There’s an air of anticipation in probably the largest queue I’ve ever seen at the Cockpit and, as we stream in, delayed only by the usual guest-list fiascos that plague up and coming bands when they hit the big (ish) time, we mill around waiting for what the NME and co promise as the next must see. Maybe I’m getting cynical but I’m not expecting much, having read acres of coverage but heard very little music to justify such hysteria. So many of these bands seem to be given press on the grounds of some 40 something journo deciding that “They’re 18, they play guitar in a quite loud manner, ergo they rock and are consequently the NEXT BIG THING.” I hope to be proved wrong on this point.
First up is American support act, PETE YORN (“as in Porn but with a Y” he informs me after.) He and his band mine the same rich, American pop vein as The Lemonheads, Dinosaur Jnr and Mercury Rev (one of the band sporting a Rev T-shirt) and with it’s roots in the rock traditions trodden in the past by The Byrds, Big Star, Tom Petty and many others. With this many comparisons made already it would seem easy to write them off as unoriginal. However, as with Teenage Fanclub – if something’s this good, why not just do some more?
The throw out a jangly wall of sound: melodic pop/rock that’s more than fine by me, and, it seems, the audience. Theirs is a driving rhythm produced by bass, drums, keyboards and guitars. Classic Gibsons seem the order of the day. Their songs quickly reach crescendos, and stay there, to be terminated in true rock style with a big thumping drum finish “duh, duh, du, duh!”
They play “For Nancy” their first UK single, reminiscent of (eek!) Bryan Adams in the intro and then blending seamlessly into the heavier territory of Dinosaur Jnr. “We’re very happy to be here, supporting The Vines who are good people” drawls Pete. This is rock and droll.
Pete has Jim Morrison hair but has wisely left the beard growing to the guitarist. The band are earnest rockers and produce an excellent show. I, for one, will be investigating their debut album when it comes over here and expect to see and hear more from them soon.
After a short while, THE VINES burst on. By this time the venue is packed and it’s a struggle to see anything, let alone take photos through the fug of bodily steam that emits from the pogoing crowd. Although the atmosphere smells predominantly of sweat, beer and fags, where I’m stood, right near the front, I can detect a faint hint of sunflowers, maybe someone's perfume. This seems to pretty much sum up The Vines music too. Through all the loud guitars and screaming, lurks a pop heart with catchy songs.
It’s appropriate that I’ve been re-visiting The Pixies catalogue a lot recently as they immediately leap up as prime contenders for comparison. Their singer is vocally similar to Black Francis/ Black Frank/ Frank Black/ whatever he’s calling himself now. Visually he’s more, as my mate Owen succinctly puts it, “Like Mick Jagger after 12 pints of Stella!” I know what he means. He swings his body round, every inch the unhinged bugger he’s painted out to be.
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“We’ve come all the way from Sydney” he tells us. “Sydney Twatier” someone in the audience calls out. Like the late, great Bill Hicks, though, I like my rock stars a bit ****ed up! I can see the Nirvana comparisons but hope that the record company don’t cynically push this kid into a breakdown or whatever for a bit of cheap publicity, as they are rumoured to be doing.
The guitars alternate between strumming and thrashing, often within songs, many of which show the same understanding of rock dynamics as the bands I’ve already mentioned. There’s bowel- emptying feedback to provide a Sonic Youth-style foil to the pop tunes, some of which would fit quite happily on “The White Album” by The Beatles for instance. There, I’ve done it… I’ve compared them to my hallowed Beatles, which means I must like them! One song even starts like “Day Tripper” before melding into something Nirvana would have produced in their poppier moments, circa “Bleach” and then suddenly takes several surprise turns in all sorts of musical directions, and some odd tempo changes, amusingly wrong footing the moshers at the front who can’t seem to co-ordinate their jumping!
Songs like “John The Baptist” and “Everyone Get Free” and the single “Highly Evolved” show what they’re capable of. Derivative it may be – but that’s OK (again) by me. Shades of Neil Young also spring to mind, with feedback used as an instrument and a means to an end in itself. Craig Nicholls cements his rock cool for me by smoking a fag and holding a one note feedback drenched solo all at the same time. Cool! He finished the gig by what appears to be some genuinely deranged swinging of his guitar, preceding to then take out both the mike stand and drum kit while a roadie looks on with a face that betrays his fear for the kit and the knowledge that it’s his job to fix it before tomorrow night!
That’s rock and roll folks, but the way THE VINES do it, we like it, yes we do.
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