1,262 THE PRETENDERS, Bristol Thekla, Friday 10th February 2023

 

Whoa, hold on… The Pretenders? At The Thekla? The Thekla? Yikes!

 I’d liked post-punk New Wavers The Pretenders fine back in the day; picked up their 1979 debut album and in particular played the frantic, amphetamine gabble of “Tattooed Love Boys” to death, thoroughly enjoyed their set supporting U2 at Wembley in 1987 (gig 81!) but really took it no further. However, I’ve recently revisited their output and latterly come to love their stylish and crafted, occasionally blues-tinged post-punk rock, and of course reckless Rock Icon Chrissie Hynde’s deliciously unmistakable contralto vocals. Their set at Lydiard Park in 2018 (gig. 1,099) supporting Simple Minds (and comprehensively blowing them into the weeds) was excellent, playing them firmly on my radar for future gigs. This one, however, was a real “jump or miss out” moment, as they announced a small venue tour which predictably sold out within hours! “Absolutely no hits whatsoever. Well, maybe a few”, according to the advert strapline quote from Chrissie herself – hey, don’t care, play what you like, it’ll just be worth it seeing this hallowed band close-up!

 Cognisant of wanting to grab a parking spot outside this 400-capacity venue, I set off early doors, nearly hitting a deer at Leigh Delamere, but arriving in good time, squeezing into one of the Thekla car park’s narrow spaces and joining the veteran queue at 20 past 6 for 7 p.m. doors. Pitched up house right second row, behind a friendly couple from Fairford (hi Simon and Fran!) and enjoying some gig chat as the place filled up. A quick loo trip as the roadies busied themselves just after 8 nearly proved problematic, as some jerks by the mixing desk wouldn’t budge, but I squeezed my way back in good time before the Wagnerian operatic backing track welcomed The Pretenders onstage at 8.30, Chrissie taking the stage last after her young band. A couple of newies kicked things off; a hard-edged, sleazoid “Losing Sense” and a melancholy “A Love”, given extra yearning depth by Chrissie’s unique quivering vocal style, The Voice gaining a little more dark smokiness with age, but still indubitably Chrissie. Then “Kid”, 4^th number in, was simply magnificent; gorgeous and hauntingly sombre, and again overlaid by a superb vocal, dissonant and insouciantly cool.

 

This set the tone for proceedings; a few (relative) newies, a few deep cuts and a smattering of those 80’s chart hits, but essentially the band playing what the hell they like, delivering a relaxed yet splendid performance. “What a great little gig [venue]! People asked why we’ve downgraded [to smaller venues]; because it’s fun!” gushed Chrissie prior to the highlight from recent album “Hate For Sale”, a lush and emotive “The Buzz”, apparently reworked “in the style of Johnny Thunders!” yet approaching “Kid” for sheer emotiveness. “Domestic Silence” showcased virtuoso guitarist James Walbourne, the rocker axeman really putting in a shift tonight with some impressive shredding; then the chugging groove of “Don’t Get Me Wrong” heralded an excellent set mid-section, highlighted with “Biker” (“my favourite song,” according to Chrissie) and the smooth jangle of “Talk Of The Town”. Some subsequent rockier New Wavey numbers seemed to suffer from the guitar mix, Chrissie getting clearly agitated and shouting at the sound-guy to “turn it down!!”, but by the undulating melody and insistent jangle of “Back On The Chain Gang” things seemed sorted, at least from my spot underneath the ceiling-hung speakers! Closer “Junkie Walk”, a song I’m not fond of on record, made much more sense “live”, the terrace chant swagger morphing into an NYC Lou Reed sleaze march, Walbourne stepping forward and delivering the strident middle-8 riff practically on top of us!

 

“We’re on a boat! What if it goes down… what a legacy!” quipped Chrissie after taking the stage for the encore, before giving us some more sage advice; “never board a plane with someone more famous than you; if it crashed, you’ll be known as, “also killed was…”!” Point taken! Said encore saw Chrissie throw a bone to us oldies, with a couple of first-album deep cuts; firstly a gravelly, growling and sinister “The Wait”, then a breathless and frankly incendiary “Tattooed Love Boys” Chrissie leaving us with, “thanks for being a fun crowd!” following this, predictably my set highlight. A friendly roadie handed me the drummer’s list and a copy to a fellow front row punter; then in a display of appalling self-entitlement, some big bloke came up and snatched it out of his hands! If you’re reading this, mate, you’re an asshole of the first water, and you don’t deserve ever to go to a gig again… A slightly jarring note to end the evening, but I nonetheless bade warm farewells to my Fairford friends, picked my way through Bristol roadworks and home for 11. Glad I jumped for this one; Chrissie Hynde may be 71 years young, but tonight she delivered another splendid, age-defying performance, backed ably by her excellent young charges. Once again, the Pretender was the Real Deal!

1,099 SIMPLE MINDS, PRETENDERS, KT Tunstall, Swindon Lydiard Park, Friday 31st August 2018

My 1,099^th gig and quite possibly the first I’ve ever cycled to! I’d ummed and aahed about this one for awhile, blanching at the – as ever for Simple Minds, it seems – shockingly steep ticket price, before finally taking the plunge. Truth to tell, after a variable showing last time out from da Minds (the Oasis gig, 3 years ago, gig 947) and a bit of research indicating that current sets weren’t delving as much as hoped into the Scottish veterans’ pre-“Don’t You (Forget About Me)” canon, when they were cutting-edge and inventive electronic-tinged post-punk, I might have given it a miss totally. However, the presence on the bill of The Pretenders, a band I’ve recently revisited after reading vocalist Chrissie Hynde’s excellent autobiography “Reckless”, strengthened the case for going. I’d only seen them once before, on a U2 bill back in the 80’s; about time I did again!

As I mentioned, I cycled to this one – luckily our friends Debbie and Steve live very close to the Park, and were happy to offer safe haven for my vehicle. Left the bike there just after 6 and wandered around to the gig site, a large cordoned off space on the main field, to find it already amply full and opener KT Tunstall rounding off her set… apparently they’d brought forward the scheduled start and subsequent stage times. No problem, wasn’t that fussed on KT anyway… Wandered into the “Golden Circle” at the front (yup, I’d shelled out big-time for this one – no point in going if you’re a dot in the distance, really!), and hooked up with Stuart “Langers” and his wife Lorraine (whose presence there tonight was also a factor in the final decision) and caught up, whilst also being vaguely amused by the repeated announcements stating “The Pretenders request that during their performance, you keep your phones in your pockets”, in a surly Scottish accent, the tone of which potentially suggested mayhem and violence would ensue, should said request not be met…

The Pretenders came on just about 7.15, the guitar boys decked out in black country rock chic; then Chrissie emerged, already totally owning it and strutting her stuff, the Queen of Glam Punk, resplendent in iridescent off-pink jacket and thigh-length suede boots, leading her charges through opener “Alone” a Max’s Kansas City 70’s proto punk bluesy stomp. The highlight came early, 4^th number in; dedicated to founder Pretenders Pete Farndon and James Honeyman-Scott, both taken too young back in the 80’s (“put the kettle on lads, we’re not far behind you,” intoned Chrissie, poignantly), “Kid” was an utterly majestic, genuinely affecting and brilliantly melodic 3 minutes of pure pop delight, prompting me to announce to all and sundry at its’ conclusion, “we might as well go home now, we’re not going to hear anything better than THAT tonight!”

Photo courtesy of David Littlewood. Thanks David!

The set never regained that height, but was still pretty bloody splendid; Chrissie, jacket off now, wittered enthusiastically about meeting the ponies by Lydiard Church earlier (“gypsy ponies – a schoolgirl’s dream come true!”) and playfully advised us not to look at the sun until it touched the horizon, but mostly delivered hit after hit from The Pretenders’ impressive canon. “Private Life” was stretched and libidinous late night dirty reggae sleaze, “I’ll Stand By You” (covered by Girls Aloud – “it’s not my favourite song anyway, they can have it!”) was a stately power ballad delivered by Chrissie in her distinctive wavering contralto, and “Back On The Chain Gang” and “Don’t Get Me Wrong” were a splendid and laconic post-punk 80’s rock mid-set double. “We’re here to rock!” Chrissie announced, and no more evidence was required than set closer “Middle Of The Road”, a far-from MOR racey stomper. I could’ve done without the drum solo (really?) but that aside, this was a lean and mean performance, with Chrissie the star; far from a pretender, tonight she was The Real Deal.

A short delay filled by rock chat with Stu and some old 80’s classics over the PA; also a chat with an old friend (hi Alison!) before the colourful neon backlighting heralded Simple Minds’ entrance at 8.45, opening with expansive stadium pop newie “The Signal And The Noise”, mainman Jim Kerr already requesting hands aloft. “Waterfront”, next up, featured some nice guitar licks from faithful wingman Charlie Birchill and early doors it seemed to be going swimmingly. However, they then made an utter pigs ear of oldie “Love Song”, completely mistiming the chorus entry, and even after they recovered, it felt a little flat. A shame. Fair play to Jim; he admitted, “we screwed up “Love Song” tonight,” during a monologue recalling that last visit to Swindon (“before the gig I was dying!”), but then “Promised You A Miracle”, featuring KT Tunstall on co-vocals, was ham-fisted and clumsily stompy, bass-drum dominated and lacking its’ usual plangent majesty.

Such was the way of it tonight; the newer, stadium-friendly wallpaper pop tunes sounded better, whereas the older numbers were delivered carelessly and perfunctorily. “The American” admittedly escaped largely unscathed, and “Someone Somewhere In Summertime” was easily my set highlight, stripped back and widescreen, but whereas this seemed effortless, the rest of the set felt laboured by comparison. Set closer “Don’t You (Forget About Me)” saw phones sprout around me like a field of sunflowers in super-fast forward, and I wished for a surly Scotsman to make an announcement…! This, my watershed Simple Minds number (love all before, lost interest thereafter), saw a lengthy and communal singalong from this audience of largely Friday night date couples, and even the cameramen on each side of the stage joined in with the “la, la la la la”’s as Jim asked us to sing along in different languages! A couple of decent semi-oldie encores and a wry band intro (“… and my name’s Mr. Kerr… taxi for Kerr… pizza for Kerr!”) rounded off a performance which tonight’s crowd lapped up, but left me scratching my head a little and lamenting opportunities missed.

A wander back to get my bike and an eventful ride home (involving my hitting a pothole on the main road by the Link Centre – yipe!), reflecting on tonight’s gig. Simple Minds, for me, were empty stadium rock bluster with only occasional (and frustratingly spoiled) glimpses of the fine band they used to be, so unless they do another “5x5” tour I reckon we’re done now. Worth it though, overall, for some time in the company of Chrissie, the Great Pretender and the Star Of The Show!