“We take the rain wherever we go.” Hope of the states warned, military jackets sagging in the beastly heat of the new tent. It hadn’t rained since Friday morning, so I was sceptical; but it was hard not to believe him because Sam Herlihy is about the most humble front man I have ever seen. A Chris Martin in the making. He self-depreciates, shuffles around and asks the hecklers to speak up. At times, he sips from his can of Stella.
The ancient, I’m-still-hip-with-the-kids-look-at-my dread-locks-and-my-post-modern-motorheadesque-t-shirt compere fellow kept hammering home the fact that it was their first festival, and in some ways it showed. In other, more important ways, it didn’t. They were visibly nervous, grinning at their own stupid luck but they also created a colossal noise with that rare quality...big AND clever.
Parallels have been drawn with Godspeed You Black Emperor! But I’m not sure about that. Hope Of The States have the man power to raise huge sonic waves of pandemonium, but it’s on a shorter chain. Poppy melodies surface from the squealing guitars and violins...the lyrics are clear cut and ringing, often quite thought provoking - on ‘Enemies’ Friends’: "Keep your friends close / because your enemies won’t matter in the end." Its pretty clear that while Hope Of The States have one eye firmly on making intelligent, sprawling music, the other is taking a sly peek at the charts. This can only be a good thing. A booming juggernaut like that would lay bloody waste to the dozens of gel-haired pretty boys clogging up mainstream music like so much cholesterol.
Their set is loud. Octaves are scraped raw as eerie brothers-Grimm visuals play out fractured, snow laden dreamscapes on the canvas ceiling. A lot of it is introduced with a shy mumble, inaudible. The biggest cheer goes up for the monumental recent single ‘Black Dollar Bills.’ Like the rest, it’s massive.
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On record Hope Of The States sound tidier, cleaner. It’s an obvious thing to say, I guess, but when a band plays live the adrenaline can spin off in two different ways. I’d find this out later when I braved the heat to see the Libertines. The energy can make the din come together and the songs take on fresh edges or it can all simply go wrong. Hope Of The States had the odds against them – Festival nerves and stacks of electronic trickery just waiting to seize up...but it didn’t happen. The whole band was grinning constantly; nobody fell to pieces under the pressure. Maybe there was no pressure. It’s a lucky man who finds his calling in life – these guys seem to know that.
The set ends. Thank you’s are said and drumsticks sail through the muggy air. I really enjoyed Hope Of The States. They’re another link in the chain that is one day going to liberate us from reality TV pop stars and the MC5 a-likes.
And finally, as I leave the New Tent, after 30+ hours of atomic sunlight, the sky darkens and it starts to rain.
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