Cold Specks isn’t a band, it’s a one
woman Canadian soul-fest and I would be telling
you all about how captivating she was live if
I wasn’t busy trudging through the fresher
filled streets of Manchester. Okay, so I was having
a drink at a vaguely pretentious bar, I’m
kicking myself now. The bar staff tell me she
was fabulous and if Soundcloud is anything to
go by then those well-educated individuals know
what they’re talking about.
Though I may not have been there to witness it,
it’s a bloody good job someone was fabulous
on this dreary Tuesday because Howling Bells were
frankly a little dull, coasting on their post-Coldplay
success, which was all the way back in 2009.
As a promotional tour for their new record The
Loudest Engine they kicked off with album opener
‘Charlatan’ which opens the festivities
in the most subdued way possible as the band tilt
tiresomely while playing a song that seems redundant
even before it’s over. ‘Blessed Night’
with a chorus you can wail along to picks things
up slightly, but the rather mixed crowd of dads
and the silent indie types just don’t seem
to be in to it, in fact the only people who appeared
to be enjoying it were the photographers catching
drum sticks down the front.
Clearly realising that Radio Wars wasn’t
worth its weight in air-time the band only featured
one song from the record instead focusing on new
material with a few old ‘hits’ thrown
in for good measure. ‘Setting Sun’,
‘A Ballad For The Broken Hearts’ and
‘Broken Bones’ being the only three
songs left in the set not to be new material.
The former with its spangly guitars and almost
epic chorus is one of the most interesting songs
played and lets the guitarists show off a bit
while Juanita (vocals) can throw some shapes on
stage; she appears to just be stretching for an
hour and a half, probably jet-lag.
It might seem harsh to rip into a decent enough
band and their sound translates live exactly as
it does on record, it’s flush and full of
the same studio perfect sound you get through
your stereo, but when you aren’t all that
exciting and you aren’t captivating it’s
just not enough. Not only did the audience look
bored, but the band just seemed to be going through
the motions. Barely a word was uttered other than
to tell us that Manchester is their favourite
destination and, “We’re so glad to
be ending our tour here,” and about how
Joel wrote ‘Sioux’ about a woman they
met on a train travelling through America; remember
when anecdotes were fun? Me either because all
the life has been drained out of this room over
a period of what seems like months, but is in
fact only minutes. The only moment of humanity
came when before the encore Juanita truthfully
said, “Sorry we would have been back sooner,
but our drummer had to take a piss,” that’s
the sort of banter we want from the woman Gigwise
once named “the sexiest woman in rock.”
Howling Bells have some good songs like ‘The
Faith’, but then they also have songs like
‘Gold Sons, White Guns’ which on Tuesday
night had Kate Bush turning in her ornate bed
and me wishing I’d finished that disgusting,
worse than at a festival, pint of piss I had in
my hand only ten minutes ago. A quick trip to
the bar sorted everything out.
There are bands like Coldplay who know how to
entertain massive arenas of people with a cheap
set of fireworks and some swanky piano based power-pop
and there are bands like Howling Bells who will
forever be supporting the Coldplay’s of
the world. You get the feeling Howling Bells won’t
be happy with this, but then what do they expect
when they don’t put any effort into their
performance?
Howling Bells 3/5
Review By Lauren Mullineaux
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