The past
is yours but the future’s mine…
So sang
one of the most influential bands of my lifetime. The ironies of such youthful
statements of intent are apparent for all to see. Hindsight is after all the
only exact science! It is perhaps sadly no surprise then that presented with
two of the finest young bands doing the rounds in England at the moment that
the audience that these bands deserve was largely confined to us that were old
enough to have bought the Stone Roses eponymous album the first time round.
The aptly
named Loft in Portsmouth is a great little venue. Its tight confines are ideal
for generating a natural energy. The stage is no higher than a milk-crate and
not a great deal wider. Confronting band with audience is a good thing. Fight
or flight or simply engage the only choices.
We arrived
too late to see or hear The Cartels, but had the absolute pleasure of hearing
Southampton’s finest sons The Costellos’ full set and was hugely impressed by
their energy and musicality. Those outside the South Coast may not be aware but
coming from the ‘Scum’ to Pompey is tantamount to taking your life into your
own hands. The guitarist’s mum splashing her pint over my brand new Florsheim
suede drivers is similarly treading a fine line indeed, however back to the
music…
Where the
Costellos succeed is that the song comes first. Their undoubted musical ability
is kept in check ensuring the song is greater than the sum of its parts – all
great songs have this and all great artists know it!
The Rhythm
section is solidly layered, Tomi’s drums anchor the effervescent and nimble
bass-player Harry, who’s cork-screw Side-show Bob hairdo, like his playing, is
in danger of getting out of hand without it’s weighty assurance. Together
though, the rhythm is tight and dependable allowing the dual guitar sonics of
Declan and singer George to give the songs the rich melodic hooks that draw in
the audience.
Neither
guitarist tries to outdo the other, working together to weave interesting and
exciting melody and counter-melody lines that lift the songs and the band above
run-of-the-mill indie-wannabe’s to genuine quality and deserving of a decent
following in their own right. As the set progresses the songs start to gain
greater space and depth. The nailed down next-single in waiting is Mould Me a
New One which calls to mind the elastic dexterity of some of the aforementioned
Stone Roses finest moments. Their jewel in the crown is the magnetic appeal of
the lead singer George whose focussed intensity of delivery reminds me of a
youthful Ian Curtis.
This band
is going places, and you need to get on board! Songs of the strength of Down
for the Weekend and set-closer (another sonic-gem) Shine Away are ripe for a
good studio manager to make the most of. Their music is far from
one-dimensional and its inherent grooves and Mod sensibility is a potent mix
that should have a wider appeal.
The future
may well be theirs indeed!
The stage
is set for the main event. The mixture of tunes played between the bands
reminds us of the time when bands had something to say and someone willing to
listen. Here tonight are two bands with plenty to say - the danger is maybe
that the future will belong to the apathetic - I remain eternally hopeful that
such youthful energy and ambition reaps its due reward. The last (whole song)
before the band hit the stage, the timeless driving clatter of Town Called
Malice remind us all that it’s ‘up to us to change…’
The
opening bars of My Generation are thankfully cut short by manager Deabs who
takes the stage to implore Pompey to Play Up for… The Spitfires!!!
The stage
if anything seems even smaller than before. It’s struggling to contain the roar
from the void – this rage against the dying of the light. Almost literally
spitting fire, the Watford four-piece tear into opener Escape Me. Their
intensity and self-belief a clear statement of intent for what is to follow.
The energy
within the band is not confined to mere stage presence, of which lead singer
and main focal point Billy Sullivan has it in spades. It is the force of
delivery; at times bludgeoning at others stiletto sharp, like an artful boxer
there’s jabs and hooks in their arsenal. The fight is tough tonight. Pompey is
old school tough and respect is earned not given, but there is generous
applause after each song. The Spitfires are a Pompey type band, but they know
they have to work to keep this level of newfound respect up – it is no doubt a
fight they have at every gig, in old working class towns and cities up and down
the country.
Their
stage-craft has been honed by recent heavy touring and some prestigious support
slots to such heavy-weights as Paul Weller and The Specials and it shows. The
musicianship is slick, dynamic and tight… very tight. The syncopated rhythms
are spot on, jump-start, shock and awe calls to arms and with the (fairly) recent
and now permanent inclusion of keyboards the songs have greater depth. Latest
single Stand Down is a fine example of this newer, more rounded sound.
Older
singles like Tell Me, Relapse and I’m Holding On are re-invented as a
four-piece. The melodies are clearer, the subtle nuances more apparent and
demand to be heard in a live setting. Whereas The Costellos would benefit from
time in the studio, The Spitfires songs struggle to be confined to vinyl. The
songs bark and bite, the tight confines of the stage and the close-proximity of
the audience are bedfellows in the most pure of dynamic.
That said,
there is deftness of touch, fleetness of foot, shade and light in the mix too.
The song-writing, like the sound has gained greater depth, a maturity which
bodes well for the future. Stand out tracks like When I Call Out (possibly a
future break-through single) and 4AM which has got album closer written all over
it - It’s a big song demanding to be heard, with a memorable chorus and hook
will have listeners reaching for the repeat button when the album comes out
sometime at the back end of Summer.
They
finish with a lively chase through another early single Spark to Start, again
emboldened by the new sound with heavy Hammond chops and slashes and an
enjoyable romp through their one and only cover of The Buzzcocks What Do I Get?
On this
evidence they deserve to get a great deal of success.
The music
scene is awash with manufactured shit and reheated leftovers from music past.
Talent, young talent like The Costellos and The Spitfires should really herald
that the past may well have been theirs but the future, if we just cared to
listen, if we just cared enough… the future will certainly belong to these two
fine bands!
By Jason Brummell
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