An
oft-postponed one, this, the actual ticket date being 5th June 2020
(!), and my first time of asking for a band I’ve liked for over 40 years now,
namely Northern Ireland’s The Undertones! A late-70’s band that skirted around
the “punk” scene but, with their bubblegum pop tunes, teenage angst lyricism and
ill-fitting sweaters and snorkel parkas, fell more in line in the subsequent
“New Wave” slew of bands, they nonetheless arrived with a bang… Their debut (!)
single “Teenage Kicks” was an instant classic, and is still, over 40 years on,
heralded as one of the greatest tracks of all time. A real singles band, with
arguably only The Buzzcocks for serious competition in the lovelorn buzzsaw pop
punk singles stakes, I liked them fine early doors but drifted away from their
poppier and more anodyne early 80’s material, and didn’t really miss them when
they initially called it a day in the mid-80s. Reforming in the early 2000’s
with the original line-up sans the distinctive high-pitched quaver of
vocalist Feargal Sharkey, they’d been a band I’d been meaning to check out
“live” at some point… and “some point” was pre-Covid 2020, which became
post-Covid 2022!
I
picked up a CD copy of their first album to run it past Logan, and, after not
listening to The Undertones for a long while, immediately realised why I’d kept
them at slightly arm’s length even back in the day… really not that fond of
Sharkey’s voice! Logan liked the new wave guitar enough to join us, and I was
hoping the new vocalist had a more palatable (to me, anyway…!) voice! So, we headed
off down country lanes to Frome, parking up and joining a snaking queue to get
in for 7 pm doors, bumping into old punk buddy Barney on the way through the
bar but nonetheless still snagging Logan’s preferred barrier spot, house right,
chatting with a fellow front row punter to kill time before opener Hugh Cornwell.
Cornwell is the former lead singer of The Stranglers, a 70’s punk/ New Wave
band I actually disliked and avoided back in the day – not least because, for
some reason, I’d fallen foul of a couple of skinheads who were big Stranglers/
Sham 69 fans, and who roughed me up a bit on the odd occasion back then. (In a
“Be The Bigger Man” moment, I actually confronted one of them, a few years
later, in the toilets at Levs, said bloke immediately apologising for, “being a
bit of a dick back then”…) Not Cornwell’s fault, I hear you say, and you’re
right, so I approached this set with an open mind, and, after a slightly dodgy
start (particularly the second number, a Stranglers deep cut about a bug on a
big red leaf, which was terrible), he and his 3-piece band warmed to their
task, and I actually warmed to them! An early “Duchess”, shorn of the organ
accompaniment, was still a highlight, the likes of “Skin Deep” and the conversational
verse style of “Always The Sun” were fine pieces of languid sleazoid bluesy rock,
recalling The Doors, Lou Reed (an obvious touchstone for Cornwell) and early
Bowie, and even his recent solo material impressed (in particular “Mr.
Leather”, about an abortive meeting with Reed, which felt as though it could
have walked off Reed’s “Transformer” album!). A chatty and open raconteur as
well, this hour-long set was overall a nice and unexpected surprise, culminating
in a tremendously dark, doomy reading of the Stranglers’ finest moment “5
Minutes”. Good work, Hugh!
Only
half an hour to kill then, as the place filled, and a drunken punter mistook
Logan for being my girlfriend (!). The Undertones took the stage prompt at
9.30, bassist and evident bandleader Michael Bradley proclaiming, “we’re the
Undertones, we play Undertones songs and crack Undertones jokes!”, before
immediately cracking into opener “Family Entertainment”, which set the tone for
the whole set with its’ bright, breezy and snappy New Wave melody. Thence
followed a 31 song (!!) set squeezed into barely 90 minutes, The ‘tones
blasting through at occasionally Ramones-like breakneck speed, yet still having
time for plenty of entertaining Irish “craic” and banter between Bradley and “new”
vocalist Paul McLoone. Ah yes, McLoone… possessed of a similarly high voice to
Sharkey, slightly reedier yet without Sharkey’s more pronounced and
oft-annoying quaver, his vocals fitted the material perfectly, and his
peacock-esque strutting performance was similarly entertaining. And the
material sounded great, the twin guitars of brothers John and Damien O’Neill
giving the songs fulsome power and purpose. Highlights? Well, you know them
all… an early mosh-inducing and singalong “Jimmy Jimmy”, the brilliant “Teenage
Kicks” casually thrown in mid-set (style!), a breakneck “Here Comes The
Summer”, a dark and swirling, almost “Paint It, Black”-esque “When Saturday
Comes”, my set favourite “Male Model” a chunky, drum-propelled set closer “Get
Over You”, McLoone calling Frome “good clapping country” and singalong final
number “My Perfect Cousin”…
Altogether
a damn fine evening’s entertainment, home for midnight after an inky black
drive through Wiltshire lanes. Well worth the near 2 year wait, and hopefully
not the last time I check out The Undertones!
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