Pkew
Pkew Pkew… how can you not love a band with a name like that?! Particularly if said
band comes endorsed by The Greatest Rock’n’Roll Band On The Planet, The Mighty
Hold Steady… a facebook namecheck by THS was sufficient to pique my curiosity about
this Toronto band of punk rock ragamuffins, so I checked out and enjoyed their
new “65 Nickels” track on Youtube, then promptly bought their old debut CD as
the new one wasn’t out yet! Said debut was brilliant; similar to fellow THS
acolytes The So So Glos, this was raucous, rampant punk rock of the first
water, big, dumb and euphoric, sounding virtually on the edge of tumbling into
glorious chaos yet just… just!... about staying afloat, so I was itching to
immerse myself into this hectic mania “live”. I’d missed their recent THS Electric
Ballroom support slot, having already booked for the Friday gig when they were
subsequently added to the Saturday, but quickly acted on their dual-headliner
tour with LA emo-punk combo Spanish Love Songs, booking a ticket for this
Exchange gig.
Spanish
Love Songs themselves came highly recommended by Raze*Rebuild frontman Si Hall,
their fine (if, on my early listens, a little over the top on the self-loathing
angsty stuff for my liking) 2018 “Schmaltz” album being his fave of the year,
so I was joined not only by Si and Paul Carter but Si’s friends Ben and John,
John contacting us at the last possible moment to take up poorly Matt’s ticket,
requiring a double-back from M4 J16 to Gorse Hill to pick him up! Some
entertainingly scatological chat about cat poos and other bodily substances then
enlivened a quick jaunt down to Brizzle and a dive into the last spot in my new
Exchange parking lay-by. A four band (!) bill subsequently started shortly
after arrival with Scots ruffians Goodbye Blue Monday at 7.45. Like the
headliners, they seemed lyrically all about the self-loathing, if the big unit
of a vocalist’s intros were anything to go by (“this song’s about existential
crises at 2 in the morning,” being their opening intro, then it all going more
maudlin from there), but after the opening shouty angsty number, their songs
took a turn down Gaslight Anthem avenue with some anthemic, flag-waving tuneage,
and even into Clash City, with a decided old school feel to their upbeat, fun
and – dare I say – even life-affirming punk rock. A real juxtaposition, then,
but somehow it worked, a rousing terrace chant chorus of “why must I be so
miserable” typical of their oeuvre. They dealt with an annoying buzz (a grounding
issue, according to the soundman, leading the vocalist to admit he didn’t even
know what that meant!) well, and left us on their most positive lyrical note
with a hook of “there must be more to life than this!”, leaving an overall very
positive impression. Good start!
Took
a breather outside and chatted with the GBM guitarist, who complimented my
Superchunk t-shirt, before popping in for Toodles And The Hectic Pity. A 3-piece
led by an acoustic guitar-toting young Gaz Brookfield lookalike, they played a galloping,
yearning set of angsty emo-punk embellished by the young vocalists yearning,
high-pitched passionate vocals. Very Dashboard Confessional then, and although
I enjoyed them, they didn’t leave as indelible a mark as the openers.
But
it was Pkew Pkew Pkew, next up at 9.15, who were my short-odds potential highlights;
I’d come prepared, donning shorts, kneestraps and contact lenses, and took a
spot down the front during their slightly fiddly (well, for a punk rock gig,
anyway!) set-up. They wandered back on shortly after, kicking straight into “Prime
Minister Of Defense”, making an immediate impression not for the expected
shambolic chaos, but for a lean, mean, tight and coherent opening. Tough,
committed and kinetic as all get-out (especially guitarist Emmett, who threw
angular, back-bending shapes from note one and nodded in appreciation at my rocking
out, front row), they almost seemed a more grown-up version of the
beer-swilling, terract chant-howling frat boy gang I had anticipated, reflecting
the journey into a more “mature” approach for their new “Optimal Lifestyles”
record. Well, comparatively, anyway… after all, this was still reckless,
rampant, rousing punk rock, recalling the Replacements, the Hold Steady and
even the Mighty Titus Andronicus in its’ all-inclusive, fist-pumping,
roof-raising singalong glory. “Drinking Days” featured some excellent snaking
Thin Lizzy-style riffery, “Mid 20’s Skateboarder” was a huge floor-shaking punk
rock anthem, and newie “I Wanna See A Wolf” immense, before they brought on
Spanish Love Songs’ guitarist Kyle (or, “the slow cheetah!” as they nicknamed
him) for a rousing “65 Nickels” and a run through the Chilli Peppers’ “By The
Way” which even got me singing along.
No
“Let’s Order A Pizza” in the set (my kids’ favourite Pkew song, but one which
they’re “over”, according to drummer David Laino), but “Asshole Pandemic”’s
woah-oh’s closed out a quite brilliant set, slightly different than anticipated
but no less euphoric, singalong and inclusive for it. Great, great stuff!
I’d
degenerated into sweaty oik David by this point, but grabbed a list and went
about hunting down various Pkew folks to sign it, also hitting the merch and
taking my purchases back to the car before headliners Spanish Love Songs, on at
10.15 in front of a packed room, a walk-up sell-out on the night. From the off,
they were great too, the loud angst-ridden brooding melancholy of their CD
being replaced by a more buoyant, upbeat “live” approach, and I was instantly
struck not only by their complete lack of ego, monolithic mainman Dylan Slocum
approaching his task as if playing to a small room of friends rather than a
horde of baying strangers, but also by that mythical, THS-like connection
between band and crowd, as if you couldn’t see the join. Instead of the
introverted self-loathing, we got rousing singalongs and a feeling of, you
know, we’re all in this together, let’s damn well make the most of it. So I did
too, eventually joining the mosh for my second battering of the night. An
excellent “Losers” was dedicated to tour manager Gregory, who promptly left his
stage-front position (!), “Remainder” was my set highlight, a balls-out
sweeping epic rocker recalling The Foo Fighters’ classic “Everlong” (despite
Dylan claiming, “we’ve just learned it tonight!”) and “Beer And Nyquil (Hold It
Together)” felt like a manifesto for this band, a proper roaring finale. Dylan seemed
genuinely taken aback by the frenzied and enthusiastic response, remarking, “you
guys are the best! We really, truly appreciate it!”, and after a confusing
moment, dragged the band back on for encore “Buffalo” to end a pretty fucking
intense yet thoroughly enjoyable set, during which any doubts I had about
Spanish Love Songs were well and truly dispelled.
No comments:
Post a Comment