Therapy? Newcastle Academy, 24th April 2015

Therapy?

Newcastle Academy, 24^th April 2015

This was always going to be a special day for me. You get days like that sometimes, where all of the things that you're excited about happen at once. First and foremost I was off work, which is always pleasant. Secondly, it was pay day, meaning I could afford to go and enjoy myself. Thirdly, being the massive geek that I am, I had arranged to meet a friend to go see Age of Utron. The final piece of my jigsaw of awesome was the fact that my favourite band in the world was playing in town.

I love Therapy?. Absolutely love them. From the age of 14 or 15 when I heard the song 'Auto Surgery' on a Kerrang! compilation tape (yes, a tape. Digital downloads were a twinkle in some nerd's eye at the time) I was hooked. I'm now 34 years of age. In that time, friends and family have came and went, I have became more fat, grey and grumpy, and Newcastle United have still won nothing. Other than my team being shit, one thing has been a constant in my life for the ensuing 20 years: and that thing is Therapy?.

There is a certain darkness about their music that has always appealed to me. Unlike a plethora of other rock bands for whom 'darkness' is part of the image, something contrived or done out of expectation, with Therapy? there has always been an honesty. When you hear Andy Cairns singing “Don't tell me everything's alright. And don't include me in your straight life,” you know he means it. They are also a band who have remained brilliantly consistent for their whole career; a comment I could never level at some of my other favourite bands. Much as I love Metallica and Pearl Jam, they have undoubtedly released patchy albums over the years. Even bands I respect greatly, like Clutch or Every Time I Die have had their less-than-inspirational moments. Therapy?, however, have done two things: never repeated themselves and never let their standards drop. How many bands could look themselves in the mirror after 25 years of existence and say that?

So the film was fun (but that's another blog for another day) and the beer and company were excellent as ever. So much so that we arrived at the venue in time to miss both support acts. I happen to know that Ashes Of Iron are an excellent band, who opened for Therapy? on a previous tour. Apologies to all concerned that my love of bourbon and bullshitting won out over my curiosity over support acts.

Expecting the set to be light on Troublegum (not so, as it happens) and heavy on new album Disquiet we watch with a prickle of excitement and anxiety as they walk on, beaming from ear to ear, and tear into the barrage of riffs and pain that is recent single 'Still Hurts'. Despite the song being new and relatively unfamiliar most people in the room seem to be singing along to that glorious melody from the bridge section: “this feeling's never left me, I want an easy mind” and you can tell every person singing it really means it. Game on, gentlemen.

Much like their last two visits to this room, on which the Crooked Timber and A Brief Crack Of Light albums were heavily represented, a lot of the set is drawn from their fantastic new record, Disquiet. It's a more straightforward, less experimental album than the two predecessors, with moments that could easily have been drawn from the likes of Weezer or any number of U.S. 'punk' bands of the last 20 years, had their singers suffered a severe emotional trauma. That's no criticism at all, but some of the songs are almost pop-punk in their simplicity and melody, but still drawn from the dark and turbulent place that is Andy Cairns' mind.

The jubilant reception that greets songs with gloomy names like 'Isolation' and 'Die Laughing' is an irony that always makes me smile. Of their older material we get 'Nausea', 'Potato Junkie', 'Stories' and a stunning 'A Moment Of Clarity'. 'Screamager' and 'Teethgrinder' and so ubiquitous to their sets that it would be sacrilege not to hear them. When Disquiet is visited we are treated to the likes of 'Tides', 'Idiot Cousin', 'Torment, Sorrow, Misery, Strife' (introduced as a song you can hum on the way to the supermarket), 'Words Fail Me' (which is urgent, fast and full of mania) and an epic, crushing 'Deathstimate'.

Now it can be a real drag when when bands promote their new albums: you tend to want to hear the old classics, the songs that first drew you to the band. However the band want to promote their new album, play the songs they're still proud of and excited about playing and as a result you politely tap your foot and sing the few bits you can remember from the chorus. Been there before? Me too. When you go to see Iron Maiden, which song are you more excited about hearing: 'Isle Of Avalon' or 'Hallowed Be Thy Name'? Tonight was an exception to the rule, and it's credit to the quality of Therapy?'s recent output and the sheer passion in their performance that the crowd go absolutely mental for the newer songs.

The band themselves are brilliant throughout. It's hard to believe that these guys are in their mid/late 40s and have a good 25 years of wear and tear under their belts, such is their energy and enthusiasm. The smile on Michael McKeegan's face never falters and it's a nice thing that an audience can still make him so happy after all those years. Cairns plays impeccably, his wry wit coming through in his banter with the crowd. Their secret weapon is Neil Cooper who is a talented drummer and whose talents are used to such effect that songs are given an extra level of depth through his off kilter rhythms and fills.

They pull an odd choice out of the bag when they play 'Skinning Pit'. It's probably the most sinister song I've ever danced to, and I had forgotten both how good it was and that I was 11 years of age when it was released. Cairns teases us with a few bars of The Beatles' 'Nowhere Man' before tearing into set closer 'Nowhere' which is played with such glee and enthusiasm that you forget they've played it at nearly every show since 1994.

My friend sums it up perfectly when he says “that's as close to a religious experience as I ever get.” It's no exaggeration or hyperbole; this band matters to us. From the days when I would listen to Troublegum over and over, lyrics like “here comes a girl with perfect teeth, I bet she won't be smiling at me...” have been burned onto my psyche ever since. As they were last time I saw them, tonight they were the perfect live band. The only sadness I experience when I leave comes with the thought that there surely can't be many more years of this. Nights like this are to be cherished because surely we can't expect another 25 years of being shown through the scary corners of Andy Cairns' thoughts, can we? But for all the time we are lucky enough to get with them, I'll be front of the queue for tickets.

Lower Than Atlantis, Newcastle Riverside, 12th April 2015

Lower Than Atlantis

Newcastle Riverside 12/04/15

This was one of those shows I almost didn't bother going to. A band I like but don't (quite) love, a show that I couldn't convince anyone to go to (not that I tried very hard, but still...) and an audience that I had decided well in advance was going to be horribly young, horribly hip and horribly horrible (correctly, as it turned out).

Avoiding monsoon conditions on an otherwise sunny Sunday afternoon, I arrived at the venue bright and early to see a lengthy queue full of tight jeans, waxed hair and carefully attended beards and decided to hit the nearest pub instead of stand among them and be the oldest guy at the disco. Deciding to try the resurrected Popolo's, I found largely the same crowd (but old enough to drink) inside, enjoying the contrived décor and elaborate cocktails. Still, a vast improvement on whichever identikit Quayside shithole was here before.

In the length of time it took me to down a very expensive glass of vodka and coke, I contemplated the night's entertainment. Lower Than Atlantis are from London (Watford, according to Wikipedia) and you really can tell when you hear frontman Mike Duce sing. However, through a combination of witty lyrics, heartfelt delivery and catchier-than-the-cold melodies, he manages to make this seem endearing rather than irritating. They took a while to grow on me but have done so like the fungus on my feet; I can't quite get rid of them (from my ipod, not my feet) but at the same time I'm slightly embarrassed by it. I feel like I'm too told to enjoy this band and, having grown up through the golden era of Britrock, can't help but feel like I've heard it done before. Indeed, the kind of melodic, tailor-made-for-stadia rock that they peddle is the sort of thing that Terrorvision used to do and that Ginger Wildheart can still write in his sleep. The likes of Ash, A and Skyscraper (look them up, you won't regret it) were doing this nearly 20 years ago and were pretty damn good at it.

LTA, however, do have an ever-increasing array of quality tunes, a way with words and a knack for crafting a simple but effective earworm. A lazy journalist might call them the UK's answer to the Foo Fighters or Jimmy Eat World, although this is slightly unfair because LTA may, unlike those two, still be capable of surprising us. I'm not a journalist, but I am lazy, so the comparison is good enough for me.

So I came along tonight on the strength of some good, catchy and genuinely endearing tunes and a band with a boatload of potential. I arrive poorer but drunker to find the place already wall-to-wall and seemingly enthralled by a band called RVRIS. Without having heard them before, I had already kind of heard them before. The sort of band that is branded 'rock' because they have a guitarist, who plays all the same notes as the keyboard player so there's no dynamics at all and only a beat to pick out from the noise. The singer seemed like she was a lot of fun but the whole band seemed to be more focused on their clothes than their songs: to my jaded eyes they looked like somebody had sent them into H&M on a dare to buy all of the most embarrassing clobber they could find.

Next up was We Are The Ocean, a band I had actually heard of but will hopefully never have to hear again...

Anyone remember mid-1990s 'grunge' also-rans Bush? The singer fathered a model, married Gwen Stefani and then sold millions of records to Americans who were bored of Pearl Jam and wanted to listen to a poor imitation of Pearl Jam instead of Pearl Jam themselves. Well, Bush were terrible and memorable only for Gavin Rossdale's amazing cheekbones (look them up, you won't regret it...). We Are The Ocean are in the same category: cheekbones over tunes. The musical equivalent of a fashion catalogue: populated by beautiful people that you'll forget about as soon as you stop looking. Granted the singer has a very good voice but he seems to do the same thing with it on every song. An embarrassing song about still being able to smell some poor lady's perfume was followed by an even more embarrassing song about being bitter at parents. They fucked off after some indeterminate length of time, leaving some of the crowd inexplicably impressed. It was an overwrought non-event to my ears but hey, each to their own.

LTA have a lyrical knack for two things: alternatively, disarming, almost confessional honesty and a brash confidence which borders on arrogance. Their songs can either be quite moving portraits of events in Mike Duce's life or attention grabbers about their career and how ace they are. I wondered which would come across in their performance.

They open with recent single 'Criminal', all soaring chorus and insistent riff. The kids go apeshit and it only takes until they play older tune 'Far Q' for a (really quite soft) moshpit to kick off. The latest album Lower Than Atlantis is understandably well represented with the lighter numbers 'Emily' and 'Words Don't Come So Easily' getting great responses. Indeed, Duce asks the audience which of us had only recently became fans. Surprisingly few hands go up, suggesting that they are already gathering quite a loyal fanbase. Disappointingly, only 'Something Better Came Along' is played from 2012's excellent Changing Tune album.

The band play well, but it feels like there's something not quite there, as if 100% is not always being given. While lead guitarist Ben Sansom quietly does his thing and bass player Dec Hart looks like the happiest guy in the world throughout, it strikes me that something seems off about Mike Duce. His voice is strong on record but tonight it seems like something is missing; he isn't holding the notes as long as he should and he seems quite low in the mix at times. It doesn't spoil much unless you're a picky bastard like me, but he does come across as quite reserved when he's singing. His confidence comes across much more when he addresses us between songs and it's this kind of stage banter than can cement a band's reputation, getting the crowd on side.

Towards the end, Duce asks the audience to separate (easier said than done, given the dearth of space) so he can stand in the middle of the floor to play a sad song called 'Another Sad Song' on his own. Now this can easily go wrong and by his own admission he would “look like a massive wanker” if it did. Fortunately it's really well received and makes for a nicely intimate moment.

The biggest cheer of the night goes up for older single 'Deadliest Catch' (the lyrics are a witty twist on the adage 'plenty more fish in the sea'). It's by no means their best song, but people go nuts for it. They close with a stomping 'Here We Go', which is surely set to be their calling card for years to come.

So overall a good but not quite great night. They played well but didn't excel, didn't play all of the songs I wanted to hear and sometimes sounded a bit shy. But to leave on a positive, they filled this place and seem to have some young and loyal fans. I have some faith that these guys will get bigger and better and tonight is just another rung in their slow ascent to Wembley Stadium.

Special mention must go to the enormous waistcoat-clad hipster stood in front of me, who looked like a bouncer that forgot to stop at the door. He only seemed to know songs from the new album and I have never in my life seen somebody look so terrified in a moshpit. Hilarious.