1,384 RIALTO, DESPERATE JOURNALIST, London Scala, Wednesday 14th May 2025

 

Yup, it was next up… after their splendid acoustic Rough Trade set, last time out, I booked to see returning stylish post-Britpop glam-dram purveyors Rialto at their headlining London show. I mean, I didn’t need too much persuasion anyway; if another dose of their widescreen 60’s inflected kitchen sink drama soundtrack music (amply displayed on their very listenable new “reunion” album “Neon And Ghost Signs”) wasn’t enough, then there was also the identity of their support… only Fierce Panda label-mates Desperate Journalist, who as we know are pretty much as good as it gets right now for UK bands, their insouciant goth-Smiths vibe particularly soaring in the “live” environment. A slightly odd couple, this, labelmates rather than soundalikes, but both are well within my wheelhouse, so a midweek shlep up the Smoke it is!

I hit the road at 4 straight from the office for a good run, parking up in Osterley and tubing over to Kings Cross for 6.30. Doors at 7, so I joined a modest queue, then grabbed a not-to-be-relinquished barrier spot house right, chatting to some fellow front row punters to take us up to Desperate Journalist’s emergence, prompt at 7.30 for this early one. Kicking off with the dramatic Simple Minds “Sons”-esque bass-led slow burn build into the plangent chorus of “Everything You Wanted”, then juxtaposing that with the dismissive snark of the bouncy “Why Are You So Boring?”, it was clear from the off that this was a band in a hurry tonight, keen to take this one-off opportunity and slam-dunk it big time. All elements in perfect synchronicity as ever, but props to the solid driving bass of Simon Drowner, the foundation upon which the Desperate Journalist sound is built, as well as the strident vocal performance (rising above an initially slightly echoey vocal mix by mid-set) and scary kinetic conviction of wild-eyed vocalist Jo Bevan. She means it, maaaan… 

A brilliantly chosen 10 song DJ vignette showcased all aspects of their dark, goth-tinged post-punk canon, from the “Passion Of Lovers” proto-goth backbeat of “Afraid”, through a slightly understated but still widescreen “Cedars” (which also featured a stellar mid-8 guitar break from Rob), to the beetle-stomping hurtle and circular mid-8 hook of oldie “Cristina”, my highlight tonight. We even got a greeting from the Ice Queen herself, with, “everyone having a good Wednesday?” although this was quickly qualified with, “that’s the extent of my banter…!” A brooding, sweeping “Be Kind”, which featured the usual mid-song pregnant pause, catching most folk out tonight, was followed with set closer “Satellite”, slightly understated and slower paced yet still its’ usual soaring self, to round off a dynamically delivered 45 minutes. Bloody lovely! 

Follow that Rialto! Grabbed a breath after bouncing along to DJ’s set, before a pit photographer asked to take a pic of my Comsat Angels t-shirt; turned out he was best mates with erstwhile CA bassist Kevin Bacon! Then a quick loo break (loads of steps in this place, so this was like climbing the Matterhorn, or taking a piss in Wetherspoons!) nonetheless got me back in place for the full 5-piece band’s onstage arrival, just after their scheduled 8.45. Easing in with glitter-stomp newie “I Want You” and Boo-slightlydelic oldie “Hard Candy”, it was evident that they weren’t out to match their support for sheer dynamism, instead relying on the louche 60’s atmospherics of the material, and their moody yet melodic delivery. An early “Untouchable” was case-in-point; preceded by vocalist Louis wrestling with a water bottle cap then telling a story of seeing The Fall’s Mark Smith do the same one time at Glasto, albeit less successfully (the contents ending up down MES’ leg!), this was shorn of the lush orchestration of the recorded version but still managed to feel soaring and stately, with Louis giving it full beans on the vocal outro. “When We’re Together” was an eerie late night torch song and early highlight, Louis delivering the hook off-mic, before they tried a second album oldie, “London Crawling” coming across all slow burn Ziggy-era Bowie. Backing vocalist Liz joined the band for the Pulp-esque funky stomp drama of “No-one Leaves This Discotheque Alive”; then my set highlight, oldie “Broken Barbie Doll” was euphoric and desolate in equal measure, delivered with insouciant understatement. 

“I’ve always wanted to play this venue!” gushed Louis, also informing us of his mum’s attendance tonight (!), before the most Rialto-sounding of the new numbers, the sweeping 60’s “Put You On Hold”. Eschewing the encore ritual, Louis teasingly asked, “is there another one you want to hear?”, a tremendous “Monday Morning 5.19” sending everyone home early and happy. A quick chat with Fierce Panda boss Simon Williams, then I was off and running, nearly jumping on the wrong tube but turning myself around, home for just before 1. A great night out, then, well worth the midweek shlep; I think the overt oomph of DJ shaded it for me over Rialto’s more considered languid style, but nonetheless 2 contrasting yet equally worthy sets!

1,365 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, Keeley, Bristol Exchange, Wednesday 15th January 2025

 

Not mine! thanks to gig buddy Julian for the pic..

Another gigging year kicks off, with familiar faces for the 9^th time of asking in goth-tinged post-punkers Desperate Journalist! Family issues had precluded my attending their Jericho Tavern one-off last October, but by then we’d already booked for this, the opening night of the tour promoting new, 5^th album “No Hero”. Another worthy addition to a pretty stellar canon, this, albeit a bit harder work initially, denser and more brooding at first listen with increased usage of textural keyboard embellishments and off-kilter rhythms, the real songcraft nonetheless shining through with repeated listens. Just as you’d expect really, from pretty much the consistently best band these shores have had to offer over the last decade or so!

Stu’s turn to drive for this one, so he picked me up about 6.15 with Andy already in situ (Mr. Fenton being a late replacement for the sadly poorly Mrs. L), then a foggy drive down saw us grind to a halt for 20 minutes at J19 thanks to a (doubtless fog-induced) prang, getting us parked in the loading bay space opposite the venue for 7.30! Yikes! However, still in good time to grab a central spot a couple of rows back for the support. And a proper bonus biscuit too, this one, as recent finds Keeley were our openers; yay! So, tall and striking vocalist (and, apparently, Bristol domiciled, as, “it’s my favourite city in the world!”) Keeley Moss led her troops on at 8, moody opener “Last Words” setting the tone for the set, inasmuch as the more layered textural shoegazey guitar effects on record were largely eschewed in the stage mix, a slight bit of echo the only overlay for Keeley to properly go to town on those intricate and undulating riffs. And so she did, her sterling fretwork, determined strident vocals and expansive Townsend-esque whirling arm gestures driving the performance along; didn’t hear a bum note all set! “Forever Froze”’s squalling intro tumbled into a Britpoppy bounce and glam-Bowie riffery; two new numbers (again referencing Keeley’s muse, murdered backpacker Inga Hauser) impressed, particularly the later “Hungry For The Prize”; and after ebullient bassist Lukey plugged their merch (“we’ll peddle our wares out there; just the sartorial and sonic kind!”), the absorbing and metronomic closer “Trans Europe 18” closed out a fine set from an increasing fave of mine.

Caught up with Matt, who’d been delayed by the fog and arrived as Keeley kicked off, then I grabbed a chat with Keeley and Lukey on the merch stand, both happily remembering me from “Shiiine On” last year, before I retook my spot in an increasingly busy front few rows. Desperate Journalist themselves were on in short order at 9, again to the industrial beat of Simple Minds’ “Theme For Great Cities”, the taped gentle drumbeat intro of new album opener “Adah” properly launching into its slightly Eastern-tinged swirling air of mystery and menace, once drummer Caz joined in with her economical yet strident style, However this initially brooding mood was well and truly skewered with a bullish and swaggering “Why Are You So Boring”, vocalist Jo already delivering the lead with forceful and impassioned authority. 

“Can I get a bit less of myself in the mix?” asked Jo after a resonant, haunting “Hollow”, deadpanning, “the ego is fragile,” before then delivering a quite astonishing vocal performance for the galloping “No Hero”, particularly the soaring choral line, thereafter asking for more of herself in the mix! The bubbling “7” was another mid-set highlight, the off-kilter rhythm ceding to a huge chorus, then “Cedars” actually got an intro from the hitherto taciturn Jo. A bit of banter then ensued (Jo asking, “it’s Wednesday, what’s it like for you?”, some wag down the front – OK, me – replying, “great, we’re seeing Desperate Journalist!” eliciting a, “right answer!” response from the singer) prior to a lengthy and meandering “Everything You Wanted”. The comment of, “stay tuned for more existential despair,” served as intro to newie “Unsympathetic”, the “live” rendition adding more bite for me, then a widescreen and affecting “Be Kind” my highlight of the night, a swaggering if sloppy “Personality Girlfriend” rounding off an as-ever swift 1 hour 15 set.

“I thought I heard someone say, enough of this macabre charade!” announced Jo, before a 3-song encore culminating in indie banger “Satellite” ended matters. Another great performance from DJ; not their best by any means, some first night bum notes prevalent, and again it felt on occasion that the band were playing within themselves, easing into the tour. But when you set your standards so high, even an average DJ gig knocks spots off most everyone else! Struck out on the list this time – I’m not about to climb onstage uninvited, that’s not how it’s done – then bade farewell to Matt and hit the road after another quick chat with Keeley and Lukey, roadworks delaying our exit from Brizzle onto the still-pea souper-clad M4. Maybe not at their absolute stellar best tonight, but any Desperate Journalist gig is still a great way to kick off the year!

1,295 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, The Violent Hearts, Bristol Dareshack, Wednesday 4th October 2023

 

A hectic 3 in 4 nights kicks off with a potential cracker from the current standard bearers of UK Indie rock. For me, London’s Desperate Journalist have been pretty much the best band the UK has to offer since I first heard them back in 2017, their urgent and intensely rich mix of dark 80’s post-punk, pseudo gothy guitar licks and stark, confessional lyricism from rock’s resident Ice Queen Jo Bevan knocking me for six from the get-go. This, the first in a short gig run for the band for no reason whatsoever (no new material to bed in, no imminent releases, it just seemed they wanted to keep their hand in “live”!) took us to a brand new Bristol venue in the Dareshack, so this was pretty much a no-brainer…!

 My turn to drive, so I picked Stuart up just after 6 and, after dumping the motor in Nelson Street car park opposite the site of the sadly lamented Bierkeller, found the venue easily at the top of The Pithay! We grabbed drinks in the side bar and were joined in short order by “Shiiine On” buddy Matt, in need of a good rock night out. Methinks you’ve come to the right place! Heard noises emanating from the venue just on 8 so went in to the evocatively black-lined Fleece (ish?) sized room, grabbing house right spots a couple of rows back as support The Violent Hearts took the stage. Slightly out-of-place supports to cartoon punks The Dickies a couple of months ago (gig 1,290), here their muscular swaggering dark alt-rock, propelled in no small part by their strong-armed, hard-hitting drummer, made much more sense. Lots more nuances to their sound were evident than previously as well; “John I’m Only Speeding” had a twanging, Cure “In Between Days” feel, and the sweeping “Burning” gave more than a nod to “Free All Angels”-era Ash in its’ windswept melancholy. After the Ramones lyrical nod, however, “Porcelain” was my set highlight tonight, a splendidly hurtling punkish blast. “Who needs an “E” string anyway?” queried vocalist James Mattock as he undertook running guitar repairs before a Suede-ish, sleazoid “Hex On Me”, then the rambunctious rocker “Everything And Nothing” drew another impressive support set to a close, both Stu and Matt also commenting favourably. I might have to go see them in their own right before long…

 Spotted gig buddies Julian and Alfie down the front for a chat, before bumping into DJ bassist Simon on a quick pre-gig loo trip. Desperate Journalist themselves took the stage dead on at 9, Rob Hardy immediately coaxing hauntingly resonant textural noises from his guitar, and Jo delivering a rushed, “hello,” before the band plunged into the angular, dismissive opener “Nothing”, the black-clad, straw-haired singer immediately the focus with her wide-eyed, impassioned choral vocals. The undulating chimes and terrace chant snark of “Why Are You So Boring” followed, sounding brilliantly clear, and we knew we were in for a good ‘un…

 

Once again, Desperate Journalist were absolutely on fire tonight, delivering another consummate performance of insouciant and aloof elegance, controlled yet gut-punching power and brilliantly effortless Bunnymen-esque cool, the surprise being just how easy they made it look, how it always seemed they were playing within themselves, but still delivering an utterly superb showing. “Hollow”’s stripped back build to its’ pounding, strident chorus was an early highlight; “Jonatan” (“about someone called Casper,” according to Jo) was underpinned with a sinister guitar riff highly reminiscent of The Cult’s “She Sells Sanctuary”; and after a taut, funky bass-propelled “Fault” (Jo spitting out the hook with bilious intent), oldie “Cristina” was my highlight of the night, breakneck, breathless and passionate. Superb! 

“Are you enjoying it?” asked a loud punter (not me, for once) of Jo, the Ice Queen immediately firing back, “Absolutely not! Get out!” Another deep cut, the libidinous, meandering “Lacking In Your Love” ceded (pardon the pun) to “Cedars”, another brilliantly wallowing and melancholy run-through of their finest number. Tour guitarist, the excellent Charley Stone, excused herself briefly prior to this one, Jo subsequently deadpanning, “you need to rely on the singer to smooth these moments over – but you don’t get that from me!” A soaring, epic “Be Kind” and potent, punchy “All Over” rounded off the set, the Ice Queen making herself scarce so the band could take centre stage for the song’s lengthy and climactic denouement, before the stratospheric hook of a brilliant “Satellite” provided the punctuation to another typically stellar 1 hour 10 minute Desperate Journalist performance. Why this band aren’t absolutely massive utterly baffles me… Drummer Caz kindly handed me her list before we wandered back to the car park, bidding Matt farewell on the lower levels then heading off, home just after 11. Three in four under way, then, and I couldn’t ask for a better band than Desperate Journalist, to kick things off in their usual superb style!

1,211 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, LIINES, London Lafayette, Saturday 19th February 2022

 

This one was supposed to be number 2 of 4 gigs in 4 days but instead ended up being the second part of a double-header; but more on that in my footnote... anyway, as amply proved at the opening date of their tour at the Thekla last month (gig 1,205), Britain’s Best Band, spritely post-punkers Desperate Journalist, are currently in dazzling form, more than worthy of a long trip to London such as this. Good thing too, as this one was booked even before the Thekla date was announced! And, if any were needed, further incentive was offered by the inclusion of Manchester’s Liines as support… this all-girl 3-piece had also dazzled in support of the bloody terrible Sleaford Mods in Bristol a couple of years back (gig 1,130), a gig during which the girls were subject to some misogynistic abuse from some Mods “fans”, and which earned me a bit of a slagging off from other Mods fans when I posted my blog write-up on a Liines facebook fan page saying so! Still, hopefully a smoother ride was due this time; or so I thought…!

 My solo status was due to DJ uber-fan Stuart, who was due to join me, sadly suffering a family bereavement so being occupied elsewhere. So I hit the M4 at 3.30, an hour earlier than I’d initially planned due to reported closures between Junctions 8 and 6. I’d decided to dump the motor in Osterley tube station car park, under the Heathrow flight path, and take the lengthy but direct Underground service over to Kings Cross, rather than brave the roads of a Capital which had been particularly hit hard by yesterday’s Storm Eunice (bits of the O2 Arena roofing being ripped off in the high winds like soggy old tarpaulin, for instance…!), so hit the venue a half hour before doors. Part of a new series of eateries and entertainment complexes at the ground floor level of a number of new build office blocks, this was a weird one; the venue itself was through a door off a small indoor central atrium surrounded by a few drinks and food bars. However, both bars I attended had little interest in serving me (one guy flatly refused, despite not doing anything else!) and, after the other one had deigned to sell me a small can of cherry soda (which was both stupidly priced at £3.50, and tasted disgustingly of chemicals!) then made a point of asking the hovering waitress/ hostess, well within my earshot, to, “stop sending people to the bar”. Fucking ignorant entitled twat!

 The venue – down a flight of stairs through said side-door into a new build but small 2-tier brick-lined room that reminded me of an old engine shed – eventually opened and I wandered down; ran into Liines drummer Leila and tried to both thank and apologise to her for getting her involved in “that” row, only she was dealing with some hassle of her own from the venue security staff and my presence only seemed to make it worse, so I excused myself and took a spot down the front, feeling uneasy and unwelcome in this venue and pretty much already just wanting it to be over! A chat with a couple of fellow front row punters brought me back into the room, as it were, so my head was on a little straighter for Liines’ onstage arrival at 7.30. A new iteration, with former Honeyblood touring bassist Anna replacing the departed Tamsin, they however seemed already well practiced in this new unit, attacking the set from the outset with the same glorious intensity and taut, wiry tension as before. Liines’ sound is replete with agitated yet insistent pin-pricking guitar lines, tough militaristic drumbeats and growling, Hooky-like bass, overlaid with a strident, commanding yelp of a vocal from Zoe. Wire or Comsat Angels fronted by Patti or Polly Jean, maybe, but more wide-reaching than that… “Find Something” featured some alarm-bell Joy Divisionesque guitar work from Zoe, “Always The Same” was a growling backbeat beast with a nagging, repetitive hook, and after a refreshment break (“we’re such beer hounds, aren’t we?” quipped Anna whilst Zoe guzzled) oldie “Cold” evoked an atmosphere of incipient tension, redolent of both those early 80’s “Two Tribes” Cold War days and the teetering tension of today’s Europe… “Shallow”’s skittering one note riffery wouldn’t have felt out of place on “Pink Flag”, and after a tremendous, stark “Never There” and thanks to us earlybirds for, “supporting the support,”, “These Days” ended another taciturn yet taut, tense and thrilling set from this seriously promising band.

 More chat with the front row boys to kill time, before the expansive Krautrock synth preamble of “Themes For Great Cities” kicked in and Desperate Journalist took the stage at 8.30, with bassist Simon right in front of me and seeming, Jim Gilbert-like, about nine feel tall onstage, and vocalist Jo Bevan, black-clad with cowgirl arm tassles swishing about, joining us last with an uncharacteristic nervous, almost coquettish wave and hushed, “hello…” Opener “Was It Worth It” quickly dispelled any nerves, though; Jo was “on it” immediately with an imperious and commanding vocal, and an early “Cristina” was also tremendous, getting me bopping as much as my knackered knee allows these days. A couple of oldies followed, namely “Hollow” (“for anyone with a Gothic persuasion”), all murky and gloomy before bursting into that strident chorus howl, and “Why Are You So Boring” (“who doesn’t love a bit of spiteful doggerel?!”). racey, sneery and deliciously snarky. Then the new material from last year’s “Maximum Sorrow!” CD once again took centre stage, with a pastoral, Smiths-like “The Victim”, a sinuous and meandering, Forbes-esque bass-riff powered “Everything You Wanted”, and “Poison Pen”, which featured an almost Mould-like squalling, discordant middle 8 overlaid by Jo aggressively shouting the odds, then a full-stop pregnant pause (I love those!).

 “Cedars” was, as ever, majestic, glorious and widescreen, but of course you know that already… suffice to say I’ve only got 2 things to say to anyone who questions the sheer stellar magnificence of this band; 1. Go listen to “Cedars”, and 2. Now shut up… The doom-laden funereal march of “Armageddon” finished the set but thankfully not the night, with the tender, touching “Be Kind” added to the hectic luge of “Control” and the soaring, joyous finale of “Satellite” for a triple-threat encore to die for, rounding off a quite brilliant set from a pretty faultless band, early but serious contenders for top “live” honours in 2022. Oh yes.

 A set-list too from a kind roadie, and a quick chat with the Liines line-up at the merch stand, hopefully clearing the air with Leila… I do hope so, I bloody love that band and would like to see them “live” over and over again! A delayed tube back to the motor and those bloody M4 roadworks however turned a 10pm venue departure into a bleary-eyed 12.30 home arrival. Yipe! So, roadworks, crappy venue with ignorant staff… a lot about tonight sucked, but 2 utterly stellar performances from Liines and Desperate Journalist saved the day. As DJ themselves ask, “Was It Worth It?” Absolutely!

 However, the footnote was the following morning, when I did my back in after grocery shopping, subsequently being referred to A&E and UTC at GWH the next day and being diagnosed with a muscular spasm due to a trapped nerve, and therefore missing the other 2 of the 4 in 4 (Echo And The Bunnymen on Sunday, and Bears In Trees on Monday – luckily my daughter still went to BIT, with mum instead!). Bollocks! Still I’m glad I spasmed after rather than before this one, at least…

1,205 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, Shoun Shoun, Bristol Thekla, Saturday 15th January 2022

 

Finally! The 2022 Gig Year gets under way! And, following the postponement of the first 2 dates on my 2022 “Spring Dance Card” (one because a band member tested positive for Covid, and the other due to more nebulous “Covid concerns” – there’s no restrictions at the moment, people, so bloody well get out and gig!!!), we really couldn’t have a better combo in prospect to kick the year off than Britain’s best band, Desperate Journalist, at the wonderfully evocative “Dirty Boat”! 2021’s “Maximum Sorrow”, whilst not being up there with the absolute cream of DJ’s album releases, still was one of last year’s best, repeated listens revealing an extra dimension to their spooky goth-inflected rockist 80’s sound, the bass and drums combo of Caz and Simon taking a more sonic lead, underpinning Jo Bevan’s as-ever insouciant, detached yet captivating vocal, with Rob Hardy’s Sargeant/ McGeoch-esque guitar licks providing more textural background patterns. Whether that would filter through to the “live” setting, however… well, let’s see!

 It being a weekend, Logan was keen to join uber-fan Stu and myself for an early drive down to the “Dirty Boat”, hitting the venue before doors and thereby requiring a trip across the road for a loo break! Stu got the round in and Matt joined us at the bar whilst Logan grabbed his (our!) usual front-and-centre spot, and we joined him for local openers Shoun Shoun at 7.30. Late replacements for the scheduled support, they kicked off with a racey, pacey opener “Much Sweeter”, with a detached and dissonant vocal from German expat Annette, which variously recalled Kleenex’s Astrid, PJ Harvey (Stu’s shout) and Drugstore’s Isobel! Subsequent numbers were variously paced, with grungy guitar riffs sharing centre stage with keyboard and violin embellishments, threatening to burst the seams of their oft-teutonic and regimented song structures, like a prisoner squirming at the restraints of their straitjacket! “Stuck”, their lockdown number, featured a fiercely yearning vocal from Annette, adding gravitas to the hook “we’re stuck together through good and bad”, and closer “Toxic” was a four-tender alarm metronome, again with thrillingly angsty vocals. Occasionally a little overwhelming sonically with too many moving parts (less is more sometimes, folks!), this was nonetheless a fine, dark and moodily mysterious set from very promising newcomers.

 We kept our stage front spots as the place filled up, whilst some way short of capacity tonight. No mind, hopes were high as Simple Minds’ sweepingly expansive euro-synth instrumental “Theme For Great Cities” heralded the entrance of the band at 8.30. Easing in with a couple of newies – the gloomy, haunting “Was It Worth It?” and the poppier yet deceptively confessional “Personality Girlfriend” – they then went all old school on our asses with a triad of utter vintage bangers. “Cristina”, breathless and taut, “Hollow” soaring and resonant, then a stunning “Why Are You So Boring”, Jo deadpanning the final verse lyrics for extra added snark and dismissiveness, and eliciting a shout of, “that was brilliant!” from a bloke at the back, Jo firing back with, “you have exceptional taste!”

 

He was spot on. Desperate Journalist were, as ever, quite brilliant tonight. The rest of the set was largely based on the new album, with bassist Simon, low slung and imposing, like a younger, gothier Peter Hook, sharing centre stage with the as-ever riveting presence of singer Jo. The sprawling, lugubrious “Everything You Wanted” was underpinned with a powerful, undulating and articulate bass riff which – and I’m sorry for not making the connection earlier, given their walk-on music – recalled Simple Minds’ virtuoso player Derek Forbes, and a later “Fault” was propelled by a rolling riff which prompted TBATB to again chip in with, “that’s proper bass playing!”. Then there was “Cedars”… the high watermark of their canon, the one that would be played on constant repeat on the radio if the tour bus ever went off a cliff (!), this is simply one of the, if not THE, greatest songs written in the last 10-15 years, and could be played on kazoos and tin cans and still sound utterly majestic. The fact they put all their collective heart, soul and tense, kinetic energy into it, as per their entire performance, was all for the better. Just wonderful.

 Encores of “Control” and the excellent “Satellite”, plus uncharacteristically fulsome compliments from Jo (“this is the most verbose crowd I’ve ever experienced in my life!” and a final “Love you!” – whaaaaat!!!) rounded off tonight’s utterly sparkling performance, Logan meeting Simon at the merch stand afterwards while picking up a singularly appropriate t-shirt (“Never Apologise, Never Explain” – excellent!). Farewells to Matt, then home early via the kebab van. What a brilliant night. The 2022 gig year is well under way, and it couldn’t have gotten a better kickstart than Desperate Journalist!

1,183 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, London Rough Trade East, Wednesday 28th July 2021

 

FINALLY! I can go back to my happy place; down the front at a gig…! 

I spoke too soon after The Shudders’ gig last August, hoping that it wouldn’t be as long before I rejoiced in the experience of “live” music again… an Autumn 2020 Covid-19 second wave saw increased civil restrictions and a subsequent post-Christmas second lockdown, with a welcome but too-tardy vaccine rollout finally promising a return to normality and “live” music over the last week or so. All in all, it’s been a long and arduous 313 days since I last experienced “live” music, and 482 days since my last paying gig! 

So, no better way to get back to it than with The Best Band In Britain right now, spritely goth-tinged post punkers Desperate Journalist… Not only releasing a new album “Maximum Sorrow”, prima facie another set of deliciously dark, dramatic and gloomy numbers for vocalist Jo Bevan to recite excerpts from her angst-ridden teen diaries over, maybe, albeit this time with a slight sonic evolution which sees more emphasis on Caz’ big pounding drumbeats and Simon’s lugubriously meandering bass lines and for me recalling the Britpop Glam stomp of the excellent Slingbacks, no less (!), but also announcing an in-store set and signing sesh at London’s Rough Trade East. I paused briefly before taking the plunge, a deciding factor being my good friend and fellow gig-counter Stu’s offer of cheap train tickets! 

So, we hit the rails at 10 past 4 for a good old catch up, tubing over to Aldgate and running the gamut of the Brick Lane Curry House barkers. Next time we might just set off earlier and avail ourselves of their wares…! Hit Rough Trade just as it was closing to prepare for the instore performance, nonetheless sneaking in for a taster of tonight’s entertainment as Desperate Journalist rounded off their clear-as-a-bell soundcheck. After a tough few months, I have to confess getting a bit of a lump in the old throatie on hearing rock music from a stage once more, and clapped when the soundcheck finished. Not sure if you’re supposed to do that; didn’t care! Grabbed a drink in the nearby terrace bar to kill time before 7 p.m. doors, then took a spot near the front of the stage, situated at the back of the shop, as the place slowly filled up and Stu had his ear talked off by a fellow punter, a Spanish lady with a Pete Doherty obsession! 

A respectable but by no means full crowd of about 50 or so punters had gathered by 8 p.m., as Desperate Journalist took the stage to a deathly hush, resident Ice Queen Jo emerging last and snarkily remarking, “alright babies?” as she took the stage. Stu had been to see Wolf Alice the previous week, and reported that vocalist Ellie was in tears at the simple joy of being onstage again after so long; no danger of any of that malarkey from Jo, although we did get a couple of uncharacteristic face-cracking grins and a bit of mid-set banter (“I said, are you all having a lovely Wednesday? Showmanship!”) before she reverted to type, firing back a sharp, “fuck you!” to a punter who cheered when she introduced an old number! 

As for the set… pretty much as I expected for the setting, a 7-song, half hour vignette, mainly showcasing new material, and as per the soundcheck sounding as refreshingly crystal clear as a spring lake after a downpour. Opener “Fault” was underpinned by Simon’s creepy bass-line and Caz’ strong-armed beats, guitarist Rob adding Sergeant/ McGeoch-like spooky textural embellishments; a poppier, almost Sleeper-esque “Personality Girlfriend” nonetheless featured a venomous snarling outro from Jo, intense and insouciant as ever; oldie and Parachute Men soundalike “Cristina” was an undulating and jagged delight and my set highlight; and sprawling set closer “Everything You Wanted” sounded almost widescreen and anthemic in nature. Performance-wise, in all honesty, it felt as though Desperate Journalist were reining it in a little (we’ll have to wait until January’s tour for the full-on in-your-face “live” experience), but that notwithstanding, it was just magical to hear “live” music, and this band in particular, once again. 

A few words afterwards with an affable band, doing the “meet and greet” thang (no photos yet, but no surprise there…) before dodging more curry house waiters on the way back to a 9.48 train which got us back to the ‘don in short order, Rach picking me up from the Station and home before 11! Easing my way back in with this one, maybe, but hey, “live” music is back at last, and I’m in my happy place again!

1,128 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, She Makes War, Oh! The Guilt, Bristol Exchange, Thursday 21 March 2019

Just over 16 months since I've last seen this lot, but it seems much longer... London's young Desperate Journalist, a band who burst into my consciousness with a series of gigs and releases recalling that dark and dramatic 80's post punk, goth tinged rock template but with their own, uniquely post-millennial spin, a band who likely already wear the heavy mantle of Best Band In Britain, but a band who I completely missed "live" in 2018, due to unfortunate gig/ holiday clashes. That year, they snuck out a very fine EP, followed by an utterly devastating single "Cedars", a precursor for this year's 3rd full-length, "In Search Of The Miraculous". Both single and album denote a slight pace-change, powering down from the often-frantic gallop of earlier releases, revealing instead an imperious, stately set of gloriously epic, soaring anthems. Brilliant stuff, most likely a serious contender for Album Of The Year (yes, already!), so a gig this time round for me was an essential date!

Not just for me; their UK tour happily included a Bristol date, so I had a full carload and a convoluted pick-up, collecting Beef, Andy, Ady and Stuart before hitting the beat route to Brizzle, parking up in a sneaky nearby spot in good time for openers Oh! The Guilt, on at 7.45. An aptly named 3-piece, as it happened, as their music seemed weighed down by swathes of remorse, starting off bleakly and funereally, before bursting into a plod (!). I'm normally one for some gloom and doom, and certainly there were interesting morose bits, but I subsequently found the female co-vocalist's falsetto really grating, so sought shelter in the bar with the boys.

Back in for main support She Makes War at 8.30; another attraction for this gig (if more were needed) was Laura's late addition to the bill as a full band showing, and, after a few years of SMW skirting around the periphery of my musical vision, I'm glad to say I'm fully on board with her now, especially so after last year's "Brace For Impact" album, which marks a progression from the wistful dreampop of yore into slightly more upbeat, grungier and more guitar-riff driven territory. After a couple of oldies for starters (a tough, haunting "Drown Me Out" a feature), this material dominated the set tonight, with a discordant "Undone", the sleek 60's film theme feel of "Fortify", the exciting Pixies-ish hobnail-booted stomp of "Devastate Me" and a powerpoppy quiet-loud "Love This Body", which for me recalled Radish's excellent "Little Pink Stars". In between numbers, Laura was also in fine fettle, referring to her band as, "the fluffers of the evening!" and urging folks to buy her merch, particularly her new album on vinyl, as it's the same colour as her dog! A spot-on support slot, which left me very much looking forward to her similar date with Juliana Hatfield in May.

Stu and I had shipped up front centre for SMW, so there we stayed as the place really filled up around us; surely this was close to, if not actually sold out on the night! At 9.30, Desperate Journalist took the stage to the excellent backing track of Simple Minds' classic "Theme For Great Cities", vocalist Jo Bevan shaking her tail feathers to it as the band plugged in. Then on with "Murmuration", which, a funereal death march on CD, really took flight "live", and any doubts that we were due to witness an utterly exemplary performance from the Best Band In Britain were quickly dispelled. The components are impressive enough; Caz, a human metronome with her unfussy and strikingly clipped drum style, Simon laying down some frankly flesh-creeping bass, Rob coaxing shimmering and resonant noise from his Rickenbacker, already having evolved his style way beyond the Johnny Marr comparisons, and Jo, wide-eyed, secret agent black-clad, buckling over in two to add further passion and strident power to her vocals. However, combined, they form a shimmering and brilliant whole, and with the new material they seem reinvented and re-invigorated, the butterfly emerging from the chrysalis.

"Boring" saw Jo speak the flippant verses, adding suitably dismissive emphasis, but after a dynamically gothy "Jonatan", with Rob's intricate riffery recalling "She Sells Sanctuary", it was "Cedars" that was the real standout gem. Already the high watermark in their canon, this was breathtakingly widescreen and soaring in its scope and conception, and executed flawlessly, already a classic, their "Killing Moon" in the making. Yup, that good.

It wasn't all sunshine and roses tonight; the sound fluctuated a little from our front row positions (too close to the action, perhaps?), and Jo continually pleaded for more vocals in her monitor, things coming to a head as she, visibly frustrated, banged constantly on her vocal pedal during "Lacking". However, a moment's pause and a beer from Caz saw her roar back to her commanding and imperious best with a galloping "Ocean Wave", a subsequent "Cristina" and closer "Satellite" both utter bangers to round off a magnificent set, most of which I'd been jumping around to like a loon, happily bouncing off some thankfully soft stage-front padding!

"Resolution", the sole encore, was a huge, fist-pimping finale, then 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and it was over, leaving me to collect my thoughts, grab some brief words with a friendly yet besieged Laura, then get the big bass fella to get my list signed by his cohorts, secreted upstairs. Gathered the troops and headed off, before a diversion off the M4 saw us tramping through Malmesbury at the dead of night, hitting the hay at 12.30 after final dropoff. Utterly brilliant stuff tonight, though, and well worth that minor hassle; it's early days, sure, but the Best Band In Britain may just have followed up a serious contender for Best Album of 2019 with a serious contender for Best Gig of 2019. Desperate Journalist are back… and how!

1,063 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, Supp. Slow Reader’s Club, Bristol Thekla, Friday 17th November 2017

Without a shadow of a doubt, Desperate Journalist are easily my favourite and most significant new musical discoveries of 2017, and are showing potential to be a “live” obsession of mine in the same vein as Seafood, The Julie Dolphin et al, so I'm certainly not going to pass up on any opportunity to see them "live" right now, particularly after their October mini-tour was a non-starter for me as it coincided with a family holiday in Kos! Thankfully, they then announced a short series of dates in support of gloomy types Slow Readers Club, and I gleefully snapped up a ticket for the Thekla gig, notwithstanding the fact that "The Dirty Boat" has become somewhat stranded on the wrong side of some confusing new traffic layouts in the centre of Bristol! Still, where there's rock, there's a way...

A perfect storm of not only the afore-mentioned new traffic priorities, a Friday night in November (early Chrimbo shopping around Cabot Circus! Yikes!) and a stupidly early on-stage time (7 piggin’ 30!) had me leaving pretty much as soon as I'd gotten home from work. Glad I did, as a ridiculous 1 ¾ hour journey, including immensely frustrating queues to clear the M4/M32 Junction, saw me parking up at doors, barely half an hour before they were on! Well, I was there at least, so I took my spot down the front, next to some beer-balancing SRC fans, who assured me I'd be impressed by the headliners. We'll see... but firstly, there’s the reason I’m here…!

Desperate Journalist took the stage prompt at 7.30, with a startlingly agenda-setting opener "Control", an explosion of soaring thoroughbred intensity and passion, powerful and strident. Then straight into the more flippant, Smiths-esque "Why Are You So Boring?", and that was it for me; I was jumping about like a loon, mirroring vocalist Jo Bevan's manic onstage pogo-ing. This lot don't fuck about with easing themselves in; it's the "full-on" mode straight from the outset!

Desperate Journalist were astonishing tonight, an object lesson in intensity and kinetic energy, the utterly riveting presence of vocalist Jo Bevan again at the heart of it throughout, with her marvellously powerful and yearning voice to the fore in the mix, her performance again thrillingly toeing the line between ferocious commitment and almost contemptuous detachment. The taut, eerie, Cure-like opening to "Hollow" was flesh-creepingly splendid, Simon Drowner's growling bass a feature, before Rob Hardy's haunting 80's pseudo-goth licks took over for the middle-eight. A newie ("about being sad... you'd be surprised..."       commented Jo ironically) elicited a chant of "journalist!" from the crowd, and by the building hook and emotion-soaked wall-of-noise middle-eight of "Be Kind" it was evident that this band have already risen above the sum of their influences into a unique, fully-formed and potentially very special band indeed. All too soon, the magnificent amphetamine rush of "Resolution" ended a quite brilliant set. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and it was over - holy hell, that was intense!

Grabbed a list, grabbed my breath and grabbed some merch, then headed out to dump it in the car, happily running into the band unloading outside. Enjoyed a chat with this young and enthusiastic band of clear 80's post-punk aficionados, with Simon remarking on my Chameleons t-shirt and also namechecking the overlooked yet excellent Scars, and Jo effusively praising XTC and relating a recent fan encounter with Dave Gregory!

Broke off the chat to check out headliners The Slow Readers Club, playing to a sold-out and fanatical crowd. They featured a solid synth base to their gloomy post-punk material, a purposeful opener recalling Editors' more electronic work, particularly in the vocalist's deep and resonant Tom Smith-like inflections. The next number was a bit more discordant (also a bit out of tune, to these ears) but overall suffered badly in comparison to the dynamism of their openers, and I gave them a couple more numbers before heading off for a considerably easier drive home. On another day I would likely have really enjoyed them, but tonight for me was definitely not their night. Tonight belonged squarely to a band who are rapidly becoming a very great one indeed;     tonight belonged to Desperate Journalist!

1,044 DESPERATE JOURNALIST, Adam And Elvis, Reading Purple Turtle, Saturday 1st July 2017

Well, since they were subject to one of my friend Beef’s now-infamous “late calls” a mere 3 months ago, my accompanying him down on short notice to Bristol Louisiana for an incendiary and revelatory show, impressive young London post-punk band Desperate Journalist have firmly ensconced themselves atop my current listening fashion. Their stellar 2017 album “Grow Up” is easily my favourite of an admittedly patchy 2017 first half, and I’ve been on the lookout for any further “live” opportunities. This, then, was a no-brainer – a Desperate Journalist gig in Reading on a Saturday night, and best of all (as I found out whilst trying online to book tix), a freebie! So, another quick chance for the band I’ve since dubbed the “Female Fronted Indie/Goth Smiths” to underline their burgeoning reputation. Excellent result!

Having been impressed by them at “Indietracks” Festival in 2015, Stuart “Langers” was also up for this one, so Beef drove the two of us up a sunny M4, the miles disappearing quickly thanks to some utterly obscure 80’s/ 90’s indie band reminiscing! Me, I was just happy that, for once, I was the youngest in the car! We parked up at the Oracle and eventually found our way around to the Purple Turtle. On Gun Street, so I was under the misapprehension that it was the site of irregular 90’s haunt The Alleycat; if so, the layout had changed considerably, a long bar leading to a small dancefloor and stage, with a beer garden off to the right at the back, rather than the previous upstairs venue. And on our arrival at 7.45, the place was deserted! Thankfully it filled out a little in time for openers Adam and Elvis at 8.10; not sure whom the name referred to (Ant and Presley? Duritz and Costello? Or just the 2 brother bandleaders?), but this was a young local 5-piece who initially kicked off with a libidinous, almost early 80’s Factory funk groove, reminiscent of A Certain Ratio or Shriekback, thence diverting into an overt yet moody, almost morose jangly pop/ angular math rock collision. As if Orange Juice and Franz Ferdinand were providing the entertainment at a wake, perhaps… this was epitomised by a cheerful little number entitled “Darker Than Black”, with almost a creepy, Hammer Horror feel, although there were also some shoutier 3 part choral “harmonies” elsewhere to lift the mood from morose to, well, angry…! A vocalist with a deep, impressive range and a vaguely unsettling stage presence (although he may have admittedly just been trying to work off his self-confessed hangover) made this an oddly confusing yet challenging set, capped by a chugging final number which recalled The Pixies’ “Into The White”. Good work overall!

A few more punters came through so the place was thankfully respectably filled for Desperate Journalist’s arrival, prompt at 9.10, onto their fairy-light festooned stage. No notice this time; straight in like a firecracker with the taut, rocking “I Try Not To”, elfin yet intense vocalist Jo Bevan already in her stride, wide-eyed, jumping around like a loon and stomping fervently on the stage, as if trying to wake the denizens of the underworld… the flippant, Echobelly-esque “Why Are You So Boring” was next up, Jo again channelling the spirit of Morrissey, bent over double, lengthy mic cord double-wrapped around her neck (I do wish she wouldn’t do that!) as the impressive rhythm section of imposing bassist Simon and diminutive yet hard-hitting drummer Caroline powered the song along. Then it was time for guitarist Rob to feature, coaxing some gorgeous resonant flesh-tingling reverb from his 12 string Rickenbacker to underpin the creepy Belltower-esque Goth mood of “Hollow”, and the haunting, widescreen “Be Kind”, which built to an impressive crescendo.

Impressive players, all, but it’s the slight yet determined figure of vocalist Jo who owns it “live”. A riveting presence, with charisma to throw away, Jo’s performance once again provided the perfect juxtaposition between intense, impassioned delivery and dismissive, almost contemptuous attitude. Largely taciturn, apart from the odd comment of, “do you like reverb? We’ve got more coming up for you guys…” her performance nonetheless commanded, nay, demanded your attention. A slow-burn yet potent “Purple” strongly recalled Boston faves The Sheila Divine’s similarly eerie “Where Have My Countrymen Gone”, a hushed “Radiating” was lovely, providing some respite from the intensity, and “Resolution” (“about a New year’s Eve party – if you’ve been to one, I hope you had more fun than I did,” remarked Jo, cryptically) was a strident, dervish delight, getting these old bones of mine really moving. A Cure-like “Organ” brought another outstanding set to a close, Jo’s primal scream rage against the dying of the light dramatic and startling. Oh my, this lot know how to turn it on “live”, no mistake”!

Hung out afterwards, enjoying a lengthy chat about influences with bassist Simon, agreeing that, given their Cure/ Joy Division/ Smiths antecedents, us over 50’s are probably their target demographic! I was impressed by their DIY attitude although that may deny them the promotional push of, say, Wolf Alice, and keep them playing smaller venues longer than their excellent music deserves. A quick chat again with Jo (who appreciated my Butcher Billy “Morrissey as The Hulk” t-shirt!) and guitarist Rob underlined that not only do we have the makings of a very special band here in Desperate Journalist, we also have a group of very level headed people who are fans and respecters of their art. More power to them, and I’ve a feeling I’ll be seeing a lot of this band!