Blimey. For young lads, THEE UNSTRUNG are a confident bunch – lead singer Steve Holbrook in particular exhibits a cocky insouciance that keeps just the right side of annoying. Fortunately, they have the tunes to back up the swagger. Looking like flower power mods and sounding like the Buzzcocks multiplied by a thousand obscure sixties freakbeat combos, Thee Unstrung could well fill a position rapidly being made vacant by a certain Mr Doherty. Standout tracks tonight include ‘Contrary Mary’ and ‘Psycho’, both, I think, odes to scary ladies they have met. On tonight’s evidence, I can only hope that Thee Unstrung are plagued by unstable gals for many years to come.
I’d always been a bit sniffy about THE RAVEONETTES - the phrase ‘contrived, anaemic style mag bollocks’ springs to mind . I am happy to confess, however, that tonight my preconceptions have been blown out of my eardrums. Simply put, The Raveonettes were stunning.
Theirs is a thrillingly loud, full sound, totally in thrall to rock’s illustrious heritage, yet very much of the moment. Sune Rose Wagner and Sharon Foo look stunning too – wired glam rock king and pre-scag Nicoesque goddess respectively. Belying their live reputation, the Danish duo and their three-man backing band are positively bursting with enthusiasm this evening and it is, quite frankly, infectious. We are treated to both a good portion of their latest offering Pretty in Black and beefed-up treats from 2003’s underwhelming Jesus and Mary Chain-inspired Chain Gang of Love.
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Wagner and Foo could never be accused of not wearing their influences on their sleeves. In a moment of exquisite postmodernity, they use a sample of the Angels’ original backing vocals during their cover of ‘My Boyfriend’s Back’. Elsewhere, Ronnie Spector makes an appearance (sampled again alas, though recorded with the Raveonettes this time) on Pretty in Black’s ‘Ode to LA’. The absolute high point of the evening for me was a gorgeous, swelling, ecstatic run through of Chain Gang of Love’s ‘Great Love Sound’. As it built and built, I swear Wagner and Foo were vibrating with Dionysian energy, something you don’t usually see on a Wednesday evening, unless you happen to live next door to Bobby Gillespie.
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