1,262 THE PRETENDERS, Bristol Thekla, Friday 10th February 2023

 

Whoa, hold on… The Pretenders? At The Thekla? The Thekla? Yikes!

 I’d liked post-punk New Wavers The Pretenders fine back in the day; picked up their 1979 debut album and in particular played the frantic, amphetamine gabble of “Tattooed Love Boys” to death, thoroughly enjoyed their set supporting U2 at Wembley in 1987 (gig 81!) but really took it no further. However, I’ve recently revisited their output and latterly come to love their stylish and crafted, occasionally blues-tinged post-punk rock, and of course reckless Rock Icon Chrissie Hynde’s deliciously unmistakable contralto vocals. Their set at Lydiard Park in 2018 (gig. 1,099) supporting Simple Minds (and comprehensively blowing them into the weeds) was excellent, playing them firmly on my radar for future gigs. This one, however, was a real “jump or miss out” moment, as they announced a small venue tour which predictably sold out within hours! “Absolutely no hits whatsoever. Well, maybe a few”, according to the advert strapline quote from Chrissie herself – hey, don’t care, play what you like, it’ll just be worth it seeing this hallowed band close-up!

 Cognisant of wanting to grab a parking spot outside this 400-capacity venue, I set off early doors, nearly hitting a deer at Leigh Delamere, but arriving in good time, squeezing into one of the Thekla car park’s narrow spaces and joining the veteran queue at 20 past 6 for 7 p.m. doors. Pitched up house right second row, behind a friendly couple from Fairford (hi Simon and Fran!) and enjoying some gig chat as the place filled up. A quick loo trip as the roadies busied themselves just after 8 nearly proved problematic, as some jerks by the mixing desk wouldn’t budge, but I squeezed my way back in good time before the Wagnerian operatic backing track welcomed The Pretenders onstage at 8.30, Chrissie taking the stage last after her young band. A couple of newies kicked things off; a hard-edged, sleazoid “Losing Sense” and a melancholy “A Love”, given extra yearning depth by Chrissie’s unique quivering vocal style, The Voice gaining a little more dark smokiness with age, but still indubitably Chrissie. Then “Kid”, 4^th number in, was simply magnificent; gorgeous and hauntingly sombre, and again overlaid by a superb vocal, dissonant and insouciantly cool.

 

This set the tone for proceedings; a few (relative) newies, a few deep cuts and a smattering of those 80’s chart hits, but essentially the band playing what the hell they like, delivering a relaxed yet splendid performance. “What a great little gig [venue]! People asked why we’ve downgraded [to smaller venues]; because it’s fun!” gushed Chrissie prior to the highlight from recent album “Hate For Sale”, a lush and emotive “The Buzz”, apparently reworked “in the style of Johnny Thunders!” yet approaching “Kid” for sheer emotiveness. “Domestic Silence” showcased virtuoso guitarist James Walbourne, the rocker axeman really putting in a shift tonight with some impressive shredding; then the chugging groove of “Don’t Get Me Wrong” heralded an excellent set mid-section, highlighted with “Biker” (“my favourite song,” according to Chrissie) and the smooth jangle of “Talk Of The Town”. Some subsequent rockier New Wavey numbers seemed to suffer from the guitar mix, Chrissie getting clearly agitated and shouting at the sound-guy to “turn it down!!”, but by the undulating melody and insistent jangle of “Back On The Chain Gang” things seemed sorted, at least from my spot underneath the ceiling-hung speakers! Closer “Junkie Walk”, a song I’m not fond of on record, made much more sense “live”, the terrace chant swagger morphing into an NYC Lou Reed sleaze march, Walbourne stepping forward and delivering the strident middle-8 riff practically on top of us!

 

“We’re on a boat! What if it goes down… what a legacy!” quipped Chrissie after taking the stage for the encore, before giving us some more sage advice; “never board a plane with someone more famous than you; if it crashed, you’ll be known as, “also killed was…”!” Point taken! Said encore saw Chrissie throw a bone to us oldies, with a couple of first-album deep cuts; firstly a gravelly, growling and sinister “The Wait”, then a breathless and frankly incendiary “Tattooed Love Boys” Chrissie leaving us with, “thanks for being a fun crowd!” following this, predictably my set highlight. A friendly roadie handed me the drummer’s list and a copy to a fellow front row punter; then in a display of appalling self-entitlement, some big bloke came up and snatched it out of his hands! If you’re reading this, mate, you’re an asshole of the first water, and you don’t deserve ever to go to a gig again… A slightly jarring note to end the evening, but I nonetheless bade warm farewells to my Fairford friends, picked my way through Bristol roadworks and home for 11. Glad I jumped for this one; Chrissie Hynde may be 71 years young, but tonight she delivered another splendid, age-defying performance, backed ably by her excellent young charges. Once again, the Pretender was the Real Deal!