Nada
Surf are the Best Band in the World right now, and have been so for the best
part of this century. Full stop. They’ve evolved from their mid-80’s (briefly)
MTV-friendly, edgy underground US alt-rock roots into an irresistible melodic
and harmonic thing of beauty, warmth and optimism, and every new CD release
(including this year’s “Moon Mirror”) not only feels like the aural equivalent
of wrapping oneself up in a big fluffy blanket on a soft comfy sofa and
binge-watching your favourite feel-good TV show, but also adds to an utterly
stellar and nigh-on faultless canon of work that stands favourable comparison
with any run by any artist, ever. Yup, I’m thinking Bowie’s 70’s constant
reinvention set from “Hunky Dory to “Scary Monsters”, R.E.M.’s seminal “Murmur”
to “Green” run, even the first 4 Bunnymen albums here. And the thing of it, is
that Nada Surf have nailed it with ALL of their albums. Not a clunker in the
collection at all.
Right, now I’ve got that out of the way, let’s talk about this gig! One of a sadly desperately small clutch of UK dates promoting the new CD, this, and the nearest to the ‘don, but happily on a Saturday, so I gleefully booked, blowing off Gaz Brookfield at The Hop to do so (never mind, Logan and I are seeing Gaz with full band at the Fleece next month anyway). Storm Bert wasn’t about to stop me either, as I hit the road just after 4 for a near 3-hour shlep up the Smoke, driving all the way due to potential fears about outlying tube routes becoming flooded due to the storm, and parking on the free after 7 red route, directly outside the venue! Result! Grabbed a spot house right, a couple of rows back in this ornate and well-appointed mid-sized venue (my first time here!), for openers The Other Half, on at 8 to shouts of “the best band in the world!” from some punters – clearly mates or relatives. Sorry guys, they’re up next…
Anyway, The Other Half kicked into gear with an urgent, hard and heavy thumping emo/ indie sound, featuring stream of consciousness vocals delivered either in a high-pitched startled yelp by the moustachioed vocalist, or in a submerged, haunting lilt by the female bassist. Sonically recalling for me the herky-jerky taut and frantic tubthumping of The Front Bottoms or recent finds Michael Cera Palin, they were clearly buoyed to be here, the singer announcing, “Nada Surf are collectively our favourite band, so this is nutty!” and later asking for a picture with the audience, commenting, “we normally only play to about 30 people!”. Overall, they were a decent opener; heavy going at times but seen a whole lot worse.
Chatted with a tall affable gent who’d taken the coach from Abingdon for the gig, before ‘da Surf sauntered on at 9 pm sharp, easing in with the understated plangent loveliness of “Inside Of Love”, thereafter kicking up a gear with the New Order-esque and brilliant sounding indie dance groove of “High Speed Soul”, Matt Caws already the star and focal point, delivering a warm, open-hearted performance, seemingly making eye contact with the whole crowd at once and displaying the relaxed ease of a man playing to a small room of friends. Which I guess we are… “I have a problem with multi-tasking – I wrote a song about it while driving!” he quipped before the brilliant, undulating and beautifully tuneful newie “In Front Of Me Now”.
Stark, eerie blood-red spotlights then picked out the band for a brooding “Killian’s Red”, the intricate riff weaving a hypnotic spell. Startling punk rock newie “Intel And Dreams” was preceded by Matt listing the various venues Nada Surf have played in London, and by a shout out to Damned drummer Rat Scabies from sparkly “Ringo”-shirted sticksman Ira Elliott. But again, as per Matt’s recent solo set, the undulating change of pace/ mood of a heartfelt “Matilda” was an early highlight, Matt again dedicating it, “[to the] dads who accept their kids just the way they are…” A breathless “The Plan” (“our first single – 31 years old!”) ramped up the pace again and I jumped about with gay abandon in my spot; then the surreptitious slow burn opening and tremendous build to the absorbing looped vocal outro of a quite magnificent “See These Bones” was utterly stunning. A hushed “Blonde On Blonde” diffused the mood before the angular flamenco feel of newie “One You Want”; then the urgent, drum-propelled hurtle of “Hyperspace” (which again saw me jumping about like a loon) rounded off another amazing set from this Very Special Band.
Back
on for a 3-song encore culminating in the band taking to the front of the
stage, totally unplugged, Matt playing a road-weary acoustic for a reverential
singalong to “Blizzard Of 77”, capping the 1 ½ hour performance perfectly. I
caught my breath and wiped my brow – full Cleo too! – then I got a list and queued
up for a brief chat with a predictably besieged but as-ever friendly Matt at
the merch stand (who remembered by surname but not my first name this time!),
explaining the “full cleo” origin of my dishevelled state and foregoing a
selfie because of it! Inched my way painfully out of London then sloshed along
an utterly awash M4, home for 1. Horrid travel conditions then (which got worse
overnight and ultimately forced me to postpone my trip to Coventry the next
night to see Boston newcomers House Of Harm; bugger!), but as ever, the Best
Band in the World underlined their status and made it all worthwhile!
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