Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
It’s vile out there, a truly meteorologically ‘meh’ is being whipped right up as Storm Bert wreaks havoc sweeping across the UK. The second named storm of the season has brought a sudden cessation to the cold snap but brought with it some particularly unpleasant winds and, at times, monsoon-like rain.
With the startling news breaking less than a fortnight ago informing that the Marble Factory venue, just across the city centre, is facing a most uncertain future and potentially closure in July next year it’s great to see a near sold-out crowd packed into SWX.
The demand for live music is well and truly alive and kicking but lest we forget that it’s currently extremely tough times for venues. Just the previous day we bore witness to the lightning bolt news of Cardiff venue The Moon calling time.
SWX opens its doors at six to facilitate an early finish presumably in order to switch over to the alter-ego of a nightclub. A business model gaining, across the board, increased traction of late in the grass-roots scene right through to venues, like this one, of 1,000 to 1,500 capacity. The necessity of survival in the 21st century nighttime entertainment trade.
Whilst this is probably far from the conscious thoughts of the majority of this evening’s concertgoers it’s, no doubt, not lost on any of the folks on-stage. Oozing genuine sincerity from every pore Baz Mills, hyper frontman of tonight’s headliners, summarises it best with repeated messages of gratitude throughout. Ending a triumphant rip-roaring set saluting the packed ranks “Bristol that was fucking amazing! Thankyou for supporting us for the last fifteen years!” No further comment required, enough said.
A swift 15 minutes after doors opening, the fans are still filing in, opening act Cam Cole steps forth with zero fanfare in readiness to send all gathered inside SWX down the thaumaturgical bunny warren with a completely untethered half hour of off the cuff feral bluesy delta rocking.
What transpires across the course of the seven tracks, so vivaciously despatched by Cole and his high-energy sidekick, is a genuinely surprising and enthralling experience. Imagine, if you will, The Levellers immersed in Alice In Wonderland within a brackish bayou setting and you’re on course for the realms inhabited by Cole.
Opening up with the swampy delta blues of ‘New Age Blues’, the footstomping holler that opens Cole’s 2019 ‘I See’ debut album, the top-hatted trovatore repeatedly assures “It’s alright.” Powering into the scorching arid rootsy charms of ‘Mama’ we take a further trek into ‘I See’. SWX is not only rapidly filling up but more than a good few, myself included, are falling under the magical incantations.
Even though they’re tucked in a corner, stage right, Cole and his ever-jigging tambourine wielding vocalist partner in crime, somehow manage to fill their surroundings. With a Seasick Steve sort of vibe occurring Cole’s lively character batters the living heck out of the floor percussive elements with an unearthly intent.
There’s a healthy cross-reference with Bristol’s The Dusk Brothers occurring too with a home-made feel to some of the instruments wielded. Some appearing very much like they’ve evolved from vintage furniture. All the while further enhancing the anarchic onstage presence; at any given moment I sense Cole could eschew the constraints of the stage and jump headlong into the crowd to indulge in some mischief.
A quartet of visitations to Glastonbury-based Cole’s most recent offering ‘Unleash’ are, pardon the pun, unleashed. The earthy arenaceous ‘I Just Don’t Seek To Please’ rolls headlong into ‘Truth Be Told’. Thoughtfully eyeing the scene Cole strokes his beard, taking off his top-hat he salutes the crowd, like an impish Willy Wonka, with his battered head attire.
Inducing some energetic pogoing in the crowd ‘Freedom’ and ‘Slave To The Breaks’ hit the vortex with hurricane forces ahead of the wild and raucous distortions of set closer ‘Fuck You Motherfucker’. From London to Berlin via Seattle and Sydney Cole has, over the last few years, ‘busked’ his way around the world. Set by set he’s emerging as a charismatic talent with his grungy blues that rocks right outta the deltalands.
From the swamplands to the valleys, in the space of just ten minutes, next up Merthyr Tydfil triumvirate Florence Black gather their senses within the tumult of a loud, roaring intro. It’s typically understated with minimal fuss but a metalliferous affidavit of what is about to be, in no uncertain terms, consummated with hellfire and brimstone. Sheer and brutal mirroring their hometown’s industrial past drills ring clear at the coalface as furnaces burn hotter than the sun.
This year’s release ‘Bed Of Nails’ along with debut album ‘Weight Of The World’ has undeniably cemented the early promise of the Welsh lads’ three EPs. Accelerator to the floor? You betcha! Forceful and unrelenting? Without doubt. Dismiss them as one-trick ponies at your peril, however. There’s much variance within, with light entwining about the shade. Greater things beckon.
There’s a sizeable South Wales contingent in the already full SWX judging by the amount of Welsh and band paraphernalia alike. An expeditious “Let’s go!” from frontman Tristan Thomas and we’re hitting the outer lane with the furious pace of the rattlesnake venom of ‘Start Again’. The opening track of ‘Bed Of Nails’ it additionally serves so well as a scorching set-opener.
The focus switches to their debut album with ‘The Deep End’ hollering, untamed and unfettered, from their Welsh homelands. As dark as coal and as strong as steel its bellowing thunder reverberates. Thomas continues to rile up the crowd with “Scream for me Bristol”, one of several across their rapidly despatched eight tracks, whilst alongside bassist Jordan ‘Foz’ Evans leads SWX punching the air with unrestrained glee. Behind the frontline powerhouse drummer Perry ‘Perk’ Davies stands upright, at track end, to salute the all-around effort.
It’s natural, as a performer, to focus upon your recent release and Florence Black do precisely this with the bad ass rocker ‘Look Up’ the first of four consecutive lifts from ‘Bed Of Nails’. Uncompromising yet possessing a melodic hook the size of a battleship anchor serious posterior is forcibly kicked.
Gently steaming, it’s bloody roasting stood to the side of the stage, the Welsh trio mellow the mood with the utterly epic ‘Warning Sign’ that ploughs, for me, a parallel furrow to that of the set-closing ‘Sun & Moon’. Following on there’s plenty of meat on the bones of raging tempest ‘Bed of Nails’. Vegetarians look away this is a full-on carnivorous output.
With a Motörhead-esque energy ‘Rockin’ Ring’ further escalates before phasers shift to vaporize for the eruption of ‘Zulu’. Pounding basslines, hard-hitting percussives and searing guitar this track possesses it all, SWX wholeheartedly concur. With its atmospheric intro the Planet Rock and Classic Rock approved ‘Sun & Moon’ raises goosebumps whilst blowing the roof in the process. Do set ending tracks get any better? Massive Wagons have a massive job ahead of them for sure.
Celebrating their third consecutive entry into the top ten of the UK Official Album charts with the release, last week, of ‘Earth To Grace’ it’s an infallible conclusion that Lancaster’s Massive Wagons have graduated from their rock n’ roll apprenticeship with flying first class honours. Should any further evidence be needed then take a look at the upgrade in venues that the nine venues that comprise this tour compared to previous outings.
Following on from their first ever headline show at Nottingham’s renown Rock City tonight they’ve packed in well over a thousand punters inside, a big step up from their last gig in the city over at The Fleece. The atmosphere elevates minute upon minute as Bristol’s SWX expects. The stage and house lights darken but nothing comes forth. Gremlins have cruelly struck taking a mean swipe. Some frantic activity about a guitar pedal board and the PA crackles, mercifully, into life. This is live music after all.
Cheap Trick’s ‘Hello There’ offers a convivial greeting. “Hello there ladies and gents, Are you ready to rock?” the track enquires. Bristol offers an emphatic affirmative in reply. Bursting onto the stage The Wagons tear right into lead single ‘Missing on TV’. Ever the livewire, vocalist Baz Mills roars “Alright Bristol, how the fuck are you?” With baseball cap and long shorts Mills is every inch the mirror of Suicidal Tendencies’ Mike Muir.
Eschewing just their first two of their seven studio albums The Wagons set about rollicking through 85 minutes or so of pure hard rocking mayhem. It’s a well-considered set with handpicked gems like the genuinely anthemic two-fingered salute of ‘Ratio’ and the rapturous ‘Tokyo’ applying a Lancashire wrecking ball. “This is for the ol’ school” Mills heralds the latter. “How on earth is it over eight years since these tracks were originally released?” I ponder.
Apt hand signals to the line “News just in you’re a bit of wanker” amuse, as ever, in the riotous ‘A.S.S.H.O.L.E.’ Its punky attitude ensnares with the ever-smiling Stevie Holl raising his black and white Gibson SG to applaud the welcome received. Emphatic SWX singing during ‘Under No Illusion’ provides solid evidence that the sole selection from 2018’s ‘Full Nelson’ is a popular one.
The sound of revving motorcycles rattles the PA as Mills, wearing a horned mask, crouches on a raised platform bathed in a deathly red as the tornadic riffing and beats of ‘Sleep Forever’ batters the metaphorical door right off its hinges. Holl and fellow guitarist Adam Thistlethwaite trade lead licks with the former retreating to rock out with the ever-stoical bassist Adam ‘Bowser’ Bouskill.
Album opener follows album opener with the fire breathing ‘Fuck the Haters’ raising an honest middle finger. Absorbed SWX is swept along most willingly. “You still there? Can’t fucking here yas!” riles Mills before the virtues of footlong subs with extra cheese are extoled in the cheerful strains of ‘Please Stay Calm’ as it weaves in and out of the rush-hour traffic. Thirty-free in a thirty right one and all?
‘Fun While It Lasted’ a fun-filled snorter rammed full of surging kinetics partners up with the emotives of ‘Night Skies’. The latter’s lyrics highly apt following Mills shoutout to all those fine folks on the AndysManClub stall. It’s fantastic to see the burgeoning partnership between band and this men’s suicide prevention charity. Remember gents it’s okay to talk.
2021 single only release ‘Changes’ is given a relatively rare outing throwing an unexpected swerve ball, the twin lead between Thistlethwaite and Holl enthrals. The road-rolling reggae infused ‘Generation Prime’ with its stabbing ska riffs punctuating is a clear crowd favourite. A sea smiling faces greets the band throughout the venue as the track outros with a most apt snippet of Bob Marley’s ‘No Woman, No Cry’.
‘The Good Die Young’ slots right into the set. It’s trademark Wagons whilst demonstrating their maturing output. Catchy as heck it’s an instant earworm. An earthquaking, ramped up version of ‘Banging In Your Stereo’ sprints along with SWX bouncing manically from front to back.
As the main body of the set nears its conclusion so ‘silly season’ erupts. Thistlethwaite chisels out the Eastenders theme tune with the crowd ‘singing’ along. “He’s been practicing that all week” quips Mills. He parts the crowd before jumping into its midst, along with the band’s tour manager, for a particularly barnstorming ‘In It Together’.
Seventy minutes after kicking off the party Massive Wagons, a 21st century Quo, take a well-deserved breather before regrouping for the encore. Launching into the balls out rocker ‘Free and Easy’ with the vibrancy of AC/DC and Slade The Wagons are definitely thirsty for further action.
Echoing the antics of Kissin’ Dynamite, whom they recently toured with in Germany, Mills takes to an inflatable dinghy to ‘surf’ the crowd to deliver a free t-shirt prior to a rumbustious ‘Ratio’. For a moment Buddy is indeed alive, and Elvis remains King. A sweltering ‘House of Noise’ provides a blistering finale with surfers going over the barrier as a mosh pit breaks out. As the quintet take a deserved bow the mayhem continues with some goofing about to the disco smash of ‘Y.M.C.A.’
A couple of years ago it appeared that the chasing pack were breathing down the Wagons’ necks, but tonight’s performance has proven that the gap is widening with there being no sign that this Lancaster five-piece wish to relinquish grasp upon their position right at the forefront of British rock.
Photography by Kelly Spiller for MPM
