WARNING: This review contains the words ‘Britpop’, ‘Menswear’ and ‘Oasis’.
The video for The Brute Chorus’ Death Came Walking
Parts 1 & 2 (I've refrained from popping it up here) isn’t for the squeamish, featuring as it does buckets of fake
blood splashed liberally all over the distinctly hirsute band members (fake
blood and hairy chests...urgh...not a great look). Happily this evening the
only bodily fluid in evidence is sweat, as the group crank out their particular
blend of rockabilly, blues and pop. Sporting a modest quiff and rather fetching
moustache lead singer James manfully does his best to get the crowd going,
strutting about, lunging and throwing shapes, his vocals a mix of Lux Interior meets
Billy Childish...with a little 50s Elvis thrown in for good measure. There’s a
touch of cabaret about it all from time to time as James ramps up the energy
but hell, you’d rather your frontman give it some welly than just stand there
like a lemon eh? Good dirty fun.
The buzz around Superfood right now is roughly as strong
as a nuclear powered vibrator (that’s some buzz), mainly down to their
swaggering debut single, Superfood which shamelessly plunders Britpop’s early
golden era for inspiration. They’ve cannily kept all of their other stuff
offline for now and whilst a support slot on PEACE’s last tour have thrown up
one or two other shaky live recordings on You Tube there’s still very little
out there to judge ‘em on. The Britpop vibe’s pretty strong throughout tonight’s
set (Mansun, Blur, Supergrass, Menswear, Longpigs, Dodgy, Oasis...plus their
spiritual granddaddies The Beatles) and I’m guessing that we’re far enough away
from the backlash to see the whole era as a pretty good time for British music,
ripe for the plundering. Sure there were some bad records made, some chancers
who landed record deals when they didn’t deserve to and the whole thing
descended into a bit of a farce but that’s true of any musical ‘movement’. Superfood
aren’t merely Britpop revivalists though, they add their own special
ingredients (blueberries and quinoa perhaps?), a touch of slacker rock, a twist
of grunge and just the merest hint of psych.
With the exception of set closer
Superfood none of the songs played tonight have been heard much in public but
they’re all pretty much instantly catchy. It’s unsurprising that local heroes
PEACE are fans and it’s pretty much equally certain that Superfood are set for similar
success.
It’s been interesting reading some of the comments
about Tribes recently, they’re roughly divided into two camps, “terrible woeful
hipsters making dull uninteresting music” and “Cool as fuck!” NME gave the band’s
new album (Wish To A Scream...out May 30th) a fairly withering
review but NME often says shit just to get a reaction these days so we’ll
ignore them eh? What they do deliver (Tribes that is...NME stopped delivering
anything 20 years ago) by the bucket load are one hands in the air, grab your
sweaty mate and jump around anthem after another. Tonight’s set kicked off with
The Clash meets The Levellers of When My Day Comes, singer Johnny Lloyd (sporting
a black leather jacket with tassels on and an equally shaggily retro haircut) giving
it his best anguished rock star vocal. A sizeable portion of the crowd lapped
it up from the very first note and within a few songs an impressive pit opened
up in the middle of the room. As the gig progressed it was easy to see the
appeal. There are some great riffs, angsty outsider lyrics and reliable verse
chorus verse song structures giving you just enough of a breather to get ready
for the next bit of bouncing up and down.
They may look back to the late 60s/early 70s for their influences but they’ve picked well with recent single
Dancehall moving from Tom Petty territory into a Lynyrd Skynryd style rock out,
whilst Sons and Daughters could almost have been a lost Springsteen cover. Looking
round the faithful (and most of the people here tonight fall into that
category) Tribes’ fans are clearly a pretty devoted bunch and it’s impressive just
how many people have already memorised the lyrics to the new stuff. Johnny
repays the love by hanging over the barriers, pressing the flesh (always a
brave move) as a hundred or so moist teenage hands desperately reach out to him.
Okay, so they might not be the coolest band around and some of the tracks might
be a little bit beige in places but there’s some good honest rock in there...witness
Exhibit A How The Other Half Live, one of the set’s highlights and a song that’s
clearly benefitted from the band’s decision to record the new album in LA
(maaaaaaaaan). It prompts the biggest mosh of the night, messily proving that
there are still plenty of people willing to join this particular tribe.
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