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…

1,130 LIINES, Supp. Sleaford Mods, John Paul, Bristol O2 Academy, Saturday 6 April 2019

Another gig, after Brand New Friend earlier this year, that I'm in it just for the support! And, like Brand New Friend, I have the good offices of "Louder Than War" magazine to thank for this discovery... Jon Robb's esteemed periodical gave an intriguing review to Manchester female trio Liines' debut CD "Stop-Start" and I picked it up as a result, finding a band totally in my wheelhouse; short, snappy vignettes of sparse, moody and taut post-punk, single note guitar and bass riffs as precise as pin-pricks, clipped, militaristic yet driven drums and a strident, commanding voice somewhere between Siouxsie and Patti Smith. If Savages had been obsessed with Wire or Comsat Angels rather than Joy Division, perhaps, but either way thrilling stuff. My copy of said album actually came courtesy of the band itself; I refuse to use PayPal after being buggered about by them one time, but luckily Leila from Liines offered me an alternative, sending me a copy directly herself!

A subsequent brief correspondence revealed the band were yet to venture down this end of the country, but a support tour with Sleaford Mods gave an opportunity to catch them "live". Don't like the headliners; although I agree with much of their socialist politics, to me they sound somewhere between poor Happy Mondays and PWEI rip-offs, plus, growing up as a teenage punk in the late 70’s, I had more than my fair share of run-ins with parka-clad blokes at school, so I happily admit to a strong aversion to anything with the word "mods" in the name! However, if this was my best "in" to catch this very promising band "live", so be it...

Unsure as to tonight’s timing (Saturday O2 gigs sometimes having a 10pm curfew) I left at 5.30, following the setting sun to Bristol, then mooching around up Park Street before hitting the O2 Priority queue and getting in at 7 doors, snagging a house right barrier spot and enjoying some vintage punk over the PA (Crass, Killing Joke and Magazine) and some chat with a fellow punter (hi James!). Less enjoyable was the opener John Paul; a Guinness swigging scally rapper with a laddier John Cooper Clarke style of delivery, barking out cut-n-paste rap (lots of punk lyric references etc.) over chunky beats provided by an accompanying DJ. So not my thing, so I hit the loo; on my return the vinyl was skipping, so ultimately JP finished acapella. Laudable, but still for me a set more to be endured than enjoyed... at least at 20 minutes it was short!

So from the ridiculous to the sublime; at 8.15 and under cover of darkness the 3-piece, black-clad Liines took the stage.  Unfortunately, as they were plugging in, bassist Tamsin, onstage directly in front of me, was subjected to some unpleasant and misogynistic remarks from a few knuckle-dragging twats near me. If she had heard it (and comments from her bandmates afterwards suggested she had), she had the perfect response, rising above it and, along with her bandmates, playing an utter blinder. From the outset Liines were dynamic, taut, tight and itchily insistent, building a dark, sinister atmosphere with Leila's structured and economic drums dovetailing with Tamsin's growling, often mighty bass, providing the perfect base for Zoe's precise fretwork and commanding yet expressive and yearning vocals. And as with the excellent Desperate Journalist, this lot are much more than the sum of their parts, a band who really come alive onstage, with that same combination of moody intensity and haughty insouciance. You like us? Great. If not, well then fuck you, cos we know we're good...!

"Find Something" was underpinned with some mighty, Hooky-like bass from Tamsin; "Never Wanted This" was deliciously bleak, emotive and plaintive; and whilst the excellent "Shallow" needed a couple of attempts due to Zoe playing more chords than required (the vocalist  remarking, "we had that one out as a single without the false start!"), the preceding, angular and claustrophobic "Blackout" was great, my set highlight, Leila abandoning her usual disciplined, metronomic style to bash gleefully away like Animal from the Muppets, fringe swirling away, maelstrom-like. "Never There" rounded off a triumphant set, dynamic and vibrant as you like, waaaay better than I anticipated (and I was expecting good things...!). And this was a half-hour slot in front of someone else's crowd? Impressive. Wonder what this would’ve been like in front of their own crowd, in, say, a Thekla or Joiners… or even Vic… (well, one can but dream…!)

Anyway, I decamped to the back bar after Leila had slung a set-list my way, and chilled there awhile as the bar emptied for the headliners. As for them; well, from my vantage point I found them as aggressively ranting, potty-mouthed and monotonous as I'd feared, their "music" (i.e. backing tapes) juddering and unlistenable, so I paid them little heed. Luckily, I was eventually joined by Leila and Zoe for pics, thanks, signatures and some extensive rock chat, finding them as friendly and gregarious as they were obviously talented, and later by Tamsin, to whom I took the opportunity to apologise on behalf of those moronic punters. Before long it was chucking out time, so I bade farewell to the ladies, suffering a long diversion onto the M5 on the way home as the top of the M32 was shut. Bollocks! Still, worth it to see Liines play such a belting set; my hopes were high but were still comfortably exceeded. Ladies, you totally smashed it tonight, and one thing's for sure, on this form you won't be the support band for long...!