1,239 SI AND MATT HALL, Jim Blair and Hip Route, Swindon The Tuppenny, Thursday 28th July 2022

 

“We’d like to thank Covid 19 for our second headline show of the year!” deadpanned Si at the start of their set tonight, this (very!) short notice replacement gig being due to tonight’s intended headliners at The Tuppenny’s regular Thursday night Music Club testing positive for the dreaded ‘rona. Thankfully no-one was really ill from it (hence Si feeling able to make the above comment!), but this gave me a local gig on an otherwise quiet Thursday, catching up with the brothers Hall, former mainstays of Raze*Rebuild, one of my favourite bands of recent times, and now ploughing a more acoustic version of said band’s blend of Springsteen-esque heartland Americana and Mould-esque hooky popcore sonic assault. A combination of family commitments and lack of funds meant I missed their recent “My Dad’s” Festival set, but having caught them last month at The Beehive (gig 1,233) I knew Si and Matt were in fine form. So here we go!

 Parked in a free sidestreet spot after finding my now-preferred free-after-6 car park was full, and wandered around to the ‘Tupp just after 8, chatting with Matt about our kids (!). Local mainstay Jim Blair, who’d also thrown his hat in the ring as a late replacement tonight, was just finishing sound-checking, and, along with Hip Route bass partner John, started their duet set shortly afterwards. Jim, a flared trousered, barefoot rocker with the soul and husky, grizzled voice of a Mississippi Delta bluesman, and his baseball-capped cohort John laid down some down and dirty old school swampy blues, slightly affected by speaker issues (promoter and soundman Ed Dyer remarking someone had thrown a glass of whisky over it!) but with Jim’s highly proficient and intricate fretwork a feature, particularly after switching to a lap steel for the set’s denouement. The slow burn to noisy crescendo of “Find My Way” and closer, a growling rendition of the old standard “Come Together” were highlights of a good set. Still not to my usual tastes, but my narrow-minded ears are still suitably educated to recognise talent. And these boys have that…

 An entertaining between-sets discourse with Ed (or should I say, “Teddy”?!) before I had a pre-gig chat with Si about his recent hand issues – the new guitar helps, but he needs to educate his muscle memory into playing softer and gripping less hard! As we mentioned before, you can take the boy out of the punk band, I guess, but…! Further evidence of that, as Si and Matt kicked in at 9.40 with a smooth “Rhythm And Rhyme”, came from his one foot back, forward leaning stance to deliver his somewhat reined-in yet no less authoritative vocals. Following an early, melancholy “Slow Burn”, the toilet-circuit road movie soundtrack “Face For Radio” was introduced as “a Raze*Rebuild song,” some wag down the front (OK, me…) commenting that it was on their Coasters EP, Si then quipping, “we changed our name [to Raze*Rebuild] as we got requests for “Yakity Yak”!”

 

I’ve always said one sign of a great song is the performer’s ability to deliver it “live” in radically different ways; that being the case, Si and Matt write great songs. Full stop. The formerly galloping rocker “Troubled Minds” turned into a deliciously austere self-examination, while the multiple tumbling hooks of a later “Back To The Fall”, my favourite Raze number, would sound great in any setting, and even a slight middle-8 miscue from Matt (causing Si to come back with the subsequent amended hook of, “Matthew Hall, Matthew Hall…”!) didn’t detract from its excellence for me. In between, newie “Keep Distracted” lamented a partner’s absence abroad, and the atmospheric “You’re The Chalk” saw Si give his voice full beans (possibly a little too many!); then the galloping hoedown closer “Audiobook” again reflected a journey from youthful punk rock indignation to middle (r)age cynicism (and featuring the brilliant line, “can I smash the system while seated – and in comfortable shoes?”), rounding off another fine set.

 Quick chat with the boys afterwards (Si reckoning they were just “OK” tonight, but what does he know – he never watches his own gigs!) and a lengthier discourse with Ed about the importance of continuing to attend events in these troubled and financially pressured times, before I threw a fiver in the tip jar and headed home. As I mentioned, I’m glad the scheduled performer is alright, but even happier for their absence tonight, and another chance to catch up with, and be entertained by, this talented duo!

1,238 DEAN WAREHAM, Ryder The Eagle, Bristol Fleece, Monday 25th July 2022

 

A gig over 2 ½ years in the waiting, this... the last of my pre-Covid booked gigs to actually take place, I booked tix for this one in December 2019, only for various lockdowns either side of the pond to delay the tour 4 times overall (although it seemed more!). Either way, it’s finally here; former Galaxie 500 and Luna frontman Dean Wareham, delivering a rendition of his first band's seminal 1989 sophomore album “On Fire” to celebrate its 30th (well, 32^nd now!) anniversary. A serious precursor for the early 90’s shoegaze scene, this, with dreamy and droney material taking a slight cue from the Velvet Underground but otherwise sounding unlike anything else of its era, I picked up on it as part of my late 80’s Boston-area musical voyage of discovery - Pixies, Muses, Dinos, Tom, Dipper... heck, even Birdsongs Of The Mesozoic found their way onto my radar back then! Only got to see G500 the once (November 1990, gig 178 - missed them a couple of times before that) and honestly they weren’t all that, but I subsequently enjoyed my Luna shows (gigs 269 and 294) better, so happy to give Dean and this album another chance!

 Old friend Beef joined us too - disgracefully, this was the first time I’d seen him since before lockdown! What happens with a friendship predicated on going to gigs, I guess... anyway, much catching up ensued during a swift drive to Brizzle, thence parking up just round the corner of The Fleece and chatting outside before 7.30 doors. Got the drinks in inside, running into “Shiiine On” buddy Matt and finally meeting Martin, our erstwhile 4th “Shiiiner” for this year! Support Ryder The Eagle was bloody awful - a young bullfighter-clad bloke singing moody dirges to backing tapes? Nope nope and thrice nope, so Beef and I scuttled back outside, being joined later by Matt, who advised Ryder had since hopped offstage, gone round the crowd singing in people’s faces and was currently rolling on the floor, stripped to the waist...

 Joined the muso throng back inside and stood by the bar, 2/3rds back - no need for front row spots for this one, given the atmospheric mellow melancholy of the “On Fire” material... Sure enough, Dean led his 4-piece band onstage to little fanfare, easing into a few choice cuts from his current album “I Have Nothing To Say To The Mayor of LA”, which veered between slow-burn atmospherics (“As Much As It Was Worth”) and more upbeat yet still languid grooves a la early Luna (opener “Corridors” and the catchy “Cashing In”, which featured the delicious line, “every fuck was a flying fuck”!). Again, with little fanfare, “Blue Thunder” then heralded the “On Fire” rendition, Dean lifting his vocals through numerous octaves to hit the mainly falsetto notes required by this dreamy yet discordant material - largely successfully!

 On my only Galaxie 500 “live” experience, I felt their performance veered too much towards jarring noise, even finding a few “On Fire” numbers a little too much during recent revision listens in the car... tonight, however, Dean and crew balanced that off-kilter discordancy skilfully with delicate dreamy atmospherics, providing a heady and beguiling mix. “Snowstorm” was a hushed and fragile delight, building to a meandering wah-wah guitar riff, and “Another Day”, sung by guitarist Britta (more on her later) was a 60's influenced psychedelic San Fran drug den drone with a baroque, almost Jefferson Airplane chorus! “Leave The Planet” featured some thrilling Byrds-ian backwards psych-guitar riffery and Mo Tucker-esque tub thumping, overlaid by Dean’s own slightly misbehaving mouth organ clarion blare, whilst “Isn't It A Pity” was a touching, air-clearing ballad to close out a surprisingly fine set.

 

A couple of encores, including the tumbling, undulating “Flowers”, the slow-build to crescendo of my favourite G500 number “Tug Boat” and a Red Crayola cover, “Victory Garden”, which required a break midway through thanks to some nasty feedback, rounded off a splendid performance. Swiped a mixing desk list (hooray!) and got it signed by an affable, masked-up Dean and his merch-stand bound wife and band guitarist Britta. Ah yes,Britta... Britta Phillips (for t’was she) was the lead singer of excellent early 90's US shoegazers The Belltower, hosts of my landmark gig no. 200 in November 1991 and a couple of other performances back then, including a Friday Big Tent set at my first Reading Festival in 1991, which I attended at the expense of the mainstage debut of a then-unknown band called (ahem) Nirvana... I shared said story with Britta before farewells to Matt and Martin and a swift drive home, Britta being just amazed that anyone still remembered The Belltower! A surreal way to end a better than anticipated gig 2 ½ years in the waiting!

1,237 FRANCIS OF DELIRIUM, Supp. Briston Maroney, Bristol Exchange, Monday 18th July 2022

 

The hottest day in the UK in my lifetime, and I’m spending the evening in a tiny and sweaty venue supporting the support… it’s either dedication to the rock’n’roll cause, or total insanity; you decide!

 Either way, this one was an eagerly anticipated one from Luxembourg (!) newcomers Francis Of Delirium, whom I’d discovered on that old reliable “New Music For Old Punks” facebook page last year, finding them a heady mixture of smooth, swirling dreampop, widescreen epic indie and down and dirty grungy riffery, with “Lakes”, their finest number, strongly recalling the excellent Madder Rose’s classic “Car Song” and comfortably making it onto my “Best of 2021” CD compo. An odd combination too, with the core duo consisting of Jana, a young female vocalist/ guitarist and her partner-in-crime Chris, a veteran player much (much!) closer to my age! I’d just missed their tour support with Coach Party last year (now, that’d be a great combination) plus a June support tour taking in Bristol, but was happy to snap up tix for this one, in support of Briston Maroney, a name fairly unfamiliar to me. There for the support, then!

 Fully hydrated, I set off down a baking M4 with the aircon on full, stopping at the services to cool the car down and only putting my own tshirt on when I parked opposite the venue! Grabbed a well-needed drink and chilled (in this heat? Ha!) outside while the Briston Maroney massive, mainly consisting of young student girls, filed in. So I followed suit and grabbed a front row spot, house left, promising my front row companions I would relinquish it after FoD were done. A baggy black-clad Jana led the 3-piece band on promptly at 8 (no Chris – I discovered later he doesn’t tour due to family reasons; fair enough!) and straight into the hushed intro to “Lakes”, then hitting the off-kilter, angular rhythm riff… and hitting it hard! It was obvious therefore from the outset that this “live” Francis Of Delirium iteration were here to rock, and they proceeded to tear the Exchange a new one with a potent, powerful and fiercely determined display, taking their cue from Jana herself. “Red”, next up, featured some fierce riffery from Jana, underpinning the looped “all makes sense” hook, and the excellent “Funhouse” clattered along propelled by an almost Bauhaus “Dark Entries” drumbeat. “Are you all excited to see Briston?” asked Jana – nope, I’m here for you guys!

 

A droney, stream-of-consciousness “Let It All Go” ceded into the stately, slow-burn dark and dirty dirge of “Losing”, which recalled Manchester Orchestra (!), before my set highlight, the stark, confessional lyricism and jagged Seafood-esque quiet-loud dynamics of “Ashamed”, which was quite brilliant, a quantum leap ahead of the considerably more muted recorded version. The Pixies-ish build to the terrace chant hook of set closer “Quit Fucking Around” was preceded by Jana asking for some audience participation for said hook; I think we got 6 out of 10 for enthusiasm but only 4 “because they can’t sing”! Whatever, Francis Of Delirium scored a perfect 10 for me for fierce, clear-eyed conviction, and delivery of a quite stunning set.

 

Grabbed my breath and left the front rows to the Briston massive after Jana had kindly handed me the sole list, then I grabbed signatures from the affable Luxembourgish rhythm section, unloading afterwards, plus a longer chat with the merch stand-bound Vancouver expat Jana. Zac, a blond chap who took our pic, complimented my rocking out down the front; I replied, “I’m only here for them – I’ve not even heard of Briston Maroney”, to which he retorted, “me neither, but I am in his band…!” Oops!

 Egged on by Zac and Jana, I took a watching brief at the back for Briston. I had actually checked out brief bits on YouTube, and as expected he initially dove in with a Pixies-ish “Wave Of Mutilation”-like chunky rocker “Bottle Rocket”, to a barrage of screams from his young female massive – no surprise really, he’s quite a handsome chap in a young psych-slacker Evan Dando way, I guess… Subsequent numbers variously recalled the chunky powerpop of early Ben Kweller/ Ben Lee, or blander 70’s druggy late night Venice Beach campfire swayalong balladry, but either way I wasn’t feeling the vibe overall, so after ½ hour I said my farewells to the FoD folks and left for a more comfortable drive home, back by 10.30. On another night I’d probably have enjoyed him more, but, similarly to The Slow Readers Club following Desperate Journalist at the Thekla in 2017 (gig 1,063), tonight wasn’t his night. Like them, he’d already been blown off stage for me by his support before even taking to it…! Nope, tonight was Francis Of Delirium’s night, a searingly hot set on a searingly hot night!

1,236 THE STAYAWAKES, Swindon Lydiard Park “Cheese and Chilli Festival”, Saturday 2nd July 2022

 

The third gig in barely a couple of months for me with these South Coast surf power-pop (beach?) boys The Stayawakes as hosts, and, improbably, this one’s a home tie…! The lads recently announced a 3-date early Summer tour, of which last Friday’s jaunt down to Southampton’s splendid Hobbit (gig 1,234) was the first, a midweek date at Camden’s legendary Britpop watering hole The Good Mixer the second, and an appearance as musical entertainment at Swindon Lydiard Park’s Cheese and Chilli Festival the third! Say whaaaaat!!! I nearly fell off my chair when I saw this; after trekking down to their neck of the woods to see them lay waste to a sleepy Arts Centre in deepest darkest Hampshire, now I’d get to rock along to their irresistibly hooky powerpop harmonies in my own back yard? Thanks, I do!

 I’d quizzed them last Friday about this one; a 6 p.m. half hour slot to close Fest Day 1, so Logan and I planned to cycle over to save on car parking costs. However, the impending drizzle finally arrived early afternoon, threatening to throw a quite literal dampener on our plans. Luckily there was a brief break in the clouds about 3-ish so we headed over then, locking bikes up by the café and wandering the wrong way around the fenced-off Festival site. D’oh! Stayawakes drummer Steven, who’d just parked his car around the back, joined us as we headed in, weaving our way through a maze of virtually deserted stalls selling all sorts of mainly chilli merch (including sauces ranging from hot to flaming mad bastard!), to the also quiet eaterie and beer tent-flanked main performance area in the corner. Clearly the weather had put a lot of folks off attending today… Nonetheless, we caught up with the boys plus their entourage – they’d brought their families along, hoping for a nice picnic afternoon in the grounds of Lydiard House, but the weather had let us all down. Enjoyed a chat with Steven’s dad anyway, plus a catch-up with Jimmy and Pete punctuated by our having to scuttle for cover thanks to a particularly nasty dark cloud opening its contents on us!

 The hardy souls that had toughed it out were then “treated” to a chilli eating competition, as 10 reckless individuals suffered through rounds of ingesting various evilly named chillies measuring several hundreds of thousands on the heat scale, a couple even throwing up in the process. Yuck! Luckily things were cleared up, and even luckier a seam of white sky appeared between two dark foreboding clouds, rendering it soggy yet rain-free for The Stayawakes, who kicked off early at 5.15ish with the rolling drums of “Wendi”. That strident drumbeat aside, this initially lacked its usual fiery launch, with Andrew late into the initial vocal line, but then didn’t lose much time building up to its’ usual escape velocity. And actually, for once, the sound was pretty decent as well… whilst the sound systems for their other 2 gigs have struggled to cope with The Stayawakes’ rampant volume assault from the off, this one, despite basically being a couple of speakers in a field serving a temporary open fronted (and backed) gazebo stage set-up, sounded pretty well balanced with no instrument dominating any other. In fact, the only sound issue was with the Stayawakes’ penchant for swapping lead vocalists between numbers, the soundman making multiple trips to the front with his laptop to turn up various mics! And of course, the boys, once again in their matching pink polka shirts, gave it their energetic all, ricocheting around the stage like pastel pink balls in a pinball machine.

 

An early “Please Steve Just Drive” was dedicated to The Hart Foundation, the boys showing an impressive knowledge of vintage WWE (WWF?) by listing obscure members; then there were the cheese puns… they’d prepared caerphilly (groan) for the Fest with a selection of (quite literally) cheesy quips, Andrew’s comment of, “catch our set on the Brie Brie C i-Player,” being probably the best of a bad bunch! But the rock, as ever, rocked… an infectiously hooky mid-set “Pink Wave” was my set highlight this time, although the descending riffery of “Inevitable Truth” (“our ode to Bob Mould,” as Andrew called it) ran it close. “Lovestruck” as ever was a fist-pumping singalong, and the 2 oldies, the Gigolo Aunts’ “Mrs. Washington”-alike “Jake” and headlong hurtling finale “Little Explorer” rounded off a set, wherein The Stayawakes happily brought a bit of South Coast sunshine to a soggy Swindon field.

Si (who’d turned up with Kathryn midway through the chilli eating contest) renewed acquaintances with Jimmy before they headed off; then we hung around awhile as the Festival literally closed around us (!) before cycling back home after effusive thanks and farewells, home for kebab tea. So the Festival itself might have been a damp squib (Day 1, at least...), but nonetheless there were musical fireworks, thanks to The Stayawakes!