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!
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