1,128 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, She Makes War, Oh! The Guilt, Bristol Exchange, Thursday 21 March 2019

Just over 16 months since I've last seen this lot, but it seems much longer... London's young Desperate Journalist, a band who burst into my consciousness with a series of gigs and releases recalling that dark and dramatic 80's post punk, goth tinged rock template but with their own, uniquely post-millennial spin, a band who likely already wear the heavy mantle of Best Band In Britain, but a band who I completely missed "live" in 2018, due to unfortunate gig/ holiday clashes. That year, they snuck out a very fine EP, followed by an utterly devastating single "Cedars", a precursor for this year's 3rd full-length, "In Search Of The Miraculous". Both single and album denote a slight pace-change, powering down from the often-frantic gallop of earlier releases, revealing instead an imperious, stately set of gloriously epic, soaring anthems. Brilliant stuff, most likely a serious contender for Album Of The Year (yes, already!), so a gig this time round for me was an essential date!

Not just for me; their UK tour happily included a Bristol date, so I had a full carload and a convoluted pick-up, collecting Beef, Andy, Ady and Stuart before hitting the beat route to Brizzle, parking up in a sneaky nearby spot in good time for openers Oh! The Guilt, on at 7.45. An aptly named 3-piece, as it happened, as their music seemed weighed down by swathes of remorse, starting off bleakly and funereally, before bursting into a plod (!). I'm normally one for some gloom and doom, and certainly there were interesting morose bits, but I subsequently found the female co-vocalist's falsetto really grating, so sought shelter in the bar with the boys.

Back in for main support She Makes War at 8.30; another attraction for this gig (if more were needed) was Laura's late addition to the bill as a full band showing, and, after a few years of SMW skirting around the periphery of my musical vision, I'm glad to say I'm fully on board with her now, especially so after last year's "Brace For Impact" album, which marks a progression from the wistful dreampop of yore into slightly more upbeat, grungier and more guitar-riff driven territory. After a couple of oldies for starters (a tough, haunting "Drown Me Out" a feature), this material dominated the set tonight, with a discordant "Undone", the sleek 60's film theme feel of "Fortify", the exciting Pixies-ish hobnail-booted stomp of "Devastate Me" and a powerpoppy quiet-loud "Love This Body", which for me recalled Radish's excellent "Little Pink Stars". In between numbers, Laura was also in fine fettle, referring to her band as, "the fluffers of the evening!" and urging folks to buy her merch, particularly her new album on vinyl, as it's the same colour as her dog! A spot-on support slot, which left me very much looking forward to her similar date with Juliana Hatfield in May.

Stu and I had shipped up front centre for SMW, so there we stayed as the place really filled up around us; surely this was close to, if not actually sold out on the night! At 9.30, Desperate Journalist took the stage to the excellent backing track of Simple Minds' classic "Theme For Great Cities", vocalist Jo Bevan shaking her tail feathers to it as the band plugged in. Then on with "Murmuration", which, a funereal death march on CD, really took flight "live", and any doubts that we were due to witness an utterly exemplary performance from the Best Band In Britain were quickly dispelled. The components are impressive enough; Caz, a human metronome with her unfussy and strikingly clipped drum style, Simon laying down some frankly flesh-creeping bass, Rob coaxing shimmering and resonant noise from his Rickenbacker, already having evolved his style way beyond the Johnny Marr comparisons, and Jo, wide-eyed, secret agent black-clad, buckling over in two to add further passion and strident power to her vocals. However, combined, they form a shimmering and brilliant whole, and with the new material they seem reinvented and re-invigorated, the butterfly emerging from the chrysalis.

"Boring" saw Jo speak the flippant verses, adding suitably dismissive emphasis, but after a dynamically gothy "Jonatan", with Rob's intricate riffery recalling "She Sells Sanctuary", it was "Cedars" that was the real standout gem. Already the high watermark in their canon, this was breathtakingly widescreen and soaring in its scope and conception, and executed flawlessly, already a classic, their "Killing Moon" in the making. Yup, that good.

It wasn't all sunshine and roses tonight; the sound fluctuated a little from our front row positions (too close to the action, perhaps?), and Jo continually pleaded for more vocals in her monitor, things coming to a head as she, visibly frustrated, banged constantly on her vocal pedal during "Lacking". However, a moment's pause and a beer from Caz saw her roar back to her commanding and imperious best with a galloping "Ocean Wave", a subsequent "Cristina" and closer "Satellite" both utter bangers to round off a magnificent set, most of which I'd been jumping around to like a loon, happily bouncing off some thankfully soft stage-front padding!

"Resolution", the sole encore, was a huge, fist-pimping finale, then 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and it was over, leaving me to collect my thoughts, grab some brief words with a friendly yet besieged Laura, then get the big bass fella to get my list signed by his cohorts, secreted upstairs. Gathered the troops and headed off, before a diversion off the M4 saw us tramping through Malmesbury at the dead of night, hitting the hay at 12.30 after final dropoff. Utterly brilliant stuff tonight, though, and well worth that minor hassle; it's early days, sure, but the Best Band In Britain may just have followed up a serious contender for Best Album of 2019 with a serious contender for Best Gig of 2019. Desperate Journalist are back… and how!