A
myriad of little silver lights flicker on behind Chris Helme, adding stellar
wonder to the first big slowie of the evening and providing the appropriate
twinkle to such a time of universal joy, albeit thoroughly soaked by flying
beer.
"This is for all you UN-believers out there," says Helme, sliding
mercurially into the song that could yank Orion's belt and the Seven Sisters
from the very skies in a three-minute seduction of immaculate, melodic
splendour. "Love Me and Leave Me," he begs, as worshippers droolingly
concur with the first request and resolutely refuse the second. Nope, no one's
leaving till they've got every last drop out of the Seahorses - unless the band
beat them out the door.
A few minutes on and the stars have lost their gentle sparkle. A missile has
narrowly missed the frontman's shoulder and he is not, to say the least, very
amused. The lyrics to sweet-as-honey 1999 suddenly become "YOU'RE DEAD
MATE," as he looks daggers at the offender and drops the next few lines to
continue the hard stares. Then he reminds the Scottish revellers of "the
Oasis incident" and affirms the Horses' solidarity with Liam and co ('arr
Noel has gifted the band the odd chord or two, remember). Another missile and
they'll be leaving without much love lost at all.
Helme's a little bit polite to let it ruin the evening, though: "Sorry to
create a bad vibe and all that, ladeeeez and gentlemen." A bad vibe,
nonetheless, has reared its ugly head, and the text-book run-through takes an
aggressive edge. Which is no bad thing, really. For all their bouncy feel-good
scream-a-long rock, John Squire's Seahorses could sometimes do with a bit of
extra edge. Still, you don't see anyone complaining - even those stubbornly
displaying their Stone Roses shirts.
The critics are at one with their "ploddingly average" verdict, but
the fans are convinced that this is surely the Second Coming (Stone Roses
reference unintentional). On the strength of this super-fast, French-polished
blast through the Do It Yourself album, it's not quite that. But there is power
and glory here that kicks the whining opposition to kingdom come. They grind,
they bounce, they really do rock - and when those melodies soar they create
enough thermals to cast Richard Branson skywards on a rare successful sojourn.
It truly makes your ticker thump.
They launch in with their best jump-up-and-down numbers, Round the Universe and
Suicide Drive, then rush through towards the anthem that is Love is the Law with
finely-honed perfection. Helme jigs casually, Squire slithers in and out,
whacking in the chords, squealing out the neatly-patterned histrionics and
keeping a beady, fatherly eye on the rest of the crew from beneath the floppy
locks.
Is it enough? Most definitely - but this is a remarkable band who should be
giving much more than enough. It's no longer the thing for frontmen to
"work" their crowds and Helme really doesn't bother, save for the odd
"Thanks a lot" and a "You better sing it" threat. The day of
the rock god is long gone, but you wouldn't have seen the likes of Freddie
Mercury throwing a wobbly and threatening exit stage left. And that's not just
because he played only huge stadiums. Here, the "How you doin'
Glasgow?" cliché and a bit of friendly banter would probably have done the
trick.
It's the penultimate night of the tour and there are several times when
auto-pilot seems to kick in. Can it be possible that such a young band are fed
up already? Not if their latest single is anything to go by - and yes, Helme
really does hit that last high note. Well, the critics can rub their hands with
glee. The rest of us aren't un-believers quite yet.
Melanie Henderson
This
Review by Melanie
Henderson was Originally on
at
http://www.vibes.co.uk/details.cfm?type=6&rev_id=82
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