporting Life” beat of “Lost Coastlines” and a joyous, riotous and communal “Unless It’s Kicks” rounding off an overall one hour 45 minutes performance which seemed half that. Wow. True to his word, Sheff then decanted immediately to the merch stand, so I eventually got to chat and compare trache scars with a very personable frontman who, once again, had led his band through a stunning performance, way better than anticipated. M32 and M4 closures on the way home but after that, who cares? This was just a superb gig!