Another
key landmark reached in my gigging days; the big 1,200, and prospective fine
hosts in long-time “live” favourites, folk-punk veterans The Men They Couldn’t
Hang, only this time a potential triumph laced with sadness… The Men, like so
many bands, had had tour plans disrupted by Covid 19, but more tragically,
founder member, co-vocalist and chief “live” rabble rouser Stefan Cush sadly
passed away in February this year of a heart attack, aged only 60. Heartfelt
consideration was understandably given as to whether these pre-Covid dates
would be honoured when possible; indeed, whether The Men They Couldn’t Hang
could or should continue as a going concern without Cush’s towering presence in
the band. Thankfully, the answers to both questions were ultimately decided in
the affirmative, although this might prove a somewhat different “live”
experience to that originally anticipated. Hopefully one which honours the life
and contribution of a true working class rebel and spokesman, with dignity and
humour…
I’d
of course been playing TMTCH songs to the kids in the car from the get-go, and had
been able to expose Logan to their unique brand of folk-punk tomfoolery at
Wickham Festival in 2019, so my 14 year old gig buddy was well up for a rousing
singalong in a small Bristol pub, particularly if there was a kebab on offer at
the end of it…! My first time at The Thunderbolt, then, and on arrival, after
being expertly navigated in by Logan, I was gratified to see it was just as
advertised – a dingy, run-down small pub venue, capable of holding about 150
souls, and understandably sold out tonight. We took a spot near the front of
the stage for opener Gerard Starkie, on at 8. He played some dark, baroque and
typically English sounding folky stuff initially recalling the 70’s likes of
Cat Stevens and even pre-Glam David Bowie; then “Closing Up”, a song from his
old band Witness sounded a proper old school Britpoppy anthem and was the best
of his set by miles; then he followed that up with a number he used to play
when he was a member of Blue Aeroplanes – he lives in Bristol, he owns a
guitar, of course he used to be a member of Blue Aeroplanes!
His
lilting, melancholy and alright-actually set rounded off at 8.45, after which
things got a bit crowded on the postage stamp dancefloor, but we held our
spots, front and centre, as Phil “Swill” Odgers led the 6-piece band onstage,
understandably looking quite cramped up there! A jolly “Raising Hell” opened
the show, after which the elephant in the room was quickly and elegantly dispensed
with, Swill eloquently paying tribute to Cush, advising us that the band
intended to continue for this tour at least, and quip, “this feels like the
first soundcheck Cush has turned up to [in spirit] – he’s having a mojito
across the road!”
Thus
informed, band and audience visibly relaxed and proceeded to go about the
business of having a bloody good time, celebrating life, music and Cush’s
memory the right way. “Going Back To Coventry” (“part of [songwriter Paul
Simmonds’] folk rock trilogy? Or even quadrilogy?”) was powerfully rousing and
rocking, Swill subsequently commenting on the song’s fast pace with a story of
how, early in their career, an A&R man thought all their songs were that
fast, and ended up playing “Ghosts Of Cable Street” at the wrong speed! Then,
an emotive, heart-cracking “Green Fields Of France” was next up, Swill doing
“Cush’s song – and his dad’s song” stark, beautiful justice and respect, vocalising
off-mic to lead the crowd in a genuinely emotional and affecting singalong.
Just lovely stuff.
A
rollicking “Smugglers” singalong served as an upbeat mood changer, before the
acoustic interlude saw Logan (front and centre, remember…) hold up the lyric
sheet to “Pieces Of Paradise” for Swill to sing! Thus followed more road
stories about Cush (including one where he interrogated Swill about breaking a
tour taboo – no shitting on the tour bus!), a couple of unexpected gems
(including the languid Spanish Stroll of “Salutations” and “Gold Rush”, a
personal favourite), and raucous, rousing singalongs to the fist-pumping, blue-collar
class struggle likes of “Cable Street” and set highlight “The Colours”. A
frantic “Ironmasters” closed out a celebratory set, before encores including
“Walking, Talking” saw Swill ask the by-now raucously dancing crowd to, “step
back, 75% of you probably have knee problems already!”
A
merch stand visit, a quick chat and pic with Swill, and home via the kebab kiosk
around the corner from home as promised for two happy boys. This was done
beautifully well, The Men They Couldn’t Hang delivering a superbly fun evening’s
entertainment and honouring their fallen comrade in exactly the right way. I
can just picture Cush raising a glass to them, in thanks and salutations…
No comments:
Post a Comment