It’s the hardest trick in the book to pull off. Anyone can wow an audience – or at the very least maintain some dignity – by turning up the amps and making a racket. But only someone with real skill and charisma can play quietly and still draw in the whole audience.
To Bear Sir, or singer-songwriter Russell from South Wales to his mum, manages to do just that. Opening up tonight’s four strong selection of acts curated by NME/Guardian writer Mark Beaumont he sits on a chair at the front of the stage armed only with a Fender Telecaster and a disarmingly honest manner. The songs are raw in presentation and painful in subject matter, drawing comparisons with Neil Young although to this reviewer’s ears, his vocal delivery is smoother and much more palatable. An intensely personal and intimate experience, and rightly greeted with the rapt attentiveness it deserves.
London two piece Barricades, who waste little time getting on stage, are a bit of a culture shock after such a delicate start, but they warm to their task quickly and are soon earning enthusiastic cheers for hard edged but soulful rock sound. They’ve clearly got a lot to say too, dedicating ‘England Eyes’ to “the Brexiteers” and adapting a famous anti-Nazi poem (“First they came for the socialists…”) into a song with a touch of the Manic Street Preachers at their best. Clearly ones to watch.
Tonight’s third act SuperGlu (pictured) provide another stark contrast, definitely lighter in mood than the first two but big on euphoric energy. They definitely have an unashamedly pop edge to their sound, described as bubblegum punk in their publicity material. Nearly everything in their set seems to boast a chorus with oodles of punch, the kind you’ll find yourself singing along to the next morning with or without a hangover. There’s a big portion of the Pixies’ anthemic but angular stylings here, but the plentiful moments when the two guitarists and bassist all join their vocal power together, such as the highly recommended single ‘Weekend’, they ascend to a class of their own.
After that, it’s fair to say Novellas from Portsmouth struggle to maintain the same levels of excitement. They are certainly the slickest band on the bill, but their sound evokes the power pop of stadium pop of 80s bands like Simple Minds and Billy Idol. A bit of the latter’s sense of irony and self-parody wouldn’t go amiss, particularly after the light-hearted unpretentiousness of SuperGlu. In short, it’s hard to love a band that loves itself as much as this, despite more than a modicum of talent and potential. Perhaps a bit less time spent coiffing those Flock Of Seagulls hairdos and a few more hours digging in the crates of their local record shop in search of some more interesting influences might be a way forward.
