Review: The Saints, Thekla

Rita Lynch may well be a local legend but she’s not resting on her laurels. There’s new LP Anti-Social out now and she also delivered a spiky support set for the Saints at their Thekla gig. Forget the lazy comparisons with other artists – they don’t serve a constructive purpose, instead focus on what the crowd got on the night. Short, sharp songs, refreshingly free of solos, delivered with passion, verve and commitment.

John Langley propelled the tunes with a Mortorik beat with echoes of Budgie (er, the Banshees drummer not the under-valued Welsh metal trio), whilst Mike Youe anchored the tunes with some muscular melodic runs. He also joined the crowd at one stage, much to the delight of the punters. The set was great; the only constructive criticism being song title announcements for the newbies amongst the crowd. Go and see her at your next opportunity.

The Saints – currently a three piece featuring Chris Bailey, Barrington Francis, Peter Wilkinson on respectively vox / bass, guitar and drums – delivered a set of material from their 40 year plus career with vim and vigour. Bailey, vocals still strong, proved an affable front man, often wandering off-mike to deliver hugely engaging banter with the crowd, as well as bass runs that seemed more like rhythm or lead guitar in content.

Francis is an understated player, so delivered some lovely melodic playing & solid riffs, which meant his ego free solos really stood out from the usual shred merchants. Wilkinson worked up a tremendous sweat providing a foundation for the songs – to such an extent that he bust his bass pedal a coupla songs in…resulting in a request to “…Rita for a drum beater for Peter…” cue hilarity.

The Saints have a tremendous catalogue to draw from: if your knowledge of the band starts and stops with (I’m) Stranded and Perfect Day, then grab some new stuff and grab a ticket for the next show, you’ll be more than satisfied.

New wave is probably an adequate starting point to describe the material – the original band was never quite the thrash and burn three chord wonders so beloved of the revisionist curators of ’76 / ’77, and live they sucker you in with melodies and a sweet sound before punching you in the face with a stinging solo and biting lyric.

If there were any justice in the world they would be selling out the Albert Hall but then I guess they’ve not got fashion police approval and haven’t been name dropped by the right bands. Bitter, moi? No – frustrated that a great under rated band isn’t reaching an audience of thousands who would enjoy their music. But you can ease that frustration, I repeat, buy their recordings and go and see ‘em. They will ease your frustrations too and leave you in a better place.