Not my list, this one courtesy of occasional gig buddy Alfie...
Another gigging year gets underway… and
typical of what’s likely to be a fragmented start to the 2024 “Dance Card”,
given my impending knee operation (postponed from December and now rescheduled
to the end of January), this one was a Larry-Last-Minute late call! I’d been
impressed by new Dublin lot Sprints on the Suede undercard last March (gig
1,271); despite the obvious disadvantage of not being Desperate Journalist
(Suede’s support on other dates), they’d impressed with some urgent, insistent
indie/ post punk tuneage with a dark, almost gothy undercurrent and hint of
surreptitious menace. They’d clearly resonated with the gig-booking public as
well, as uncertainty over my knee op date caused me to hesitate on both this “in-store”
debut album release show and signing session, and their forthcoming Thekla
date, both of which sold out in short order! Yikes! So, big thanks to the Dice
waiting list for this one; I put my name down and was duly rewarded with a text
around lunchtime today offering a short-notice ticket. Thanks, I do!
So, I set off down a chilly and inky black
M4, hitting some nasty traffic straight off the junction and inching along the
M32 to Nelson Street, dumping the motor and hitting a busy Rough Trade at ¼ to
7, bumping into occasional gig buddy Alfie in the queue! Caught up, then nosed
around the racks, grabbing a couple of books (inc. a signed copy of Pulp’s Nick
Banks’ memoir!) and dumping them back in the motor before grabbing a central
spot a few rows back in the venue, inveigling my way forward as some older chaps
decided not to risk a potential mosh! Sprints took the stage promptly at 7.30,
and laudably treated this in-store performance as just any old regular gig,
plugging in and playing hard. Nice! The pulsed drumbeat intro of “Ticking”
underpinned a detached, impassive verse vocal from frontperson Karla Chubb,
before both she – and the song – roared into strident venomous life, setting the
tone for the set. The descending, “Dark Entries”-like riffery of “Heavy”, next
up, was again a feature, as this number built into a squalling feedback fest,
before bassist Sam McCann greeted the crowd with a cheery, “Bristol! How are
you!”, replying to my, “how are you?” rejoinder with, “it’s been a long
week – but happy to be here!”
Sprints oeuvre fits nicely into my
rock wheelhouse; moody and resonant post-punk guitar verse builds into roaring,
amphetamine-fast choruses with often pseudo choral round repetitive hooks, delivered
by Chubb’s impressively strident tones. That said, after a more immediate “Adore”,
the vocalist passed on her apologies as, “my voice is incredibly hoarse as I
shout too much; my mother warned me about it and look what happened… I became a
rockstar!” “Shaking My Hands” sneaked in like a thief in the night, before again
building to a strident climax, before, “the sad song on the album,” according
to Chubb, namely “Shadow Of Doubt”, a comparatively stark, almost mumbling and
morose wallow before building into an undulating repetitive hook, demonstrating
there may be more to this band than the shouty stuff!
The frantic “Up And Comer” was preceded by
a fun exchange between vocalist and punter (Chubb asking, “[happy to hear]
another album track?”, being met with a “No!” response from some wag, then offering
them outside!), before Chubb then addressed the crowd, thanking them for their/
our support; “this week has been very surreal; we’ve gone from being bedroom
dreamers to stage sell-out-ers!”, also delivering a story about meeting the
love of her life, and an inclusive speech about self-empowerment. The subsequent
final number, “Literary Mind”, encapsulated this mood; easily the set
highlight, a euphoric, almost early U2-like soaring choral hook leading into a
call-and-response circular lyrical passage between Chubb and bassist McCann,
rounding off an impressive, passionately delivered and good value 45 minutes
set.
By now I’d moved towards the back, so I grabbed
a spot near the front of the queue for the signing sesh with the band, grabbing
a pic as well thanks to a fellow punter (with whom I’d been passing time in the
queue chatting about bicycles!). Alfie, front and centre, had grabbed the list,
so I took a pic then bade farewell, home for 9.45. Shame I might not get to the
Thekla to catch this evidently fast-rising lot, but glad I managed to sprint
along the M4 tonight to catch Sprints up close and personal. Something makes me
think those opportunities will be getting increasingly scarce, real soon…
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