The Brian Jonestown MassacreRaven-haired duo The KVB grace the stage, unaware of the growing crowd, as they plug in all the trimmings and launch into an unexpectedly well rounded set. Their sound is post-punk, post-rock… post-drummer? Kat Day on keys mans the structure of percussion and the ethereal reverbs that engulf the audience, dispersed by the wailing guitars of Nicholas Wood. Often edging on the side of same-ish, the set maintains its impact by invention and alternative creativity; intricate drum loops and unexpected synth patterns cut through the drone, and audience members find themselves dancing to songs which didn't necessarily call for toe-tapping, yet cannot be denied.
There's enough time to brave the bar line and get back amongst a swelling crowd in time for The Brian Jonestown Massacre. The eight-piece trickles on stage amidst howling fanfare, and already desperate song requests and cheers of admiration are hurled towards the stage, while the band has yet to don their guitars. They prefer to leave the pleasantries up to the songs, the crowd howling with new intensity as Whoever You Are, Got My Eye On You and the beloved Anemone open proceedings, gig-goers young and old visibly reverberating with contagious excitement. From these opening tracks it's more than evident that this is a well versed set, one which is full of live gems and pieced together with the long-term fan in mind… that is, in conjunction with the band's own love of these choice tunes, as they clearly revel in the cheers that stretch the length of their relatively concise set. Days, Weeks And Moths; Wisdom; the harmonic gem that is Sailor; and the stripped Open Heart Surgery give the audience the best of their psychedelic pleasantries, slowing down the set and focussing on the fine craftsmanship that has gone into many years worth of songwriting. Old-fashioned rock, not in any outdated sense but the timelessness of composition, are what BJM are known for, and it's a true and understated treat to see the best sonic gems from some of the greats of kaleidoscopic stomps and slow jams. Not If You Were The Last Dandy On Earth feels like a special shout-out to the true fan, as a not-so-gentle reminder of the famous feud between them and The Dandy Warhols, as well as how they're able to bring the volume on selfish requests, serving those final punches with exhilarating power. Varied and controlled, BJM leave fans wanting more, yet satisfied to have seen a stellar performance that easily meets all prior expectations.
