Review by Gary Spiller for MPM
At the heart of Bridgwater’s music scene The Cobblestones stands stoically proud on the eastern side of the River Parrett, a waterway that bisects this Somerset market town. It once generated prosperity for this town, but the bustling docks and quaysides now lie quiet with the main focus of commerce upon supporting the nearby Hinkley Point C nuclear power station.
Run by the ever affable, and always beaverishly busy, Graham Hodgson this independent venue has long bucked the mainstream trends maintaining a keen advocacy for grassroots artists. From hosting the likes of Florence Black and South of Salem to annual hosting of Somerset’s Metal to the Masses heats The Cobblestones’ reputation is amongst the best.
Promising brand-new songs and an upgraded stage production The Dead Collective are in the midst of Metamorphosis, their latest tour ahead of the release of their eponymously titled fourth EP. It’s a rather aptly monikered tour given a rebranding last August, removing Oli Brown’s name from the band’s name, reflecting a unified moving forward for the next chapter of music. It’s a sage manoeuvre, in my humble opinion, for the trio that features the insane talents of not just Brown but Sam Wood and Wayne Proctor. Names familiar to many for their endeavours with Wayward Sons and King King, respectively, along with many others.
If one three-piece featuring twin guitarists and a drummer isn’t enough then this evening boasts a second in the fine sleek lines of Glaswegians Anchor Lane. It’s close to four years since our paths have crossed and I’m somewhat ashamed to confess their energy and drive have slipped off my personal radar. However, it’s great to reacquaint oneself with this instantly amiable triumvirate.
Regrouping following the departure of guitarist Lawrence O’Brien in October ’24 AL are rebuilding a new head of steam with the recent release of a couple of new numbers with which they kickstart their set. There’s a moment of light relief as, whilst they ready themselves, 2020’s ‘Fame Shame’ comes blasting out of the PA. Chuckling at this unexpected intro the trio launch into latest single ‘Five Knuckle Shuffle’ with new(ish) axeman Connor Traill hammering down the opening riffs intent on rocking the foundations of this Grade II listed building.
Heavy and raw it’s followed by the rasping anthemic tub-thumper ‘Six Foot, Six Pack, Sigma’. With a pop-punk energetic underpinning and nod towards Green Day the single from August last year is well received with Traill beating his heart in respect of the reception. Alongside the cheeky-chappy frontman Connor Gaffney and the rock-solid percussives of Graeme Newbury it would appear, even at this early stage in the set, that Traill is settling in most comfortably.
Gaffney, ditching his six-stringer, holds his mic aloft ahead of punching out the initial lines of powerhouse ‘Nitroglycerin’; the first of seven tracks from their second album ‘Call This A Reality?’. Its pugilistic explosion is the perfect lead into the punky infusion of ‘Fame Shame’. The only selection from debut long-player ‘Casino’ it rightfully holds its place in the live arena six years following its release. With a doff of cap towards The Subways’ ‘Rock & Roll Queen’ Anchor Lane shift upwards through the gears with a foot to the floor attitude that endears them readily.
The edgy kickout of ‘Stutter’ heralds the second half of the set with Gaffney introducing his cohorts and quipping “It’s his first time in Bridgwater!” in the direction of Traill. The arenaceous buzzsaw outpouring of ‘Bitter’ follows with Gaffney emotionally enquiring “May I get something off my chest?” Very well received ‘Ministry’ experiences a hellbound despatch that ups the ante further.
With a funky undertow that gets right under the skin ‘Call This a Reality?’ leaps about manically in the mode of an overheating feline upon a metallic roofing sheet. ‘Choke’ seeks out willing participants for a Saturday night rumble on Sauchiehall Street prior the freight-training ‘I Don’t Have Another Soul to Pour’ concludes a 40-minute set that has more than capably demonstrated why The Dead Collective were so keen to bring this Scottish outfit out on tour. Oli Brown later notes “We’ve been after these guys to come out on the road with us for quite a while now.”
The latest chapter of Oli Brown’s stellar career under the spotlight of rock first came to my attention just over four years ago with a slot on a Steelhouse Away Day supporting Florence Black at Cardiff’s Tramshed. With a triplet of EP’s – ‘Prelude’, ‘Prologue’, and ‘Epilogue’ – under their collective belt The Dead Collective are an impeccable cohesive unit operating upon a high plane of empathy and understanding unlike anything else out there on stage.
Entering the Cobblestones’ expanded stage to the angst-ridden atmospherics of the self-lacerating rage of Radiohead’s smash debut ‘Creep’ Brown, Proctor, and Wood steady themselves amidst the billowing dry with just flickering strobes piercing the induced darkness. This couldn’t be much further apart from Brown’s initial chapters as a burgeoning bluesman, but he seems entirely content with this polar opposite as unseen beings scamper in the shadows dancing to the tune of a strongly beating heart.
The scene is set and the atmosphere raised to Defcon 1 with Brown’s echoing vocals delivered atop a Cimmerian Fleetwood Mac undercurrent in the set-opening ‘Sinking Ship’. Entrancing in the briefest of moments the healthy Saturday night crowd are under the spell from the very off. The outpouring of the inner soul is cathartic in the extreme. The raucous swampy ‘Heard It All Before’; dirty blues rock cannot be any grimier. This is how that should be with the 60’s essence of Clapton, Green and Mayall howling at the full moon.
A haunting across the arid planes latest single ‘Goliath’ presents a spellbinding concoction with gothic nuances of Black Lakes within the words. Our journey through The Dead Collective’s vertiginous landscape continues the ethereal surge of ‘Father’ ensures an upping of already lofty intensities. Its seismic proggish tones conjure a spectral juggernaut. The demonic presences that inhabit the shadowy environs cannot contain the depths of emotion herein. Gritty and snarling ‘Everything You Want’ presents resounding forces with waves that crash down with unsuspecting strength.
The two guitars of Brown and Wood entwine prior to the baroscopic climatic detonation in debut single ‘Haunted’. The understanding across the board is simply sublime, rock verging upon a classical realm. A dragon in sheep’s clothing the achingly beautiful ‘Home Sweet Home’ is the singular selection from ‘Epilogue’. The dilemma nowadays is not how can we ‘fill’ a set rather the decision upon what to omit; such are the positive progressions of time.
‘Your Love’ multiplies that aching beauty even further. Alone with just his battered Stratocaster Brown laments “Your love is a noose around my neck” ahead of the levee breaking. Captivating effortlessly ‘Estranged’ and the ghosting tsunami of ‘Falling’ bracket ‘Cracks’ the first release from the forthcoming EP as the spotlight shifts focus upon the new material.
The yet to be untethered tracks feel right at home; hewn skilfully from the rich vein that The Dead Collective have embraced since inception their metamorphosis has matured into an exciting new stage. “Out with the old, in with the Dead” as they say around abouts.
Photography by Kelly Spiller for MPM
