“If
folks think they’re coming to see some old fellas in their 70s prattle and
stumble on stage, they know nothing about us”.
The
Sonics made it visibly and verbally clear during their gig at The Brudenell
Social Club last week that they have no desire to slow down or mellow with age,
evincing that they are still very much the frightfully savage, surly garage
rock stalwarts of their mid-1960s prime.
The
general feel prior to tonight’s show was a culmination of mixed expectations;
ones which deviated from what was essentially ageist dubiety – can a group in
their 70s really sound as good as they did in their heyday?- and a disbelief
that a band of this ilk and eminence would be in the unexceptional surroundings
of Hyde Park, Leeds. But that is, arguably, what makes The Brudenell Social
Club so celebrated and so special: especially to us locals, it’s not every day
that the Sonics play on your doorstep.
The
Sonics’ indelible influence is palpable simply just by looking around you: the
band’s wide-ranging appeal is evidenced in the diversity of tonight’s crowd;
mods alongside rockers, balding record collectors, men and women -both young
and old. The pleasing irony here is that this show is, quite rightly, a
sell-out - but for the very thing that cost the quintet commercial success in
their heyday. There’s a belief that suggests they inadvertently invented punk
rock; while there were plenty of bands in mid-1960s America knocking out
three-cord songs about girls and cars, the Sonics’ musical ineptitude and
obsession with distortion meant that their celebrity remained relatively local.
Were it
not for the noise they make, you’d have a hard time equating the sprightly
gentlemen on stage with the glowering youths you see on the covers of their old
record sleeves. Time has not sanded down their rough edges, and they sound
fiercer than you might expect.
The set
comprises of a pleasing mixture of all the revered ‘hits’ as well as new
material from their upcoming album, and it’s hard to differentiate between
them: songs like ‘Number 666’ and ‘Be a Woman’ sound similarly visceral and
immediately classic, both of which are met with an appreciative response and
approval from the audience.
Larry
Parypa’s guitar work sounds particularly menacing on the concluding,
bloodcurdling rendition of ‘Psycho’, and lead singer Gerry Roslie’s
raw-throated vocals still carry an unmistakable menace vital to the Sonics’
celebrated sound, not more so than on the pounding take of Richard Berry’s
‘Have Love Will Travel’; each scream sounding truly, wonderfully disturbing.
It’s
worth noting that this is not the original Sonics line-up: Bob Bennett is
replaced by the equally proficient Dusty Watson on drums and original bassist
Andy Parypa replaced by Freddie Dennis, both of whom do a credible job at
maintaining the Sonics’ quintessential raucous sound.
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