Less Than Jake, Bouncing Souls – UK Winter Circus 2026 (review)

Less Than Jake are one of the ‘bucket list’ bands I promised myself I would go and see if I ever had the chance. It took long enough, but the stars finally aligned and I snagged tickets for the opening night of their 2026 UK trek at Bristol Prospect Building, one of the newest venues in a city awash with venues. It’s getting increasingly common, especially with US bands, to tour as part of stacked line-ups. In the age of spiralling costs, it’s probably the only sure-fire way to get some bums on seats. The UK Winter Circus is a perfect example, and beneath LTJ in the headline slot we have The Bouncing Souls, The Aquabats, and Bar Stool Preachers, four bands that despite representing different sub-genres complement each other perfectly.

Brighton punks-with-a-conscience Bar Stool Preachers kicked things off, and did so superbly albeit with a heavily truncated set (the downside of playing first on a 4-band bill with a strict curfew). Since 2016 they have steadily built up an impressive catalogue, and though in the modern age it’s difficult to gauge how popular they are their last album (Above the Static) made a small dent in the charts and the track Choose My Friends has surpassed 1.5 million streams. That must have earned them at least a quid. With all the infectious energy and enthusiasm of Massive Wagons or peak Wildhearts, and you can’t help but develop a soft spot for the Bar Stool Preachers. They do things the right way, seem like a solid bunch of guys, and have some good tunes in the bank with the biggest cheer of the night (to that point) reserved for their namesake anthem.

The Aquabats have always been an enigma to me. They’ve popped up on a few bills I have seen over the years, and though I appreciate their self-deprecating shtick I just don’t get the superhero alter ego thing. I will forever be mentally scarred by the image of a drunk mostly naked Aquadet squirming around on a toilet floor. Apparently, he hadn’t accounted for his superhero costume not having a zip in the front. He had to take the whole shebang off to go pee pee, and then fell over and couldn’t get up. I bet he was glad of the goggles. I’d love to tell you more about their set, but the truth is I swerved most of it in favour of the bar. But I will say they were much better than I previously gave them credit for, even accounting for the wholly unreasonable amount of inflatable sharks (they might have been dolphins).

I am a massive Bouncing Souls fan, and have been since I first heard Gone in around 2004. I have navigated a lot since then, and BS have been with me every step of the way so they are as big a draw for me as LTJ. They are one of those bands who I just connect with, and I can’t even explain why. As with most cult bands, you find that BS fans are real fans. There may not be many of them, but they sing every line in every song and I haven’t seen a pit go off like that since, well, ever. They played a mammoth 17-song set, unusual for a support band, heavily weighted toward their older material and kicking off with Manthem from 2001’s How I Spent my Summer Vacation album. The Gold Song, Kate is Great, Lean on Sheena, and That Something Special followed before Greg Attonito even paused for breath. The set was missing a few of my personal faves (Apartment 5F, Serenity, So Jersey, Ghosts on the Boardwalk, Coin Toss Girl) but you can’t have everything. Rumour has it a new album is imminent, their first new music since 2023, and it was (probably) represented here with a new song, the name of which eluded me. After hitting a peak with Hopeless Romantic and True Believers, two stone cold classics, the last song was Gone, of course it was. And then they were. BS, we love you. Headline tour, please. And we will sing along forever. Oi!

All this, three bands, three hours, and thirty-odd songs, was to prepare us for the ska skate pop punk royalty that is Less Than Jake. I must admit I swooned a little bit upon seeing Roger Lima in the flesh. What a ledge. The high-octane set kicked off with a couple of cuts from 1998’s Hello Rockview (Nervous in the Alley and History of a Boring Town) before being brought (mostly) up to date with High Cost of Low Living, a standout track from their most recent full album Silver Linings. The classics kept on coming; All my Friends are Metalheads, Johnny Quest Thinks we’re Sellouts, Walking Pipebomb, as the night moved toward a crescendo. The set mined so many old standards that they seemed almost apologetic when they played a new(er) song. The one they chose, though, Sunny Side Up from the Uncharted EP, is an absolute banger. Special mention should go to to Buddy Goldfinger. When he put his trombone down, which was often, he would just frolic and pogo about fulfilling a kind of Bez from the Happy Mondays role, minus the maracas. Wales got a shout out, which was unusual considering the gig was in England, but it made more sense when Chris DeMakes told the story of how, on their first visit to the UK, they strode out in Cardiff and said “Hello, England!”

Some of the stage banter was hilarious. Lima and DeMakes should start a comedy podcast together (“It’s good to see so many people here! In America we couldn’t sell out a phone booth”). The set was closed out with The Brightest Bulb has Burned Out, Look What Happened, and Gainsville Rock City. The band, collectively and as individuals were bang on point. What a fantastic gig this was.

The tour continues.

Bruce Blogs #4: Why I won’t be buying Tracks II

When Bruce Springsteen released the first Tracks in late 1998, it was just what fans had been waiting for. A four-disc boxed set consisting of 66 b-sides, outtakes, demos, and unreleased songs charting an alternative map of his career from 1972 up to 1995. If memory serves, I think it cost just under £40. According to the Bank of England’s inflation calculator, this would be roughly £75 today. Since then, those archives have been further raided for various other projects, such as the bonus disc of rarities accompanying the Essential Bruce Springsteen in 2003 and The Promise double album in 2010. All this makes me believe that anything worthwhile would have been released by now.

Before I go any further, I should probably reiterate what a huge Springsteen fan I am, and have been for almost four decades. I have bought literally every official release, some unofficial releases, been to see him all over the world, most recently in Birmingham and Cardiff, and even made a pilgrimage to Asbury Park, New Jersey in 1999. His music has provided the soundtrack to my life. For me he peaked with Born to Run and Darkness on the Edge of Town, but for the most part his recorded output has been of a consistently high standard. He has made a few mis-steps, though. Springsteen himself has alluded to making several albums in the nineties that were so bad he could barely listen to them. The Human Touch and Lucky Town albums, two of the few officially released during that decade, are generally considered to be among his less adored, shall we say. Nothing that drew as much ire as the Great Ticketmaster Fiasco of 2022 when ‘dynamic pricing’ saw tickets being sold for thousands of dollars and loyal fans being ripped off left, right, and centre. Of course, The Boss denied all knowledge. It wasn’t as if he needed the money, having sold his entire catalogue to Sony the year before for a reported half a billion dollars.

Which brings me to my issue with Tracks II: The Lost Albums, released this week. And no, it’s nothing to do with his recent poliItical posturing, it’s the sheer cost of the thing. The 83 tracks come spread over either seven CDs for £229.99 or nine vinyl discs retailing at £279.99. That’s a decent chunk or change. It means each CD is being sold at £32.85, and each album at £31.11. Can you imagine the public outcry if Springsteen, or anyone else, tried charging those prices for standard commercial releases? According to Google’s handy AI overview, in 2023 the average cost of a CD in the UK was £10.21 and a vinyl album £26.01. And when dealing with boxed sets, this average price is often driven down because you aren’t just buying a single disc, but multiple units. What makes Bruce, or his record label (Columbia, now owned by Sony), think these songs, which haven’t been deemed good enough for release until now, are worth so much more? I’m sceptical. And I know he might not be personally responsible for the pricing, but I refuse to believe he has no say whatsoever.

I’m not buying it. Neither figuratively or literally. This whole thing stinks. I could stomach paying over the odds for concert tickets, and even being asked to shell out for album after album of patchy material. But this is a bridge too far. Yes, there is the option of buying a condensed single CD or double vinyl version (Lost and Found: Selections from the Lost Albums) for completistst and fans that don’t (or can’t) part with that amount of money, mirroring the 18 Tracks collection of 1999. But even that is overpriced, comparatively speaking (£12.99 for the CD and £37.99 for a double vinyl) and 18 Tracks came with three tracks not included on the boxed set. That in itself was construed by many as a cynical move as in the days before streaming and selective downloading, it was purely designed to make fans fork out for a whole album’s worth of material when all they really wanted were the three ‘new’ tracks. The thing I’m struggling most to reconcile here is the fact that the working class hero, man of the people image Springsteen has spent a career nurturing, is in danger of crumbling to dust. If it ever really existed. He has already announced plans for a Tracks III – something else I probably won’t be buying – and let’s not forget this release comes just prior to yet another presumably not insignificant payday with the biopic Deliver Me From Nowhere scheduled to hit screens this year. And he’s on the road again. Those bucks just keep rolling in.

Some titles here will already be familiar to many having previously been released in some form or other; Follow that Dream, County Fair, Johnny Bye Bye, My Hometown, Shut out the Light, Secret Garden. Plus, there are a few more with titles so bland and generic you feel tired of them even before you’ve heard them. How excited can we get about a collection of outtakes of outtakes of outtakes? Most of us are still recovering from his cover of Do I love You (Indeed I do). This feels exploitative. Like a barely disguised cash grab. If in doubt, just look at that cover art. What art, I hear you say. No effort has been made whatsoever. That’s exactly my point.

I fear Bruce, as much as I love the guy, might have gone to the well too many times and perhaps these ‘lost’ albums should have stayed lost.

Fish @ Bristol Beacon, 26/02/25

Early Marillion made music that had the power to transport you somewhere else, and the albums Misplaced Childhood (1985) and Clutching at Straws (1987) still stand as two of the best of all time, the music itself perfectly complemented by Mark Wilkinson’s Jester art which was an integral part of the overall project in much the same way Eddie is a part of Iron Maiden’s legacy. However, after the live album The Thieving Magpie (1988) frontman Fish parted company with the rest of the band acrimoniously. Both entities continued to put out new music, some of it pretty good, but neither would ever come close to hitting the creative and commercial heights they scaled when they combined their powers. This is being billed as Fish’s farewell tour, dubbed The Road to the Isles, before he decamps to the Outer Hebrides to live out his retirement. “The UK nights are going to be awesome indeed with every venue holding something unique and promising so much for everyone both on and off stage,” he recently after a run of European dates. “To be retiring on this wave is a wonderful feeling and I cannot adequately express how much this all means to me after over 40 years in the music business performing on stages across the world.”

In other pre-tour interviews, Fish vowed to switch up the set-list on a regular basis to keep things fresh. After all, he has a catalogue of eleven solo albums to cover, not including compilations, live albums, or the four he recorded with Marillion. Therefore, it was no great surprise when the show kicked off with Vigil, the very first track from his very first solo album, which segued neatly into Credo, the ‘big single’ from his second album, Internal Exile. From there, things got a bit more unpredictable. I thought his final studio album, 2020’s Weltschmerz (German for ‘world weariness’), would be well represented, but that didn’t turn out to be the case. In face, I don’t think he performed a single track from it, which was just plain weird. Instead, after an animated Big Wedge, Shadowplay, Cliche, A Feast of Consequences, and a stunning Just Good Friends, came the first big surprise of the night – the Marillion standard Incubus from the Fugazi album, which Fish wrote the lyrics for as he did most of the old Marillion material. It was a strange choice. I thought if he was going to play anything from this period it would be Script for a Jester’s Tear, or maybe one of the singles. The bulk of the remaining set was taken up by a near-30 minute rendition of the Plague of Ghosts suit of songs from 1999’s Raingods and Zippos album. That “make it happen” refrain always reminds me of Oasis, but that’s hardly Fish’s fault. If anything, we can blame the Gallagher brothers for that.

The main encore kicked off with A Gentleman’s Excuse Me, another cut from his debut solo album. Given this is his retirement tour, the lines “Can you get it inside your head I’m tired of dancing?” seem to carry a little extra weight. This was followed by the Misplaced Childhood-era heavyweight triumvirate of Kayleigh, Lavender, and Heart of Lothian, the guitarist doing a damn fine Steve Rothery impersonisation throughout. It has to be said, these songs, despite being more than 40-years old, have not only stood the test of time but never been topped by either Fish or Marillion. The band Fish has assembled for this tour, mostly made up of old acquaintances, didn’t miss a note, even if Fish did from time to time (a consequence of being a 66-year old touring musician). He might have trouble hitting the high bars, but he more than makes up for it in showmanship and sheer stage presence. The songs were interwoven with stories and bursts of humour which proved beyond doubt how good a raconteur he is. Things got pretty emotional at times, the set running past the 10pm curfew and totalling well over two hours. And the end really did feel like a goodbye.

Bristol Beacon (previously known as Colston Hall, but let’s not talk about that) is a superb venue. Designed as a theatre and first opened in 1867, in its current guise it has a capacity of 1,800 spread over three tiers making it perfect for intimate, emotive nights like this. I watched from the stalls. I love it up in the stalls. You get a great view, it’s pretty chilled because all the proper fans go on the floor, and the acoustics are phenomenal. The venue itself is steeped in rock history, having previously played host to the Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Queen, David Bowie, Iron Maiden, Bob Marley, and the Who. Legend has it that during a gig in November 1964 a bunch of upstarts called The Beatles were flour-bombed by some students.

That is so Bristol.

Enjoy your retirement, and thanks for all the Fish.

Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band @ Principality Stadium, Cardiff, 5 May 2024

So here we are. The opening night of the 2024 Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band European Tour which, in effect, began in February last year before being derailed by Bruce’s stomach ulcer. I had to travel to Birmingham to see it then. At least this gig is closer to home. Bruce has taken a lot of heat on this tour. And not just because of the Ticketmaster fiasco. Some diehard fans complained about the static setlist and the slightly maudlin, reflective mood. It may not have changed much from night to night, but to be fair it was a cracking set and if I had to sit down and write one of my own, it wouldn’t be far off. Some of that criticism must have stung Bruce, because here it seemed as if he were begrudgingly trying to give all the people everything they wanted at the same time. There were rarities galore and a more generally upbeat tone. Gone are the long jazzy improv sessions, giving way to a litany of more leaner and muscular crowd pleasers. In many ways this felt like a band giving it everything in one last power drive.

Despite a few cursory yells of “Cardiff!” there was very little interaction with the crowd in the opening stages, which was a bit unusual for Bruce. Instead, he let the music do the talking and dug deep in a bid to prove the naysayers wrong. The opening track, always a point of discussion between Bruce fans, was So Young and in Love, a sax-heavy, sixties-enthused deep cut that first appeared on his 1998 compilation Tracks, though the song itself is much older than that. My guess is this slot will be regularly occupied by something random. Or he might do it just often enough that when he does start shows with something more conventional, that’ll be a surprise in itself. Springsteen has a history of doing this, often busting out covers that have a connection to the place he is playing. I remember seeing him open a London gig once with London Calling by the Clash, and he sometimes plays INXS songs in Australia. Word is he has been rehearsing an old Pogues tune, which might be significant given he is scheduled to play a few gigs in Ireland soon. It’s attention to detail like this which makes each gig more of an experience for the fans. Though I have no idea what So Young and in love has with Wales. I live in hope of seeing him play an Alarm song in Wales.

Lonesome Day, No Surrender, Prove it all night, The Promised Land, and Darlington County all followed in quick succession with barely a pause for breath. It was exhilarating. Then came Ghosts from his 2020 album Letter to You, one of his best tunes in years which sits easily among the older, more established material. In fact, that whole album is a banger. A definite late-career return to form. Another lurch to leftfield came in the form of nineties relic Better Days, played as a result of a sign request. With such an expansive back catalogue to choose from, as well as the likelihood of the odd cover version, I can’t see that song getting too many more outings on this tour. Presumably the bulk of the set will remain unchanged but Bruce will slot these little oddities around it to spice things up. This undoubtedly won’t please everyone, but it seems the most sensible approach.

It was exhausting just watching this. Just shy of three hours might not sound like much, but the dude is almost 75 years old. It’s all made more taxing by the emotional investment demanded of the crowd. It’s pretty intense, especially in the middle of the set which included flawless run-throughs of My City of Ruins, The River, a cover of the Commodores’ Night Shift from his most recent album Only the Strong Survive, and a rare If I was The Priest, culminating with a rumination on absent friends and being the last surviving member of his first band in the introduction to Last Man standing. Cards on the table, some moments do seem a bit contrived and, dare I say, overdramatic. But Bruce is an entertainer, and he does his job well. I absolutely loved the segue from Wrecking Ball through The Rising and into Badlands, leading into a rousing Thunder Road. The energy levels barely drop a notch.

With this show, The Boss takes you on a journey, and it’s not always an easy road to travel. There will be both sadness and joy, elation and devastation. With all kinds of sentimental swerves depending on the little tweaks Bruce makes along the way. A Bruce show is a microcosm of life. There’s a lot of regret, something probably most humans are dealing with to some extent. Its relatable. If you’ve been following Bruce for any length of time, and most of the at his gigs have, you form unique bonds and attachments to these songs. They might remind you of certain people, times, or places. Lonesome day, for example, take me back to a breakup I had 20-years ago. Badlands brings back the feeling of being a rambunctious teenager who thought he knew it all. The River, for some reason, brings back memories of a trip to see the Boss in Rotterdam a lifetime ago where I got robbed in a cafe and strip searched by French border police. Even the obscure opener blasted me with memories because Tracks was such a seminal release for me that I remember where and when I bought it and by extension who I was going out with at the time.

The joy was compounded about two thirds through when Bruce turned the house lights on, another long-standing tradition, and ran through a thrilling life affirming sort-of extended encore (I say sort-of extended encore because I don’t actually remember them ever leaving the stage) of Dancing in the Dark, Born in the USA, Born to Run, Bobby Jean and Tenth Avenue Freeze Out. By then you felt like this was your reward at the end of that long, difficult journey. These songs mean different things to different people, like a hidden language only you and maybe the Boss himself, can understand. Well, not even he understands it. He doesn’t even know you exist. It’s just you. But as pathetic as that might sound, at least we found a shred of meaning in this fucked up world and for that alone we should be grateful. This, I recently worked out, is the same kind of deeply personal relationship some overly-religious people say they have with Jesus. And others have with Taylor Swift who, incidentally, is playing this very venue next month. Each to their own, I guess. I don’t think its an accident that in later years Bruce has inserted more religious references and imagery in his shows, almost like he us taking on the role of preacher. Or cult leader. There’s a reason so many fans (and sometimes reviewers) liken seeing the Boss in concert to a religious experience.

Maybe we are all looking for some kind of connection, and in an increasingly isolated and segregated world where we seem to have less and less all the time, we find it in places like this. Being part of the fan community helps you meet like minded people and have conversations that not many other people would find stimulating. We get it. We all understand. This journey we are on together is another chapter in the book of our life, and because of Bruce we are all here together at this precise moment in time. It’s all fine and dandy being a lone wolf, but even wolves know there is safety in numbers sometimes. Whatever helps us all get through the day and make it to the next milestone. I very much doubt we will ever see the E Street Band as a live force at the conclusion of this extended tour, but I said that last time.

That reminds me of a meme I saw recently. The earth is billions of years old, and you are lucky enough to be on it the same time as Bruce Springsteen.

Hallelujah!

Bruce Springsteen @ Villa Park, Birmingham, 16 June 2023

I’ve seen the Boss a bunch of times before. The first time was at Wembley Arena as a wide-eyed 18-year old, and it’s been one hell of a ride since then. Jobs, friendships, relationships and Prime Ministers have come and gone, and there have been endless ups, downs and roundabouts. It almost feels like Bruce has been beside me every step of the way, not only soundtracking my life but encouraging me, guiding me, cheering from the sidelines and chastising me when I needed it. Whenever I hear Born to Run I am 16 again, and my life is a blank canvass. Trouble River will always remind me of being stuck on a bus in the middle of a torrential flood in New York city circa 1999, and Follow that Dream transports me to a summer’s day at the San Siro in the midst of a break-up in 2003 when I first heard it.

I didn’t spend anything like the couple of grand for a ticket for this gig often touted in the press, but it didn’t come cheap. Add on travel expenses, a night in a city centre hotel during peak season, and a few £7.50 pints, and the cost probably weigh in around the £600 mark. It’s a lot. I could probably have gone on a package holiday anywhere on the contiednent for less. But having missed the last couple of tours, and then Covid sticking its oar in, I felt this one is important. I hope I’m wrong, but I have a sneaky feeling this might be the last global outing for Bruce and the E Streeters.

To be brutally honest, I wasn’t expecting much. There are a few reasons for this. For starters, Springsteen and the original E Streeters are all well into their seventies now. You can’t expect the same level of performance they gave in their thirties. Nobody other than Father Time is to blame for that. There’s also the much-derided ticketing drama which left a sour taste in many mouths, and a set-list that has barely changed since the tour kicked off in Tampa back in February. This is unusual for Bruce and, perhaps unfairly, not what fans have come to expect. In fact, some shows have been identical to others, which is almost unheard of in Bruce folklore. One thing I have always admired about the Boss is his inherent ability to be spontaneous and make every show special. If you look back over pre-2023 set lists, you’ll be hard pressed to find any duplicates, especially after the original River tour, something which makes each and every show unique. On recent jaunts, Bruce has taken sign requests from the crowd, some of them pretty obscure, in an attempt to ‘challenge’ the band.

Then there’s the choice of material. The general theme is one of introspection, retrospection and loss. This is exemplified by Bruce’s story, one of the few monologues he indulges in, about being the last surviving member of his first band going into Last Man Standing. Ghosts, a stand-out track from his most recent album Letter to You deals with the same subject matter, and while I initially thought the title track was a love song, after seeing it performed live, and Bruce’s constant gesticulations to the crowd, it becomes clear that the song is, in fact, a message to fans:

Things I found out through hard times and good

I wrote ’em all out in ink and blood

Dug deep in my soul and signed my name true

And sent it in my letter to you

But it isn’t all maudlin contemplation. It’s almost as if the show is structured to reflect the five stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance, with one last stage tacked onto the end for good measure: joy for a life lived well. It makes sense. We don’t realise it so much when we’re young, but as we progress through life, death becomes an ever more prevailing aspect until, inevitably, we all succumb. Most shows on this tour so far have started with a defiant No Surrender, almost certainly a response to the Covid nightmare, and maybe the fragility of life itself, and have included stompers like Bobby Jean, Glory Days, Mary’s Place, Out in the Streets and Backsteets. However, the songs seem to take on a new context in this setting, and the sometimes whimsical lyrics are highlighted. This is never more evident than during a stripped-down My Hometown, which drew one of the biggest cheers of the evening.

Miami Steve Van Zandt said on Twitter recently that though there would be the odd surprise, generally, this time out Bruce had a particular story he wanted to tell, and chose to perform songs that fit the narrative. Despite featuring nothing from a clutch of albums including Greetings from Asbury Park, NJ, Human Touch, Lucky Town, The Ghost of Tom Joad, Magic, Working on a Dream, Devils & Dust, Tunnel of Love, or Western Stars, the songs he does play tonight offer a pretty fair and balanced representation of his life and work.

True to Miami Steve’s word, most nights he manages to shoehorn in a track mid-set that he hasn’t played much (if at all), this swiftly becoming the mechanism by which to make each gig special. At other dates he has busted out I’m on Fire, Brilliant Disguise, Trapped, Jungleland, Pay Me My Money Down, Working on the Highway and a cover of Dirty Water. We got the tour debut of The River. I’ll take that. All things considered, it’s a cracking set-list, and I couldn’t have done better if I’d sat down and written it myself, except perhaps for including Human Touch, Darkness on the Edge of Town, or Living Proof somewhere and substituting Incident on 57th Street for Kitty’s Back. But meh, we all have our whims. Perhaps the greatest advantage of sticking to the same basic set is that each member of the band has the opportunity to nail their parts and polish them to the nth degree.

The thing that will stay with me is the outpouring of joy when Bruce stepped on stage, which was maintained for most of the show. I looked around and everyone in attendance was smiling and hugging it out. It was clear that a large percentage of these people were strangers, or at least had been until today. There were even a few tears. I think that’s part of the Bruce live experience. It’s been a long, bumpy road for a lot of Bruce fans, and there is a kind of solidarity to be found in that. These songs bind us all inexorably together. In the words of local news outlet Birmingham Live: “If you could have somehow harvested the loving energy that the Birmingham crowd were expressing for this troupe, you’d have had enough electricity to illuminate the city skyline for the rest of the year.”

The high-octane set flagged a little in the middle, with an extended Kitty’s Back and The E Street Shuffle either side of his cover of the Commodores’ Nightshift, but I think we all needed a breather by that point. At least this section gave some fringe members of the band, like the backing singers and the E Street Horns, their moment in the spotlight, not to mention Max Weinberg, who is still one of the best drummers on the planet.

Bruce plays with the format from time to time, as is his want, and is not opposed to doing the unexpected, but he is the consummate performer and knows how to work a crowd like nobody else. There were many highlights, but for me, a blistering Prove it all Night stood out and closing out the main set with one-two punch of Badlands and Thunder Road, was a stroke of genius. Both songs are equally anthemic and powerful, and carry the same message of hope and optimism. It’s songs like these, with lyrics about yearning for more from life and looking for a way out of a humdrum existence, that set me on my own path in life. Judging by the crowd reaction, I wasn’t the only one.

After barely time to draw breath, the encores begin with a fired up version of Born in the USA, a song misunderstood for so long which has now become a crucial cornerstone of Springsteen’s repertoire. Even before the last notes of a rollicking Dancing in the Dark have faded out, the big screens either side of the stage start carrying tributes to Clarence Clemons and Danny Federici, two members of the E Street Band not with us any more, to complement a stirring rendition of Clarence’s unofficial theme song Tenth Avenue Freeze Out, another ode to the past. These days saxophone duties are handled by Jake Clemons, Clarence’s nephew, who deserves a special mention. When first inducted into the E Street band in 2012, a year after his uncle’s passing, he had some pretty big shoes to fill. He dropped a few bum notes here and there and lacked the range, power, and stage presence of an on-form Clarence. There’s no shame in that, the man was a force of nature, but Jake has really blossomed in recent years. Now, his playing is almost indistinguishable from the Big Man’s, and that’s probably the highest compliment you can give him.

The mammoth almost three-hour set closes with a poignant solo acoustic version of I’ll See You in my Dreams, another track from Letter to You. A melancholy, yet fitting way to round out an unforgettable evening. Despite ostensibly being about losing someone close, the song provides hope in the line: “For death is not the end, and I’ll see you in my dreams,” reaffirming for the last time the core narrative that one often overlooked consequence of death is a new perspective, or even appreciation of life. It doesn’t always seem like it, but it could be said in that regard death is a gift to the living.

All dodgy photography by me. GO HERE for previous Bruce Blogs.

Gig review – The Dangerous Summer @ Thekla, Bristol, 29/09/2022

A year in China, Covid restrictions, and being old as fuck meant I hadn’t seen any live music for almost four years. That’s a long time, and it was always going to take something special to get me off my ass and down the front again. That ‘something special’ turned out to be a UK tour by The Dangerous Summer, one of my favourite bands of the past decade.

First, a word about the venue, Thekla. I love spaces with character, and being a converted cargo ship moored in Bristol’s Floating Harbour, Thekla has plenty of that. Built in Germany in 1958, it carried various cargoes between European ports until running aground off the coast of Northern England. And there it stayed, for seven years, until being bought, patched up, and sailed to Bristol by American novelist Ki Longfellow-Stanshall (who died earlier this year), her husband Vivian, and a small crew of volunteers, where it has played host to gigs, shows, and club nights since 1984. What a story.

TDS have to be one of the most underrated bands there is. I’ve been a fan since the Absolute Punk days (if you know, you know) and I reviewed both their 2019 album Mother Nature and their 2020 EP All That is Left of the Blue Sky right here on this blog. For all intents and purposes they are the definition of a cult band, and no doubt they’ll maintain that status long after they’ve gone. People will still be discovering them in 50 years time. Their fans know this. Musically, if you imagine a cross between Jimmy Eat World and Joshua Tree-era U2, with maybe a touch of My Chemical Romance or Alkaline Trio, you’d be half way there. Rather than try to make sense of my inadequate description it’s probably easier to just look them up on YouTube.

But first the support, Beauty School. I must admit I knew nothing about these guys. One of the joys of going to gigs, especially on the club circuit, is the opportunity to be blown away by bands you’d never heard of before. Granted, it doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it is a thing of beauty (school).

As I watched the Leeds-based five-piece plug in and tune up I must have looked like a curious spectator examining an especially interesting museum exhibit. They went about everything with gusto, and just seemed happy to be there. While most bands are preoccupied with image, one of these guys looked like Eddie the Eagle wearing a Leeds United shirt. I was curious to see what kind of noise a two-guitar set up would make, yet intensely wary of getting earfucked by a bunch of talentless northern reprobates. The tiny stage barely seemed big enough, especially when a man mountain with blue hair came bounding into sight holding a mic. I had barely finished asking myself who the fuck this might be when I realized it was the lead singer. Although a new band who have just released their first album, appropriately called Happiness, singer Joe Cabrera confessed mid-set that all the members were veterans of other bands and had presumably been on the circuit for years. This shines through in their playing, which is smooth, polished and full of energy. The highlight for me was Take it Slow and set closer Junior. They were so good I even forgave them for the Leeds United shirt.

I won’t waste time going over the history of a band with a lot of history. Let’s just say Maryland band TDS are out in support of their latest album, Coming Home. It’s been a long road. Soon after forming in 2006, they signed to Hopeless Records and put out a steady stream of quality material until 2013 when they took a 5-year hiatus. Since regrouping, you get the feeling they’re trying to make up for lost time. Long-time members AJ Perdomo (vocals and bass) and Matt Kennedy (guitars) have been supplemented by ex-Every Avenue guitarist Josh Withenshaw and demon drummer Christian Zawacki, who hits those things like a man possessed. The band’s entire chemistry is a thing to behold. They look like they’ve been playing together all their lives, and have no trouble replicating their studio sound in a live environment. If anything, the songs carry more weight, the musicianship even more impressively precise, and the lyrics even more impactful and emotive.

They start their set with Prologue from the aforementioned Mother Nature album, which isn’t a song at all but an intro fashioned from a genuine voice mail Perdomo received from a friend which became ‘It’s own piece of art’. This builds then segues effortlessly into Blind Ambition and the soaring title track from the new album, which judging by the reaction it received is already a crowd favourite. It can be tricky working new material into a set, but there were no such problems here. A lot of thought had gone into what was played when, and the newer material like Someday, which took its time to grow on me but now ranks in my top five, slotted in neatly with the more established crowd pleasers.

I’m in this pic if you look closely

Way Down was every bit as powerful as you might expect, the crowd noise regularly drowning out Perdomo’s vocals, and Where I Want to Be, the first track from their 2009 debut album, almost brought the house down. For Bring me Back to Life Perdomo left his bass behind and got in the crowd. These kinds of antics usually come across as contrived, but on this occasion the sentiments seemed genuine. These are big songs, not just in stature, but scope and sheer presence. The only issue was the set having to be cut short because of an imminent club night, which smacks of either bad planning or simple greed, but was no fault of the band’s. They didn’t play my favourite song, either, but you can’t have everything. By the time we arrived at a euphoric closing one-two of Fuck Them All (which is nowhere near as aggressive as it sounds) and signature tune The Permanent Rain. I actually met a guy from Cardiff who said he’d named his own band after that song. There can be few greater compliments.

By the end of the set I felt like I’d been on a journey. I wasn’t quite the same person I’d been at the start. TDS have a back catalogue that puts most of their contemporaries to shame, and as they embark on this new chapter in their career having left Hopeless, gone indie, and then signed to Rude Records all in the space of a couple of years, they are destined to go from strength to strength. Don’t let them pass you by, or you’ll live to regret it. Come back soon, guys.

Bruce Blogs #3 – My Top 10 Live Recordings

Any Springsteen aficionado will tell you that his official studio output only tells half the story. The Boss has been touring for over 45 years and played many thousands of shows, most of which have been meticulously logged and recorded by his fervent fanbase. Make no mistake, venturing into Springsteen live recording land is a daunting prospect, and no place for the faint-hearted. For that reason, I’ve decided to make this list to help you navigate. This isn’t supposed to be a definitive list of the best Springsteen live recordings available, because I haven’t heard them all. Instead, think of it as my personal Top 10. Like any list, it’s subjective, but hopefully it will give you a starting point.

Five or six years ago, this would’ve been a list of bootlegs. But then The Boss, or more likely one of his management team, saw a huge opportunity and started selling professionally-produced and packaged live concert recordings on a variety of formats virtually as and when they happen. This had the simultaneous effect of virtually wiping out the bootleggers overnight and creating another considerable revenue stream in one fell swoop. They are even opening up the archives and releasing classic concerts remastered and, where necessary, restored. Genius. It’s a winner for me, because now I instantly download bunches of MP3 files which cost less than £8 for over three hours of music instead of paying £60-plus for a bootleg which sounded like it had been recorded in the back of a van and took seven months to arrive by post. You can check out the existing archive of live recordings HERE.

10. Brooklyn, New York, April 25^th 2016

Let’s start proceedings with a show from The 2016 River tour, and I think the first I ever acquired from the (then) new-fangled Springsteen Live Archive site when it first went up. Having listened to so many sketchy boots over the years I was dubious at first, but blown away by the sound and overall production quality. During this leg of the tour, Bruce and the E Street band were playing the seminal River album (which Bruce refers to here as his ‘coming of age’ record) in its entirety from start to finish, with a few hits and deep cuts tacked onto the end. A bit predictable perhaps, even though many of the tracks are arranged differently and extended far beyond their studio limitations, and Bruce himself evidently soon got bored and started mixing things up. This show is notable for being the last with that rigid format. Oh, and a primo Prince tribute in the form of a storming version of Purple Rain.

9. The Schottenstein Centre, Ohio, 31^st July 2005

One from leftfield. Devils & Dust was a weird tour. The stripped-down album had a lot in common with its predecessors Nebraska and The Ghost of Tom Joad, but the tour, mostly played in intimate theatres, was something else entirely. It was virtually a one-man show, apart from a few guest appearances, with Bruce re-imagining songs from his expansive backlist and playing every instrument needed to bring them to life. Some were almost changed beyond recognition (Reason to Believe) while other interpretations veered off into experimental territory. As a spectacle, it was okay. I understand the need to shake things up from time to time. But as a document, the Devils & Dust tour is little more than a WTF side-note. When the distortion fed into the recordings that surfaced afterwards, it was sometimes difficult to tell what was deliberate and what wasn’t. Still, this effort, with its rarities in the form of Lift me Up (never played before) Cynthia, and a trio of Tunnel of Love tracks (One Step Up, When You’re Alone and Valentine’s Day) is well worth looking up.

8. First Union Centre, Philadelphia, September 20^th 1999

I could’ve picked any show from the Reunion tour, especially the first half, as most were epic and the setlists didn’t alter much. The E Streeters were just glad to be back, and the crowds fed off the energy. I settled on this one, released on bootleg as Backstreets of Philadelphia (Polar Bear Records) for the simple reason that I was in the crowd that night, so it has a special kind of resonance with me. It’s a long way from south Wales to Philadelphia. Plus, the Boss opened with Candy’s Room, which he doesn’t do often, if ever. In fact, the entire set was heavily reliant on material from Darkness on the Edge of Town, with five of the first dozen tracks lifted from that album, which I personally consider his best. On this tour, the newly-reformed and re-focused E Street Band were at the top of their game and they absolutely kille dit every night.

7. Olympic Stadium, Helsinki, Finland, 31^st July 2012. Released on Vigorous Records as The Finnish Finish

Lauded as the night ‘the myth became reality’ this show is included not only on the basis that it is Bruce’s longest gig to date (well over four hours, not including the five-track mini acoustic set he performed in the afternoon) but because the set-list fucking rocks. Kicking off with a cover of Rockin’ all Over the World, we are treated to a riotous opening section culminating with the ’78 intro version of Prove it all Night. Deep cuts like Be True, Loose Ends and Back in Your Arms also make rare appearances, sitting well alongside material from then then-current Wrecking Ball album. There was just something special about that night, which Bruce himself alludes to before We Are Alive. That’s one of the truly great things about Bruce gigs; the spontaneity. Literaly anything can happen, at any time. No disrespect to Helsinki, but if this was contrived at all, he would have undoubtedly chosen to play his longest ever show at a more prestigious venue, maybe in London, Milan or New York. That’s worthy of another tip of the hat.

6. Berlin Night, 19^th April 1996

The Boss didn’t tour the Nebraska album. The closest he came was performing nightly mini-acoustic sets as part of the main show on 1984-85 Born in the USA tour. Taking the stage alone must be a daunting experience, especially for an artist so accustomed to having a full backing band behind him, but Bruce rose to the occasion. Of course he did. This show, partially broadcast on the radio in some countries before being released in its entirety by famed bootleg label Crystal Cat, is perhaps the pick of the Tom Joad shows. Less experimental and more folksy than the Devils & Dust recordings, as you would expect, the setlist is dominated by tracks from the ‘solo acoustic’ albums. However, Bruce still manages to throw a few spanners in the works, as he always does, stripping down Murder Incorporated, Bobby Jean and Adam Raised a Cain, to name but a few. He also deserves some kudos for trying to speak German.

5. The Spectrum, Philadelphia, September 17^th 1984

This might be sacrilegious to some fans, but the Born in the USA tour is probably my least favourite. Most of his concerts are timeless. You could listen to one from 1976 and another from 2016 and have difficulty telling which is which. But the Born in the USA shows (like the album) are instantly recognisable as a product of their era. All elevated keyboards swirling around vast stadiums and tinny production values, they couldn’t be more eighties if you wedged them into a pastel-coloured tank top with shoulder pads . It doesn’t help that not much quality material emerged from that tour, with most examples being audience recordings taken on those old cassette recorders. This show, the penultimate night of a mammoth six-date residency at the Spectrum, is a rare exception. It was released on bootleg as Tramps Like Us, and then in a remixed form as Perfection At Last. It’s not quite perfect, but it’s not far off. Opener Born in the USA segueing into Out in the Streets is simply breathtaking.

4. Hammersmith Odeon ‘75

And now we’re going back. Way back. The Hammersmith Odeon now goes by the less auspicious name the Eventim Apollo, but this still stands as one of Springsteen’s legendary gigs. This is the sound of a band captured just as they are hitting their stride. After a low-key Thunder Road, you can feel the bristling intensity during the intro to Tenth Avenue Freeze Out. Shows from this era were generally shorter, barely scraping the two-hour mark, because more often than not the band would play two a night. Boasting definitive versions of It’s Backstreets and Jungleland along with a killer 17-minute rendition of Kitty’s Back (featuring an improv section and a few bars of Van Morrison’s Moondance) this gig was so good it became one of the few to be granted a long-overdue official release.

3. Coliseum Night (29 December 1980)

Before the pomp and extravagance of the Born in the USA tour, many would argue that Bruce & the E Street Band peaked on the 1980/81 River tour. The shows in general were more geared toward blasting out a succession of 3-minute crowd pleasers (as was the album) than the more indulgent focus of past tours. No 17-minute versions of Kitty’s Back here. Of those currently in circulation, most people would probably choose the famous NYE bootleg, recorded a couple of nights later at the same venue (these shows collectively make up a significant proportion of the Live 1975/85 box set), but a combination of the quality of recording and a slightly superior set-list takes this one for me. Over the span of a 37-song performance Bruce expertly moves the audience through the gears, from openers Night and Out in the Street to the sombre Factory and Independence Day a few songs later. It’s like being on an emotional rollercoaster.

2. Washington, 26^th September 2016

Despite the band missing some big hitters in Clarence Clemons and Danny Federici, the second half of the River tour of 2016 is probably my favourite run of Bruce shows ever. I love the way the band sounds, and the quality of the recordings on these later sets is incredible. Listening to them is like having Bruce and the E Street Band perform in your living room. Most stateside shows kicked off with a jaw-dropping 13-minute orchestral version of New York City Serenade and generally favoured older material, mostly taken from the first two albums, giving the whole thing a glorious retro summer vibe. Some of those tracks, in particular Kitty’s Back and Does This Bus Stop at 82^nd Street? feature a lot of lyrics and chord changes. They must be a nightmare to play live, which would explain Bruce’s apparent reluctance to do so over the years. Why set yourself up for failure? The 34 track set list performed here also borrows heavily from Born in the USA (six tracks), and throws up the odd surprise like Because the Night, Trapped and Secret Garden. Sublime.

1. Capitol Theatre, Passaic, NJ

The one and only. Released on various bootlegs, most famously as Piece de Resistance, this is a near-perfect recording of the second in a trilogy of triumphant shows running from 19-21 September at the Capitol Theatre, New Jersey, again on the Darkness tour. For many years, this was considered the king of bootlegs. The show has recently been given the archive treatment so it’s now available in better sound quality. During my ‘research’ for this articles, I listened seven or eight Darkness shows virtually back-to-back, and apart from varying sound quality (dependent on sources) there is very little to choose between them. I very nearly went for perennial favourite Winterland recorded in San Francisco a few months later, but this one takes top spot firstly due to the near-mythical status it has deservedly earned in the intervening years, and on the strength of a scorching Incident on 57^th Street, which surprisingly enough wasn’t played too often on this tour. It comes at the expense of Streets of Fire, but everything has a price. The only thing I dislike about this show is the inclusion of Santa Claus is Coming to Town. Why. WTF? It was September.

If you enjoyed reading this, you might appreciate my previous Boss blogs about my experiences following the Boss around the world and a more detailed account of my first Bruce gig.

The Alarm – Stream (Hurricane of Change) (review)

The Alarm were bothering the charts long before the triumphant one-two combination of Equals and Sigma. Between 1987 and 1989 they released a trio of seminal albums beginning with Eye of the Hurricane and ending with Change, with the live mini-album Electric Folklore sandwiched in between. The late eighties were turbulent times, not just for the band, who despite arguably being at their commercial and creative peak were beginning to be torn apart by internal politics and squabbling, but also in a wider social context. This was the aftermath of the Miner’s strikes, and when the Berlin Wall fell shortly afterwards it catapulted Europe and the rest of the world into a period of seismic change. While all this was going on, lead singer Mike Peters travelled extensively through his homeland of Wales in a bid to rediscover his roots. During that period of intense retrospection he wrote extensively, many of the lyrics eventually being incorporated into the songs which appeared on the original albums while others fell by the wayside and still others remained unfinished or in some cases even unwritten.

Though it was their third official release (fourth if you count the debut EP) the original Eye of the Hurricane was the first Alarm record I ever bought, and I soon busied myself filling out my collection. The fact that I ended up with some of that collection on vinyl, some on cassette, and some on CD was perhaps indicative of the uncertainty of the times. The thing that resonated with me most wasn’t the anthemic, fist-pumping choruses or impassioned musicianship, though those things definitely played a part, but more the lyrics. In a landscape consisting mostly of Bon Jovi and Guns N Roses clones, it was refreshing to hear someone singing about the place where I was from, and about the things that mattered to me, especially at that stage in my life. I was 13 or 14, and things are especially confusing then. You begin to ask questions and seek meaning, and it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to say that the Alarm’s music helped me find answers to some of those questions.

Thirty years later, Peters has revisited that period and put all the material in a modern context, recently commenting:

“I have always thought of these three albums as an Alarm trilogy. A lot happened to the band and the world, during the writing and recording sessions from 1987-1990. As one decade bled into another, the themes of response and resolve to contend with uncertain times are running through the core of each and every album. Played together, these songs tell their own story and, with the tumultuous times Europe and the USA can expect to face in the coming months and years, are still as relevant today as when they were first written.”

The original tracks have been re-recorded or even re-imagined, those unfinished or unwritten songs have finally been laid down, and the whole thing adapted into a sprawling double album called Hurricane of Change tied together with segments of poetry and spoken-word narratives. Mike Peters has adopted a similar approach in recent years with re-recordings of earlier Alarm albums Declaration and Strength which, though critically and commercially well received, split much of the fanbase with some appreciating the new interpretations and others maintaining that the original recordings should be left as they are. My stance has always been firmly in the former camp. I enjoy hearing different versions of my favourite songs. Always have. Remixes, remasters, covers, demos, acoustic or live versions, bring them on. Music, like life, is always progressing and evolving whether we like it or not. If your favourite flavour ice cream is strawberry, it doesn’t mean you can’t also enjoy the occasional scoop of mint choc chip as well. Besides, the hardcore traditionalists will always have the original recordings by the original line-up. It’s not like anyone is forcing them to surrender their record collection at gunpoint.

This is an ambitious project, told in chronological order with the emotive autobiographical spoken-word parts delivered by Peters, with a supporting cast of members including his wife Jules, and other members of the band, all adding depth and a theatrical quality that was missing from the originals. Most of the re-imagined songs, slower-paced and piano-heavy, bear little relation to the original versions. Rain in the Summertime and Rescue Me, two of the band’s biggest hits, are virtually unrecognisable. Of the new songs, for me Ghosts of Rebecca and The Ballad of Randolph Turpin stand out both lyrically and sonically dealing, as they do, with folk heroes and uprisings, and really do sound at home in this setting. The first disc (dubbed Downstream) presents the Eye of the Hurricane album, where the new songs serve as missing pieces. The second disc (Upstream) is comprised of tracks originally found on the Change album, including Where a Town Once Stood which I tactfully re-purposed as the title of one of my stories recently, as well as a few b-sides recorded around the same time and another new song, A New Day. The whole package makes a worthy addition to any Alarm fan’s collection, serving to put the original albums in context and take the songs down a different, lyrically-focused route where there is more of an impetus on mood, atmosphere, and storytelling rather than eighties radio-friendly pomp.

Watch the official trailer for Hurricane of Change HERE.

Peters describes the recording process thus:

“By looking at the lyrics afresh, I have now been able to fully realise what I was grasping for as a songwriter and lyricist in 1987-1989. Back then, my confidence had been blunted by a difficult creative process, and I had always privately felt that there was a lot more left to be discovered within the original body of music. With these new recordings, I have been able to realise a torrent of new possibilities and emotions and, in turn, draw them out of the very same songs. By recording Hurricane of Change in this new way, I feel that I have been able to liberate my original lyrical vision and re-present the music in a way that I believe, is just as relevant, if not more vital than ever before.”

Go HERE for merchandise, tickets, and Alarm/Mike Peters recordings.

 

Boss Blogs #2: I’m 27 Years Burnin’ Down the Road

Anyone who knows me will tell you how much of a Springsteen fanatic I am. This is a guy who dragged his then-girlfriend all the way from south Wales to Philadelphia for a gig on the E Street Band reunion tour that ended up being cancelled because of a hurricane. Anyway, the first time I ever saw him live in concert was a few years before that, at Wembley Arena on July 10^th 1992 – 27 years ago this week. By the way, I also have a weird fascination with the number 27, and I absolutely love it when things come together like this. Sometimes, life could almost be scripted.

I was eighteen at the time, and a friend and I decided to travel up to London by coach to catch one of the dates on the Boss’s four (or maybe it was five) night stand on the Human Touch/Lucky Town tour. You know the one, it was when he fired most of the E Street Band and hired a bunch of session musicians to play their parts. Bruce has always been a bit funny like that. He was and is very wary of people sticking labels on his music and is always trying new things, or at least trying old things new ways. After a brief spell in the very early seventies pretending to be the next Bob Dylan at the behest of his record company, he spent the next decade or so playing straight-up rock shows. Hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands. After the mammoth Born in the USA run, he was burned out. He decided he’d gone as far as he could in that direction and brought in a horn section for his next tour in support of tunnel of Love in 1988, which was full of bombast and theatrics. His next tour would be stripped down to solo acoustic (Ghost of Tom Joad, 1996/97), and in between those two extreme states of being we had… this.

A lot of people didn’t like the Human Touch/Lucky Town albums when they first came out. Personally, I loved them. I loved Human Touch, with its slick production and pure pop hooks slightly more than the more rootsy and raw Lucky Town. But weirdly, over time that situation has been reversed and it’s now the latter which is remembered with more fondness. With a couple of patchy albums to promote and no E Street Band, I suspected it was going to be a slightly surreal evening in London.

And so it proved.

Not to take anything away from the band, who were about as polished and tight as you could hope for. The thing that struck me most was how charismatic the Boss was in the flesh. The moment he strutted onto the stage, greeted the crowd, and counted down into Better Days, he was captivating. For the first few songs I simply stood there with my mouth hanging open. I was in awe. The stripped down version of dancing in the Dark segueing into Darkness on the Edge of Town which appeared a couple of songs in still stands as one of my all-time greatest in-concert moments. All this was helped by the fact that without even trying, my friend and I had somehow managed to blag a couple of amazing seats. Centre stage, about half a dozen rows back with a completely unobstructed view. I would remember those seats over a decade later when my seat at the San Siro in Milan turned out to be on the wrong side of a massive concrete pillar.

The spell Springsteen was weaving was all ruined shortly after when he launched into an extended version of 57 Channels and Nothin’ On. I mean, the 2:57 album version is bad enough. He may have had good intentions when he wrote that song but man, it’s a stinker. It’s one of life’s great mysteries why some A&R clown at Columbia Records saw fit to release it as a single. In fact, I came to realize years later that Springsteen chose this particular night to play all my least-favourite songs. Right after 57 Channels came The River, which always struck me as a overlong and sombre (sacrilege, I know) and a bit later came Cover Me, possibly THE worst track on Born in the USA. Predictably, the set was littered with unremarkable deep cuts from the two new albums: Man’s Job, Roll of the Dice, With Every Wish, Leap of Faith, Local Hero, Real World. All these came at the expense of some bona fide classics that were dropped from the set-list. There was no Tenth Avenue Freeze Out, no Rosalita, not a single track from Nebraska, and not even a Badlands. He did, however, play Living Proof, in my opinion one of the most underrated songs in his extensive repertoire. Granted, it’s another one from Lucky Town, but not one he pulls out often. Certainly not often enough. Brilliant Disguise and Souls of the Departed also stood out. However, the absolute highlight for me was an epic version of Light of Day, complete with audience call and response. This was a track he’d given to Joan Jett for the movie of the same name five or six years earlier, and I didn’t even know he’d written it until that night. Jobbing session musos or not, by this point he had that band (along with every member of the 12,500-strong crowd) dangling on a piece of string.

After that came the obligatory gut-busting, crowd-pleasing, booty-shaking, six-track, 40-minute extended encore starting with a breathless one-two of Glory Days and Bobby Jean and culminating in an electrified Born to Run (he’d performed it acoustically on the previous tour)and poignant show-closer My Beautiful Reward. In its entirety the show ran for over three hours, pretty standard for Springsteen. It was exhausting just watching him. The man himself was drenched in sweat, and I was so close I’m pretty sure some of it landed on me at one point. Or maybe my fading memory has embellished that little detail. It’s been 27 years, after all.

For full set list see here.

Boss Blogs #1: Meet me in the City Tonight.

 

Allister – 20 Years and Counting (review)

Allister are one of the great forgotten pop punk bands. They had all the tools – cool image, solid musicianship, a great attitude, killer tunes, witty lyrics, tattoos – yet somehow got lost in the shuffle. Don’t get me wrong, they achieved modest commercial success, especially with their Last Stop Suburbia album in 2002, and cemented their place in pop punk folklore long ago (lest we forget they were one of the first bands signed to legendary label Drive-Thru records, also home to Senses Fail, Something Corporate, Newfound Glory, Halifax and Finch, to name just a few) but the big time always eluded them. In most places, anyway. Allister, and in particular bassist and singer Scott Murphy who for a long time sustained a solo career (I think he still does), was absolutely huge in Japan. No doubt a talented individual, Murphy’s charisma and boundless enthusiasm is admirable. I met him at a gig in London a few years back, and he was awesome.

This album comes through necessity more than anything. They haven’t released anything since 2012 and wanted to mark what is essentially their 25^th anniversary as a band, and 20 years since the release of their debut album which, incidentally, was recorded on a purported production budget of $700 and featured a cover of the Fraggle Rock theme. Kudos. Someone somewhere suggested a ‘greatest hits’ style compilation, but that proved problematic as it turned out Allister didn’t actually own the recording licenses for any of the tracks on their first few releases but owned the rights to the songs themselves. Hence, the solution was to re-record, and in some cases, ‘re-imagine’ them, and pad the thing out with a few new tracks. The pick of these is probably the high-octane Peremptory Challenge, ran a close second by the slightly more restrained opener Stay with Me.

As for the re-recorded tracks, most have been updated only in the sense that they’ve lost a lot of that energetic immediacy so prevalent in pop punk circles. The guitars are choppier, the bass section slightly higher in the mix, and most tracks have been brought down an octave or two in an effort, you feel, to ingratiate them with a mainstream audience who are rapidly forgetting what drums and guitars sound like, let alone pop punk. Some, like Moper and Flypaper benefit from this treatment, but others like Scratch and A Study in Economics seem to lose a little something. Or maybe I’m just too attached to the original versions and resistant to change. Dunno. Regardless, even at 50% capacity Scratch is approximately 50% better than 90% of other songs.

One of the biggest missteps is a wholly unnecessary remake of the ska-infused Stuck Powered On from the 2012 album Life Behind Machines. In my humble opinion it was one of the band’s weakest tracks anyway, and the 2019 version adds nothing to the original. Meh. All things considered, 20 Years and Counting is a somewhat patchy affair, but has enough quality to carry it through. Beyond the new material seasoned fans are unlikely to be overly impressed, but if this release exposes Allister to a new generation, it will have done its job.

To promote the release the band have made a cool new video for Somewhere Down on Fullerton, which you can catch HERE.