After a brief pause following my Barcelona adventure, I’m back on the gig trail… and again with a Boston lot, with the return to this side of the pond for 90’s “Hub” post-grunge rock stalwarts Buffalo Tom. Their first time muddying these shores since December 2018 (gig 1,115, although I did catch the first part of a solo show by Tom main-man Bill Janovitz on my own most recent pond hopping trip to the US, at Boston’s Burren in November 2019, gig 1,163), this return is behind a new album “Jump Rope” which, in all honesty and (TBF) on initial listens only, seems to be a mellow, low-key and very trad-rock sounding effort, with nods to their own 60’s heroes The Who and The Rolling Stones. Still, the Tom never disappoint “live”, so tickets were duly booked for myself and fellow Tom devotee Tim for their sole London date, unfortunately at The Lafayette, a venue which was considerably less than impressive during my only previous trip there (for Desperate Journalist, gig 1,211). And, given that I wore a BT “Birdbrain” t-shirt to the Gigolo Aunts Barca gig last time out, it seemed only fair that I rock an Aunts tee tonight for the Tom!
So, duly Aunt-ed up, I drove over to Tim’s to facilitate an early departure, a quick drive to the usual Osterley Car Park getting us on the tube for an intended meeting with London-domiciled friend and Tom fan (and friend of Bill’s) Lisa, for some eats before the gig. Unfortunately, she texted us on the tube to inform us she was running late, so our restaurant bite instead turned out to be Greggs at St. Pancras International! We then wandered over to the venue just after doors and chatted in the bar, before grabbing spots near the front, house left, briefly spotting our late-running friend Lisa as this sold-out venue filled up.
Without much ado, and slightly later than advertised at 20 to 9, the support-less Tom took the stage, Bill announcing, “we’re Buffalo Tom from Boston, Massachusetts,” thereafter easing into the descending riff of opener “Staples”, which segued into herky-jerky old favourite “Sodajerk”. Bill’s furious and purposeful shredding was already the main feature, particularly on “Jerk”’s mid-8 break and vast chunks of the subsequent, proto grunge oldie “Fortune Teller”. “That was an old one,” quipped Bill, “they’re all old!”
Old
the songs may be, but any thoughts that the Tom might treat their material with
due care and attention was soon dispensed with; if anything, this was an even
rawer, ragged and more elemental performance than usual, from a band who
usually defer towards the rougher path “live” anyway. And, despite Bill’s
lamentations of not being in peak physical condition (“was I ever?”), he put in
a shift worthy of a man half his age, arms regularly whirling in Pete Townsend
fashion as he gave both his battered electric guitars a serious workout (in the
process also working his guitar tech Buffo hard!). That said, the mix balance
of the sound was a little variable, Bill’s shredding regularly dominating the
mix, with bassist Chris’ softer, more nuanced voice being lower and less
decipherable on his lead vocal duties than Bill’s throaty drainpipe rasp.
An early “Frozen Lake”, with a lyrical nod to Galaxie 500’s “Tugboat”, was a hushed, plaintive outlier; “Dry Land”’s great descending hook was the best – and best sounding – number of the mid set; then the jagged, incendiary “Birdbrain” topped that, the mix balance finally sounding sorted. Bill swigged some water (“gotta be properly hydrated for these ones!”) prior to the usual absorbing excellence of “Larry”; then a breathless “Tangerine” rounded off a ragged yet enjoyable set proper, the Tom reappearing for a 5-song encore featuring a squalling “Torch Singer” and an impromptu cover of the Rolling Stones’ “Under My Thumb”.
A chat with Lisa, before she popped backstage to see Bill and suss out whether we could do so as well. However, before she returned, we were ushered unceremoniously out to the lobby by an overzealous security bloke. Bah! Still, I then chatted at the merch stand with Michael Healey, travelling as tech for the Tom on this tour, away from his day job at Boston’s Q Division! He’d commented on my Aunts tee with, “a proper old Q band!” so tales of mine and Rachel’s early 2000’s “Hub” travels, “Hot Stove” downpours, Gravel Pit tattoos etc. were told to friendly and receptive ears, before I nipped to the loo, intending to return and continue the conversation, only again to find a locked door barring my way. Fucking security again, the officious ass-hats! A quick tube and drive home then saw me dropping Tim off just after 1, contemplating the night. Shit venue, variable sound, absolute wanker security… but a good catch-up with old friend Tim, a nice chat with a Q guy, and a good effort from the raw and ragged Buffalo Tom rescued the evening overall!
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