Wunderhorse are on the up and up. In the past six months alone they’ve supported Fontaines D.C. on US and UK tours, released their debut album (Cub), and joined Pixies on a 16-date European jaunt.
They’re now on a national headline tour that’s almost entirely sold out. And all over the 1500-capacity Electric Ballroom are posters advertising their upcoming November show at O2 Forum Kentish Town, a venue that packs in almost 1000 more people than tonight.
A Mötley Crüe tour could be sponsored by, say, Jack Daniels, suggests Ben Gibbard from the Royal Albert Hall stage. Death Cab For Cutie’s current tour, he continues, should be sponsored by Boots.
It’s a line that draws the intended laughs, but completely downplays what the frontman’s faced over the past month. After having to cancel three shows last week, Gibbard revealed in a heartfelt statement that he’d completely lost his voice. The reasons included a tight, post-pandemic schedule that left little time off for recovery between shows. Oh, and he’d caught a cold that attacked his vocal chords, three gigs into a 22-date European and UK trek. Not exactly ideal for a singer.
“We finally made it. Sorry for the delay,” deadpans Eels frontman Mark “E” Everett early during the band’s highly energetic, hugely entertaining Roundhouse gig.
It has been a minute — and not just since the band visited the UK. In fact, their London show is (almost) a night of firsts. It’s the first full gig they’ve played in four years (apart from Nottingham last night). It’s the first time they’ve ever played songs like Steam Engine, Amateur Hour, The Gentle Souls, and Good Night on Earth to an audience (apart from Nottingham last night). It’s the first time they’ve played the sublime title track of 2018’s The Deconstruction (apart from — well, you know the drill by now).
Memento Mori is an anomaly. Album 15 of a 40-year career is supposed to be business as usual. It’s supposed to be slightly worse than the one that came before, which was slightly worse than the one that came before. It’s supposed to have a lead single that sort of sounds like a big hit from the back catalogue, plus a bunch of other songs that sound tired at best. It’s not supposed to be a time for firsts. And it’s really not supposed to be this good.
You can tell a lot about a musician by the artists they choose to cover. During Marcus King’s epic performance at O2 Forum Kentish Town, the 27-year-old singer/guitarist/virtuoso from Greenville, South Carolina tackles tunes by the likes of Blind Faith, Marvin Gaye, and Jimmy Cliff. Even Elton John’s Madman Across The Water gets a look-in. But these are no straightforward copy-pastes; King reimagines and inhabits these songs with all the skill and confidence of someone who’s been playing shows since the age of eight.
Blame Kurt Cobain. By nicking and mainstreaming the loud-quiet-loud dynamic of, say, Gigantic, then crediting Pixies, he effectively reduced them to one-trick ponies in popular culture.
But the band have always been so much more, so much weirder, than simple sudden changes in volume and intensity. Their debut EP begins with a stuttering twangy surf guitar lick. It features what sounds like a folk song on meth about the “son of incestuous union”, and a pumped-up polka partly sung in Spanish.
Chappaqua Wrestling frontmen Charlie Woods and Jake Mac met at school when they were 14 years old.
They both liked the indie music of the time. But, growing up in “boring suburbia” outside Brighton, what really cemented their friendship was a shared love of Manchester bands like New Order, Joy Division, and Happy Mondays.
“When you find someone who has an interest in what you’re doing, when you find anyone who’s on the same wavelength, when it feels like you’re in this sea of people who just don’t get it, those relationships are so, so special,” remembers Woods.
Tonight, there are plenty of reasons to celebrate. The Hold Steady have hit their 20th anniversary this year. The band are weeks away from releasing a new album. They’re in the middle of their annual three-day London residency, appropriately named The Weekender (after one of their songs). Hell, it’s a Saturday night. In Camden.
“London, I’m coming for you,” declares Justin Schlosberg. Like a football player about to take a penalty, his posture changes. And, as the rest of Hell Is For Heroes rage through the remainder of Five Kids Go, the singer jumps from the stage. Of course, the Hammersmith Eventim Apollo audience catch him. It’s the kind of behaviour they’ve come to expect from the frontman. He’s already crowd surfed while singing, with corded mic and all, having emerged from the audience during To Die For’s instrumental intro. He’s already done an almost handstand on Joe Birch’s bass drum and leapt over it like an Olympic hurdler.
The Black Angels have never hidden their influences. Named after a Velvet Underground song, they even namecheck the band’s members — alongside other guiding voices like Syd Barrett and Arthur Lee — on The River. A gentle ’60s folk acid trip, it’s one of 11 tracks from latest album Wilderness Of Mirrors performed during a mesmerising show that celebrates both their own legacy and those pioneers of psychedelia who made their career possible.
Nils van der Linden