I should really take more notice of
musical tips from friends called Andy… Both the esteemed Messrs. Fenton and
Perfitt have been banging on about Personal Trainer to me for a while now; I’d
initially checked them out and liked them fine, but heard nothing new and
inspiring to these cynical old ears. However a second check revealed some intriguing
upbeat Summery powerpoppy stuff from PT, a loose collective centred around
Dutch singer/ songwriter Willem Smit, overlaid with Smit’s own world-weary,
laconic vocals, which thankfully stayed the right side of sounding bored a
la Wet Leg et al, and actually recalled Jonathan Richman as if he were
backed up by, say, The Wannadies, albeit less straight-forward and more eclectic
than that sounds. An intriguing combination, then, evidenced on cracking and
immediate 2022 debut album “Big Love Blanket” and last years’ denser and more challenging,
yet still damn fine “Still Willing”, both of which I hunted down for prep in
advance of this “live” date.
Not surprising then that I had an Andy for company for this one! My turn to drive, so a ticketless Beef wandered over and we hit the road, scooping up his friend Jas on the way and parking up in good time for Beef to get sorted (eventually) on the door. Grabbed a spot on the stage underneath the hanging speaker, house right, next to occasional Devizes gig buddy Alfie. Painfully young 4-piece support Westside Cowboy were on in pretty short order at 7.30; after a largely instrumental opener which reminded me of the theme to the James Bond film “You Only Live Twice” (!), their first couple of numbers were riff-heavy grunge-athons, and I was initially fearing, oh no, here’s another support band trying to bury me with an avalanche of noise… However, “Scaring Me Now” changed my tune, being a brooding and introspective slab of 90’s heavier college rock a la Pavement, Buffalo Tom even, and thereafter the song quality improved notably. Subsequent numbers featured some Pixies-esque jagged riff patterns, some overt, almost chanted choral harmonies from the front 3 (all of whom took their turns at lead vocals), and the final couple of numbers even recalled the folky Americana/ Appalachian backwoods murder ballad feel of Cordelia’s Dad or Titus Andronicus, particularly when they performed the set finale acoustically around one mic. Stylistically quite scattergun, then, but nowt wrong with that, and with some intriguing ideas, they might be a name to watch…
Both venue and stage became quite crowded thereafter; a real tight squeeze to get back from a comfort break to my front row spot, plus the 6-piece Personal Trainer setting up a varied collection of instrumentation onstage. Neutral Milk Hotel all over again? Anyhoops, on they came, prompt at 8 to the strains of Beck’s loose-limbed slacker anthem “Loser”, and this initially seemed a touchstone for their performance, opener “I Can Be Your Personal Trainer” being equally louche and languid. “Round” however came across all Boo Radleys with its’ buoyant, almost Britpoppy bounce and ebullient trumpet blare, and early “Intangible” had an almost stripped-back Prince-like funky feel, before once again breaking into a big brass choral blast, courtesy of one of all-action guitarist Leon Harms’ regular forays onto a massive (contrabass?) saxophone.
So yes, Personal Trainer “live” were as eclectic
as anticipated, with ideas tumbling and clashing together, often rerouting
songs mid-stream. However, at the heart of the matter, they’re a pop band, pure
and simple, with none of the clever-dick eclecticism happening at the expense
of the tunes; “People”’s atmospheric pastoral sax intro segued into an
ebullient Wannadies singalong chorus, and “Testing The Alarm” featured a
naggingly effective repetitive hook build to a speeded up crescendo outro.
Also, they’re great “live”; loads of kinetic energy and movement, and in Smit
possessing a frontman of wry charm and open-hearted humour.
Oldie “Key Of Ego” was a grungier stream-of-consciousness piece with some Primus-like gabbling vocals from Smit, before the pastoral build of “Upper Ferntree Gully” and plaintive hush of “Still Willing” rounded off an upbeat, effervescent and, yes, rather joyful actually showing. However, the best by some distance was saved for last; despite keyboardist Abel Tuinstra protesting, “we don’t have any more songs!” encore “The Lazer” was a brilliant piece of soaring terrace chant pop, with that laid-back Richman-esque vocal verse delivery, proving the cherry on top of a sparkling showing. Grabbed a list (my 1,100th!) and grabbed signatures and compliments with 5/6th of the band, guitarist Franti Maresova sadly eluding me, before a quick blast back got us home just before 11. Colour me old, but I like early curfews, me…! So, great stuff from Personal Trainer and some potential as well from their embryonic support band, and testament to not giving up on a band after first listen. Thank you to Andy and Andy for getting me on board with Personal Trainer!
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