For me, reunion gigs have always been something of a grey area in the otherwise moderately psychedelic world of rock 'n roll. They generally involve and handful of people who have at some point been in the band (although not necessarily at the same time) getting together and massacring their reputation for the sake of a few quid and a cut of the royalties from the accompanying live album. Very few bands' reputations ever survive the process and its generally considered both a desperate act and a tragic mistake by everyone except the accountants.
Perhaps the most spectacular case in point was the ill advised Velvet Underground reunion in 1993 which saw Lou Reed wilfully butchering much of his greatest and best loved material whilst the other three members stood around wondering how they became so financially desperate as to have to endure this embarrassment and Reed's increasingly demanding ego every night for six months.
In the last few years, though, the reunion has become more commonplace and it seems just about every band that ever set foot on a stage is now back in action, albeit with more sensible haircuts. The emergence of online sales and DVD and "Instant Live !" trickery has turned the reunion into more of a second career phase than a comeback and the opportunities to make some money are understandably tempting to those who's back catalogue isn't a Hollywood staple or Radio 2 favourite. So, it comes as no surprise that POP WILL EAT ITSELF, like their fellow Stourbridge scenesters Ned's Atomic Dustbin and The Wonderstuff, are back.
For a band so who were largely ignored or written off as a novelty in their own time, its nice to see a packed Shepherd's Bush Empire turn out to justify their existence (twice in fact, they'd also sold the place out on the 24th). The place erupts from the moment the intro tape (the "Cure For Sanity" 'music' speech) kicks in and I'm immediately reminded how bland music and its audiences have become today as five blokes on stage and a thousand paying punters proceed to go apeshit for an hour and a half in a variety of highly personalised styles. No overcoats, loose fit jeans and moptop uniforms here - this is something far more individual and expressive. I'd go so far as to say unique.
We're treated to all the favourites, "Can U Dig It ?", "Wise Up ! Sucker", "Dance Of The Mad", "Bulletproof!", "Ich Bin Ein Auslander" and so on and the band seem to be revelling in not having a product to promote and just playing their favourite tunes, which, by chance, also appear to be most of the audience's favourites too. A few surprise choices are also pulled out, including the mythical "Not Now James, We're Busy", "88 Seconds", "Wake Up, time To Die" and the classic "Beaver Patrol". With every song the crowd become increasingly enthusiastic and the band themselves seem to find a certain justification.
As well as their apparent enthusiasm, I'm struck by PWEI's on-stage energy. They never were the best dancers, but from start to finish all five guys are locked into a groove and seem refreshed by their eight years off. I'm also shocked by how well the music itself stands up. I said earlier that the Poppies were largely ignored or written off in their day, and i think theres a fair case for their being so way out or way ahead of their time that people just didn't know what to make of it because there was no template (and most music fans like to know what they're listening to before they listen to it). Were they rock, house or rap ? Could you like one if you were usually down with the other ? Then they went industrial. All very confusing for the conscientious trend follower, but its easy to forget that, whilst most of the late '80's English "alternative" scene was wallowing in a wall of retrospective guitar melancholy, PWEI had given their drummer a mic, got the samplers and 303s out and were rapping about everything from Marvel comics to alcoholism and pussy hunting. Oh, and they also managed to invent the whole "indie / dance" crossover thing too, opening up a seam that everyone from EMF to The Prodigy and the Chemical Brothers would mine throughout the 90's. I'm not here to make you like PWEI, but it'd never really hit me until tonight just how far ahead of the game they were.
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Erm, yeah..... getting back to the set........... For most fans, I expect, the real treat was saved for the first encore of the evening when the band stripped back to their original four piece, electronics free line-up for a quick swing through "Sweet, Sweet Pie", "Oh, Grebo, I Think I Love You", "Orgyone Simulator" and "Psychopath In My Soup", songs they've not played live for about 17 years by my reckoning. Again, the freedom of not having a new product to plug reaps dividends for all concerned. Fittingly, the final treat is the track which bridges the gap between their two incarnations and saw life as both a four piece workout and a beatbox and scratch-fest, "There Is No Love Between us Anymore". Perhaps the perfect ending to a perfectly selected set - i don't think I've ever heard such a well chosen, fan pleasing live selection - and one that sends the place into one last bout of hysterics.
I have to confess, I was embarrassingly nervous before this show, the thought of seeing one of my most influential bands of all time make a public spectacle of themselves being an unpleasant one, but I have to say I was more impressed than I ever imagined I would be. Quality (and thoughtful) selection of tunes, no attempts to force us to listen to some new shit or lame new album fillers now were here and can't escape, and a band that seemed to be enjoying being on-stage far more than most of what passes for "performers" these days. On the evidence of this, maybe every band should take a nice long break and come back when they might actually be fun again. Wouldn't Oasis be far more welcome today if they'd fucked off in 1997 and skipped the last 8 years of shit they've subjected us to ?
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