My last-minute knee op postponement from last Friday also means that I can get to this gig… I’d picked up on Californian shoegaze/ grunge rockers Teenage Wrist back in 2018, falling hard for their superb debut effort “Chrome Neon Jesus”, which was only beaten out by Basement Revolver for my Album Of The Year that year. Their sophomore effort, “Earth Is A Black Hole”, went one better in 2021, pipping the Stayawakes and Inhaler for Top Album honours, although I missed their brief 2018 UK tour (which passed through tonight’s venue) due to a clashing family holiday, Covid then conspiring to keep them from returning to these shores. Until now, and a tour in support of difficult, murkier and heavier new album “Still Love” … I booked tix immediately, but it then looked as if I was going to miss out – or at least try to hobble up the winding staircase on crutches to the venue for this one. Glad I don’t have to do that!
So,
limbs intact, I picked up Tim (for a change) for a drizzly run down the M4,
before some parking confusion (lots of temporary barriers strewn all over the
parking lot opposite the Louie) saw us dump the motor by the Thekla and wander
around. Got a drink and chilled, also enjoying a few words with friendly Teenage
Wrist vocalist Marshall Gallagher, manning the merch stand early doors and also
manfully putting up with my tales of postponed operations and suchlike. Took a
wander upstairs just before 8 to catch a bit of openers Mouth Culture, who ploughed
a pretty decent furrow between resonant reverb-overlaid post-punk and looser,
trippier Britpop, and were led by a young preying mantis of a vocalist, Faris
Badwan’s delinquent offspring, who actually had both the confident swagger and
the voice for the job. “Rage”, their urgent, punkish closer saw the vocalist,
stripped to the waist at this point, bellow the hook like a wounded lion. A bit
unfocussed stylistically, they could however be a name to watch... I certainly
preferred them to main support Paerish; after a decent shoegazey opener, all
tumbling drums and echoey guitar, they descended into samey and mid-paced
plodding sub-grunge, with their vocalist quite the contrast from the first
band, his understated reedy voice adding to the Smashing Pumpkins vibe I was
strongly getting from this lot. We gave them 4 or 5 numbers then took a break
in the bar.
Back in about 20 past 9 for the main event, though; grabbed a spot a couple of rows back, house right, as Teenage Wrist rounded off a short set up and final check, before Gallagher announced to the sell-out crowd, “Holy fucking Shit Bristol!”, inviting everyone to take a step forward before launching into the thunderous squall and huge choral hook of opener and new album leadoff track “Sunshine”, his voice somehow soaring above the immediately loud and heavy riffery. The boy can sing, no messin’!
This set the tone for the set; the oft-shimmering, textured and nuanced guitar pedal effects prevalent particularly on the first couple of albums were discarded tonight in favour of pure seething rock’n’roll power, earthquake-inducing grunge guitar riffery and hard-hitting, cascading drums courtesy of Gallagher’s main TW partner in crime Anthony Salazar. And, despite my prior misgivings, this approach made total sense in the “live” environment, giving the material extra primal force and dynamism, and providing a solid launchpad for TW’s trademark huge skyscraping choral hooks. Gallagher himself was a gregarious and laconic onstage presence, commenting, “this is our last date; I’m wearing the last of my clean clothes!” before the slightly outlying resonant, pseudo Goth post-punk of “Dweeb”, then asking if anyone had seen them here in 2018, before quipping at the pack of audience response, “we paid a lot of money [for that tour] and sucked a lot of dick!” “Taste Of Gasoline” was tremendous, a huge soaring hook propelling this early set highlight; “Stoned, Alone”, an introverted shoegaze wallow on record, turned into a tough slacker anthem; and “Silverspoon” again saw Salazar take centre stage with some jet-propelled drumming.
An
almost swayalong “Mary” ceded to a pounding, relentless “Cigarette Two Step”,
Gallagher screaming like a young Bob Mould at its denouement before Salazar
quipped, “hope you like our ballad!”; then an hour’s potent and dynamic rock ended
with profuse thanks from the frontman and the dark dramatic verse and huge
strident chorus of set highlight “Earth Is A Black Hole”. Woah. Took a breath,
feeling like I’d just gone 10 rounds with Mike Tyson after that rock onslaught,
before a conversation with a chatty Salazar about band dynamics and influences.
A drizzly run home then saw us hit the ‘don just before 11.45 with ears
ringing. A fine – albeit very very loud! – way to round off gig year 2023,
courtesy of Teenage Wrist!
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