The Thirst Club Esquires Bedford. Saturday 29th January 2005.
(PROLOUGE)
I took the train to Bedford last night, gandered through it's
chartered streets and was let into the Thirst club half an hour late.
After a brief managerial deception I found my self with stigmatic red
crosses on my hands marking me as underage, and prepared myself for
Esquires... sober!!
The dude at the door asked me who I was there to see "The Ten Year
Prospect" Quoth I, eagerly.
(PROSPECT)
Introduced by the guitarist, the music started and the front man
popped onto stage like a jack out of a box to sound of "Sex Attacker".
I was reminded why I was there with the welcomed vibrant
energy and their musical complexity. They performed nicely and the
front man drew in the crowd's attention swiftly. After many sporadic
attempts to start movement in the crowd, the energy on stage just got
better and better until it overflowed and filled us with the will to
break free and the crowed suddenly spiralled to a mosh pit. They
really damn rocked and I salute the vocal addition to "Bereavement
Bear"! You know it made sense! Hell I Realised that I liked them when
sober! (DRIVE LIKE CASEY)
After a few various sips from my peers' banana beers and Stella?s, the next
band opened up and apologised if they weren't quite as heavy as the
Prospect. A quote from our godfather "They're from Luton, not bad, not
good, just ok". I could say that sums it up, but I?d be lying if I
did! True they were a nice sounding band and hell I?d like to listen
along to them now and again. But there was something else, an
overwhelming honesty projecting from them, they were like groovy teddy
bears playing instruments (honestly I was sober). The dudes were up
there enjoying themselves, no image, just a kinda purity that I think
most of us appreciated. There sound was one of classic hard rock and
they knew what it was about. Though I feel they should have been
opening to prospect. (TOWERS OF LONDON)
The headliners, now I?d heard about these, but when this gent standing
with me asked, I replied that I?d never heard them play. He warned me
of flying mics and to prepare myself for a gig. Everyone had noticed
and many had been giggling along to these tight jean-wearing dudes
with big, perhaps dated hair styles. These dudes spawned from west
London and you could smell the punk all over them. They only had to hit
the first note and I pretty much new this was going to be a beauty
set. The movement on stage just kinda blurred and it was like a single
big haired tight trousered entity rotating and dispensing tasty music. (EPILOUGE)
After the set I had to leave quickly so I never got to congratulate
them for such a beauty set, yah well... we wandered back home in
high spirits and had kebabs on the way back where a small audience was
enlightened by Chris, the not-so-sober motivational speaker (pbuh). We
took the 2nd to last train home and I wandered home greeted the
parents, and had an amazing nights sleep. Although I had nothing more
than a taste of the liquor, the night was Specfuckingtacular.
The crowd were quickly engulfed by the cloud. We were assimilated to them
and the pit which was slowly woken by prospect was suddenly at full
force and driven by the music. The dude's played the most amazing punk
the front man reached out to the crowd. The guitarists did similarly
and the whole band was up at the mic?s or lapping the stage. Spitting
into the crowd like the originals, they had saliva that I was proud to
wear on my face. The communication between band and crowd was terrific
and the front man had great respect while surfing on our hands. Many
tributes to the dude replacing mics constantly. These dudes absolutely
rule. The music took it back to the classic punk, people may argue
that it makes it unoriginal as apposed to prospect?s inventiveness, but Towers of
London's performance, fluency and skill justified the legends in true
punk fashion.
Additionally, severe apologies to the girl who's face I knocked while
jumping on a friend and many greets to the dude who liked my t-shirt.
-Penguin Boy
REVIEW TWO ESQUIRES.CO.UK ARCHIVE
A big reputation to live up to is one thing, but sitting (apparently plastered) in Danny?s Bar two hours before the gig, dressed in the world?s tightest trousers with hair the like of which hasn?t been seen since the glory days of poodle metal, meant Towers of London had to do something special or they?d be laughed all the way back down the M1. And did they do something special!
When they finally swaggered / staggered onstage, the first thing you noticed was that this was a ?band? - forget the music for a minute - these guys looked one-hundred percent like a band should (local support acts take note)! Okay, so looking like Poison after a heavy night on the sauce might not be your cup of tea, but how can you not admire that kind of united, total understanding that the band?s image, whatever it is, is most of the battle? And judging by the shocked looks on the faces of much of the young crowd, this, all too sadly, was the glorious first time that they?d come face-to-face with this concept.
Anyway, what was the music like? Think Guns ?N Roses doing Sex Pistols covers and we?re not far off. But this is no covers band, and whilst you could hear the aforementioned - as well as obvious others from the cock-rock / punk pantheon - influencing some part of every song, their ability to balance the music they love with a completely contemporary creativity gave us an all-too-short glimpse of a new band capable of delivering tracks that one day have every chance of becoming ?rock classics? in their own right. Take the new single, ?On A Noose? - riffs galore, sing-a-long chorus, and the kind of drumbeat that just makes you want to stomp around like a lunatic Mick Jagger; or put simply, the most rock and roll song I?ve heard in ages!
So we?ve talked about the image and the music, but to make a gig special you have to be able to deliver both of them. To do that, at the very least you need a great frontman. Towers of London have five of them, providing a non-stop - albeit alcohol-fuelled - onslaught of mass guitar poses; spitting at the crowd (classic!); playing solos axe-behind-head; using the bar as a catwalk; randomly mouthing obscenities at individuals in the audience; swinging off the speaker stacks; chucking cans of lager at anyone unlucky enough to be in the firing line; dropping drumsticks to go and stage-dive mid-song (then nonchalantly returning to continue where you left off); band-member names like Tommy Brunette, Donny Tourette and Snell; the strutting; the prancing; the constant energy; the pure ego; the pure arrogance?
Sometimes you?re lucky enough to watch a gig you dare not take your eyes off in case you miss something. It?s not often you get to do it in your own home town.
Reviewed by Steve Norman