Sometimes when you go to a Showcase gig, you are really excited about one band and one band only. You can’t help it, you know you should give the other bands a chance but it’s just a nagging feeling that won’t go away. Tonight I am REALLY looking forward to seeing The Lost Boys.
So when Gecko‘s harmless blues tinged pub rock washes over me fairly inconclusively, the night seems to be chugging along as scripted. The Southampton 3 piece are good players, they’re pretty tight but it is always difficult when the drummer is the singer as well. Russ Diapper has a pretty decent rock n roll voice too but despite their abilities as musicians, guitarist Stef Richfield and bass player Rich Brewer are no showmen. Their lack of stage presence just highlights how unspectacular the material is. It’s solid but it just lacks anything to make it memorable. And this is despite Richfield’s over-the-back-of-the-head guitar playing antics.
Moody Tuesday are getting better all the time as a band. They are tighter than before and the songs revel in a rawness and an energy that takes the night up a notch. Sure, Dave Boyd is still finding his feet as a vocalist and the melodies aren’t always on the money but these are likeable songs from a likeable band. The laddish anthem “Boys Day” does exactly what it says on the tin, springing The Holloways and “Parklife”-era Blur to mind. The bluesy “Sorry” gets a welcome airing tonight and the raucous “Mirror, Mirror” shows bass player Stuart Dornan to be a more than capable vocalist.
Having only been together for a year, London based four piece Karmine are an impressive act. They give an air of owning the stage and knowing how to get a crowd onside. Indeed the number of punters visibly increases during their set to marvel at their mix of dirty blues and raw garage rock n roll. Charlotte Kavanagh is a terrific frontwoman. She oozes confidence and sex appeal with a voice that is soulful and exhilarating. There’s almost an air of danger about her which makes her and the band all the more watchable.
With such an energetic show from Moody Tuesday and a polished and impressive set from a band such as Karmine going on before them, a lot of headlining bands would run for cover. Not The Lost Boys. They raise their game to dizzying heights. Indeed they even have the balls to open their set with their finest moment to date and also the finest indie pop song that this humble hack has heard by anyone – yes, anyone – this year!
(The Lost Boys)
“Flowers” recalls so many things that have made so many great acts as great as they are. The lyrical poise of Squeeze, the sunshine pop and boy-meets-girl element of Nick Heyward, the downright Englishness of Madness and a gritty guitar solo and sound that immediately recalls The Jam. And I haven’t even mentioned the harmonies! The harmonies hit you like sunshine through freshly drawn curtains on a summer’s morning. Jesus, if the chorus of “Flowers” does not bring a smile to your face and make the hairs on your neck stand on end you really should check your pulse. Really.
Not only do they open with their finest song, The Lost Boys then launch into a faithful rendition of “All My Loving” as if that was the only thing that anyone would do that early in the set. The Squeeze comparisons then pop up again as the lyrics of “Chat You Up” recall Chris Difford at his peak.
The wonderfully easy on the ear pop nugget that is “Tiffany’s Man” goes down a storm and the set ends without frontman Dan Ash’s guitar and a no holds barred rendition of “Simple Mind” which is another perfect example of Ash’s lyrical gift.
The band themselves say they’ve had smoother gigs but it’d be wrong to say that tonight has been anything other than a triumph. The thing with the The Lost Boys is that these songs seems so easy to them, it all comes across very natural. This line up has not been together for very long so they can only get better which is both an incredibly exciting thought and almost a scary one. Dan Ash, Shaun Ashley, James Millar and Jason Daniels make up a very special band. You should cherish them.
Paul Lane.
Unplug The Jukebox 