1,301 SUPERCHUNK, Junk Drawer and 1,302 DINOSAUR JR., Man On Man, Bristol Strange Brew and London Highbury Garage, Friday 10th and Sunday 12th November 2023

 

Another very definite “double header” here; 2 gigs in the space of 3 nights, both hosted by veteran 90’s grunge-era dynamic guitar-heavy US alternative rock acts, celebrating the 30^th Anniversary of the release of their most commercially successful records! Although at the time, my then-28-year old US alt-rock heart belonged to my beloved Gigolo Aunts and their 1993 “Flippin’ Out” release, I still bought and enjoyed both Superchunk’s “On The Mouth” and Dinosaur Jr.’s “Where You Been”, and caught said acts “live” that year, the ‘Chunk headlining at Windsor Old Trout (gig 246) and later appearing on the Teenage Fanclub Anson Rooms undercard (gig 252), and Dinosaur mainman J Mascis’ noiseniks playing a dusky Sunday evening set at that year’s Reading Festival (gig 248)! For these 30^th celebration dates, Dinosaur broke cover first, announcing 4 nights (!) at London’s Highbury Garage, which Mascis devotee Tim was all over, getting us both tix for night 1 before they all quickly sold out, then Superchunk followed suit with a tour which passed through Bristol, so I hooked myself up for a trip to Strange Brew, a new Bristolian venue on me…

 Chunk was first, so I hit the road about 6.45 for a Friday drive down the M4, figuring doors at 7 so no need to rock up earlier, right? Wrong, as it happened, as support Junk Drawer had started their set at 7.15! However, missing half their set proved to be a lucky escape, as it turned out; a big guy in a kaftan never bodes well for my prog/ hippy-averse tastes, a comment about their stopping at Stonehenge on the way down from London only serving to underline this point! Their set consisted of a mulch of droney metronomic noise (one song briefly sounding like The Doors’ “LA Woman” before retreating into the sonic murk), ultra-dreary soporific balladry and an interminably long closing plod about the sky falling into the sea. Yikes! 

I took a glance around this newish but worn-in venue, a wide bar with interesting art pieces suspended from the ceiling, and a stepped open stage which I took a spot in front of, house left, as lead singer Mac McCaughan and his charges set up, before taking the stage at 8.30. A slightly different ‘Chunk line-up this time, shorn of Bob Mould’s backing boys Jon Wurster and Jason Narducy (Jason himself subbing for ‘Chunk mainstay Laura Ballance, who’s a non-toura Laura these days) and instead featuring another Laura, hard-hitting drummer Laura King, plus Ex Hex favourite Betsy Wright on bass. This line-up however immediately showed a more relaxed band dynamic than their most recent UK foray, on the back of politically-charged “What A Time To Be Alive” back in 2018 (gig 1,088). Mac announced, “We’re Superchunk; it’s been 30 years or so, some of you weren’t born then!”, before launching into the untitled opening squall of languid noise. The irresistible groove of “For Tension” followed, Mac’s few-octaves-too-high-for-comfort vocals overlaying the propulsive rhythm, getting me rocking down the front from the outset and setting the tone for the early set. The superb ascending riff and air-punching chorus of oldie “Seed Toss” (which took 2 attempts to start, Laura initially playing too fast!) was an early highlight, as it became evident that Chunk’s set tonight wasn’t a full-on start-to-finish rendition of “On The Mouth” but rather a set spotlighting its’ key tracks… 

The slower burn fire alarm blare of “Kicked In” preceded a clattering, drum-propelled “Water Wings” and a quite brilliant “Crossed Wires”, then the off-kilter strumalong and regimental drumbeat of “The Question Is How Fast” built to a circling climax, oddly bringing to mind some of The Byrds’ more psych-rock wig-outs, albeit with swathes of growling guitar overlay. Set closer “Hyper Enough” was as frantic a headlong tumble as ever (had NME scribe Simon Williams not referred to early Idlewild as “sounding like a flight of stairs falling down a flight of stairs”, he could just as easily applied that description to the ‘Chunk) before a 5 song encore, featuring a ragged yet anthemic as ever “Slack Motherfucker” and “Precision Auto”, another warp-speed hurtle, capped a splendid – and yes, fun – set which proved that despite personnel changes and advancing years, the Chunk still have it “live”. Great stuff! 

Sadly I missed a list (this being a pic I took earlier), Mac instead handing it to a fellow front-row punter, but I did get to finally meet the man after 30 years of fandom, enjoying a brief chat about Big Dipper (Mac’s Merge Records putting out The Dippah’s “Supercluster” compilation back in 2008) before hitting the road for a difficult and annoying M32-closure affected drive home. Dipper vocalist Bill Goffrier was in the UK but wasn’t able to make it to this gig; shame, that would have been something!

 A hectic weekend didn’t give me much time to relax my aching one-man Chunk moshpit limbs, and a superb family Sunday lunch at Miller and Carter got me back home literally 10 minutes before Tim arrived to pick me up for Dinosaur Jr.! So we caught up during a soggy drive up the Smoke, deciding to drive the whole way in so hitting slow traffic on the A40M but still parking up around the corner from The Garage just before doors. Grabbed a spot near the front, house left, as the place quickly filled up with black-jeaned US alt-rock grunge casualties, dragging out old school Dinosaur Jr. tshirts which largely looked as if they hadn’t seen the light of day in decades! A happy surprise about this evening’s bill was the late announcement of Man On Man as support; the new project of Roddy Bottum, formerly of plangent melodic 90’s rockers Imperial Teen, and his musical and life partner Joey, their excellent “Provincetown” album is one of my favourites of this year, with some dynamic synth propelled Stereolab-like darkwave rhythms underpinning hushed vocals and lyrics which was all about the gay life (hence the band name, I guess!). As if for emphasise this latter point, the two-piece (Roddy gesticulating and arm-waving behind the keyboards, and Joey on guitar) took the stage then shared a lengthy kiss before kicking into the irresistibly groovy opener “Showgirls”, my favourite on the album and a deliciously metronomic Sloan “I Am The Cancer” soundalike. Fears that they’d peaked early were however unfounded as the rest of the set maintained that level; “Piggy” was a sleazy grunge march, “Daddy” an eerie monotone grind(‘r) and closer “I Feel Good” was a New Order-esque synth-laden singalong. Between numbers, Joey and particularly Roddy were buoyant, voluble personalities, Joey asking, “do we have any gey people in tonight? Surely there’s more than that… time to come out tonight!” and Roddy thanking us for coming early to support the support (“do you remember when you turned up for [a great] support band? I saw the English Beat opening for Talking Heads…”) and preparing us for the impending Dinosaur sonic onslaught (“you guys are in the line of fire – shit gonna get loud!”). Great start! 

We stayed in the “line of fire” as the roadies plugged in the wall of 9 huge Marshall amps cloistered around J; then the surprising yet unmistakeable atmospherics of Echo and the Bunnymen’s all-time classic “Over The Wall” heralded the band onstage, J in front of us with his cartoon baseball cap covering his back-length white hair, Murph solid and bald, oddly resembling my father in law (!), and bassist and former Sebadoh man Lou Barlow sporting a huge tousled mane and resembling a 70’s hair band rocker! “We’re going to attempt to play “Where You Been”,” deadpanned J, and the words proved prophetic, as it took 2 attempts to kick into the delirious laze-rock of opener “Out There”; although when it did get going, it and the slow build to huge chorus hook of follow-up “Start Choppin’” both sounded tremendous, overlaid with J’s drowsy vocal slur and intricate yet squalling riffery. The hurtling drone of “On The Way” was also an early highlight, Lou preceding this by announcing, “we’re nervous! [It’s a] big London show!”

 However, while nerves didn’t seem an issue, lack of preparation subsequently did. A few of the “Where You Been” tracks needed a couple of goes to get started, roadies constantly took to the stage to swap huge lyric prompts around in front of J, and at one point proceedings stopped as they didn’t have a keyboard ready for the next number, J drawling, “we’ll have to borrow Roddy’s…” and Lou lamenting, “we’re giving our crew a workout today…”. Also, some numbers seemed rushed and haphazard, J attempting to make up for the shortcomings by piling on layers of hard riffery and noise. A bit of a shame, as “Where You Been” is a fine album, fully justifying Dinosaur’s description of “ear bleeding country”, with a definite Buffalo Springfield/ “Sweetheart of the Rodeo”-era dusty countrified vibe, if you blast past the grungy guitar noise… 

Ironically, things improved after the album run-through, as the band proceeded to invite a number of guests onstage. Amazingly, first was comedian Richard Ayoade (!), looking typically awkward and gauche as he contributed extra guitar on hard-rocking and largely instrumental “The Lung”; then My Bloody Valentine bassist Debbie Googe provided extra solidity (if such were needed) for a quite brilliant version of the classic “Freak Scene”; and finally, after a cacophonous and lengthy set closer “Gargoyle”, Primal Scream guitarist Andrew Innes and swaggering Thee Hypnotics vocalist Jim Jones (Jones remarking, “this is a fucking treat, isn’t it?”) joined J and Co for the savage proto psych-punk of the Stooges double “TV Eye” and “No Fun”. At its climax, J mumbled a quick goodbye as the band departed, following an uneven and occasionally unrehearsed, but also occasionally quite breathtaking set of potent and powerful noisy rock. As Roddy had promised, shit got loud, but actually it was never unbearable – quieter than a Bob Mould show, f’rinstance! 

Back to the car after another failed set-list attempt (bah!) and home fairly promptly for 20 to 1 after speed restrictions on the A40M hampered our egress out of town. So, overall 2 definitely worthwhile Anniversaries to celebrate; I think the consistency of Superchunk shaded it for me, but high spots aplenty in both gigs. A fine dynamic 90’s grungy guitar double-header!

1,088 SUPERCHUNK, Oblivians, London University Of London Student Union (ULU), Tuesday 29th May 2018

Of all the bands likely to take a stand against the idiocies and abominations of the current Trump administration in the US, I never expected one of them to be Superchunk! The ‘Chunk, Chapel Hill, NC’s enduring pre-grunge US alt-rock noiseniks, had never struck me as being overly political in their music or outlook, but one listen to their firmly tongue-in-cheek titled current album, “What A Time To Be Alive” put me in my place – a vitriolic attack on “the scum, the shame, the fucking lies” of the orange buffoon currently residing in the White House, coupled with the ‘Chunk’s trademark strident, frantic indie rock howl, and vocalist Mac’s entreating, one-octave-too-high-for-comfort vocals. A damn fine album, for sure, so when a London date was announced in support of said album, I was up for that too!

A quick albeit slightly damp run into London saw me park up at the Bush at 6.20, on the lookout for traffic wardens until I was legal (!), then tubing it over to ULU, one of my regular 80’s gig haunts. It’s changed a lot since then, evidenced by the fact I couldn’t find the right entrance door, eventually being pointed in the right direction by a good-natured security bod, then hanging outside said door with only one other couple for company, as no-one else was around! Eventually a small queue formed behind me, so I was first in when doors eventually opened at 7.40. Milled around as the place filled slowly with earnest looking blokes in black jeans; I overheard a snatch of conversation between 2 guys at the bar about walking football – yup, this is definitely my demographic! Took a place on the barriers, house right, for support Oblivians, on at 8.20 to a very small smattering of folk, and I immediately figured the latecomers had the right idea! A veteran Memphis trio, they were terrible, playing clumsy, hairy-arsed heavy bluesy rock’n’roll straight out of The Replacements’ dustbin. An incoherent early drum-heavy number could’ve been a Meteors B side back in the day, and quickly this hour-long (!) support set became a test of endurance, particularly after they announced they only had a couple more to play, swapped instruments around, played 6 (!) more numbers, announced they only had a couple to play – again! – then played 4 more! Much more entertaining was the scene unfolding to my right; a group of Italian rockers were trying to record the Oblivians’ set, much to the objections of the same security bod who’d helped me out earlier, then kicking off when told to stop. Why even bother!

Thankfully, they moved on after Oblivians finally finished, and Lisa joined me briefly down the front before Superchunk came on, dead on 9.45 to Bowie’s “Boys Keep Swinging”. “Last night at Leeds was like staring at a corpse!” announced guitarist Jim to a by-now respectably full ULU, the crowd taking that as a challenge with a warm reception for opener “What A Time To Be Alive”, delivered with the venom and strident intensity of old, Mac wide-eyed with righteous bile and fury. Time certainly hasn’t dimmed the fire…! “Reagan Youth” and “Lost My Brain”, both amphetamine-fast and no less pissed-off newies, followed, Mac announcing the latter as, “trying to stay sane in the face of neo-fascism,” then an early highlight with 2010’s excellent “Crossed Wires”, a gloriously infectious popcore number standing tall with Superchunk’s finest.

“Thanks for remembering us!” complimented a buoyed Mac, a punter replying, “it’s hard to forget you!” before oldie “Skip Steps 1 and 3” provided another frantic and strident highlight. The pulsating and palpable rock noise dished out tonight by the ‘Chunk was worthy of their 90’s pomp, and on a par with recent Bob Mould outings – no surprise really, as Chunk’s rhythm section tonight was Bob’s own, bassist Jason Narducy subbing for the absent Laura and complimenting regular Chunk/ Bob drummer Jon Wurster perfectly. “Break The Glass” was, “about trying not to look at your phone at 4am to see what fucked-up thing just happened in the world” – hey, I know the feeling… then melodic oldie “Driveway To Driveway” showed there was still a light touch to be had amongst the sonic assault. However, the boys were bumping up to time now, Mac announcing, “we’re just going to keep playing,” then delivering an astonishing final salvo of “Slack Motherfucker” and “Hyper Enough”, 2 of their finest, most towering terrace chant popcore moments. That’s the way to end a gig!

Caught a scrunched-up list thrown by Mac, then bade farewell to Lisa, untangling said list on the tube back to the car before a surprisingly easy drive home, back for 1am. Excellent stuff from the Chunk, harking back to their Mighty “live” pomp, but laudably, clearly with something to say about the fucked-up state of the world today. Well, someone’s got to say it, and it may as well be The Mighty Superchunk!

246 SUPERCHUNK, Saturn 5, Windsor Old Trout, Thursday 24 June 1993

Another happy birthday gig with Clive, Ady and Beef - I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than with some rock! We thought this would be a busy one (if you miss it, it'll be like 'Chunk never happened! D'oh!), so we drove down to Windsor promptly - and ended up being first in!

Support Saturn 5 played a bright set of chunky post-C86 jangle pop, with echoey vocals reminiscent of Galaxie 500, on some of their slower numbers, from the vocalist who apparently used to be with the Razorcuts! Clive had a bop down the front and I tapped a toe or two.

I had a beer in when US alternative rock reprobates Superchunk took the stage at 10, so I sat stageside during their earlier numbers and chugged my beer. However, when the 'Chunk unleashed "Skip Steps 1 And 3", I finished it promptly and joined in with the sweaty thrashing moshpit. Beads splintered asunder as I flailed about with the best of 'em (and, indeed, the rest of 'em) to Superchunk's awesome beast of a post-grunge rock noise. A great set, capped with (despite rumours to the effect that they weren't playing it anymore) a thrilling, massive "Slack Motherfucker". A perfect birthday present - happy birthday Sheriff!

252 TEENAGE FANCLUB, Superchunk, The Posies, Bristol University Anson Rooms, Saturday 16 October 1993

A packed carload for his intriguing triple-header, including a surreal situation when Ady Bevan had to drop out at the last minute, to be replaced by Clive's workmate... Ady Bevan!

Anyway, after a parking-mare (increasingly familiar at this awkward hilltop venue), we arrived just as The Posies took the stage, dead on 8. Despite their reputation, they had only one good song (their single "Dream All Day", which strongly recalled the 60's classic "California Dreaming") and beyond that were disappointingly unimpressive standard post-grunge rock fayre, with a last number featuring about a minute's worth of self-indulgent noise. The jury's out...

However, better was to follow as the mighty Chunk took the stage at 20 to 9 (midway through a pint - again! Inconsiderate bastards!) and whacked straight into their awesome rock monster of a noise. "Skip Steps 1 And 3", second number in, was the highlight of the set as the Chunk, line astern onstage, blasted it out to an appreciative reception. I got well sweaty in a growing moshpit, and thought, at the end, that this set could not be topped tonight.

But hey, I was wrong! Only the second time I've seen Teenage Fanclub, surprisingly, the first being a patchy sounding set in a Reading field 2 years ago, so my hopes weren't particularly high for this one. However The Fannies were excellent tonight! Premiering material from excellent new LP "Thirteen", their lazy, hazy, slightly-delic blend of melodic guitar rock worked a total treat. It seemed as if the whole hall was jumping to gems such as the brilliant-live "God Knows It's True" and "What You Do To Me". I hauled Clive into the moshpit for "Norman 3" and its' 2 minute hookline; absorbing rather than repetitive, and shirts were duly discarded as we went for it.

The encores "Star Sign" and "Everything Flows" (featuring a guest Posie) were also highlights of a splendid set. Not the last time I see Teenage Fanclub, I hope! Oh yeh, and afterwards we got a ball out and had a kickabout in the street by the car. A groovy evening all round!

429 SUPERCHUNK, Spaceheads, London Highbury Garage, Friday 28 January 2000

A gig sabbatical of over 2 months, over a boring so-called "Millennium Period" is finally broken, at one of my favourite venues and with the welcome return of one of the best live acts of the 1990s! Ady knocked off work early, so we and Rachel drove over, arriving at the Garage at 8 and having to queue up despite having tickets (bah!). Sorted ourselves out in time to catch the first band, an un-named mishmash of styles which showed occasional promise in a noisy Seafood-like way, with the talented drummer/ occasional guitarist propping them up considerably.

Main support The Spaceheads were a less promising proposition however; a 2 man band of percussion and keyboard/trumpeter (!), who played horrendously grating freeform jazz which lasted forever, so it seemed!

The Chunk, however, were a breath of fresh air, ambling onstage at 10 and really kick-starting this gig malarkey for the year 2000. It's been over 5 years since I last saw this awesome live beast, during which time they've mellowed out considerably, at least on their CD releases. However, they still kicked up a raucous and dynamic pre-grunge US rock fuss tonight, with Mac and Laura in particular very energetic performers. An early "Disconnected", from the new CD, became a ridiculously jolly early highlight as the moshpit expanded to encompass ourselves. The infectious "Watery Hands" was introduced by Jim as the song he wrote, when he believed he could date actress Jeanane Garofalo (!). Another great highlight was the way Mac dealt with a stagediving punter who disconnected his pedals in the process (Mac: "someone's spoiled the song and his face. I don't know which is the more disappointing", Punter: "but this is the City of London", Mac: "Yes, but this is the stage of Superchunk, so get the fuck off!")

A forceful, frenetic and frantic set climaxed with the inevitable but nevertheless wonderfully strident "Slack Motherfucker", during which I kicked into the mêlée and really gave it loads. Some serious white noise in the encore capped a tremendous, cobweb-evicting set from these past - and still present! - masters. Got to quickly chat with Jim afterwards, and also ran into Kev from Seafood to enthuse about their new record!