Review: Sabres of Paradise, Strange Brew: ‘It was always going to be emotional’

It was always going to be emotional. When an influential band reforms 30 years on, people take notice. When that group split after two albums – very different from each other, but both classics – it’s obvious that the setlist is going to be strong. London trio Sabres of Paradise did just that, quitting at the peak of their powers after one headline tour and a handful of other shows. Talk about leaving them wanting more.

Factor in the untimely death of their figurehead Lord Sabre – aka revered producer and rave culture polymath Andrew Weatherall – and it’s hardly surprising there are no tickets left. Co-founders Jagz Kooner and Gary Burns conceived this tour partly in tribute to their fallen comrade, whose sudden passing five years ago led to a vast outpouring of emotion, tall tales and a distinctly Sabre-esque homage from Daniel Avery.

Burns (synths) and Kooner (mixing desk) are joined at Strange Brew by drummer Rich Thair (Red Snapper), guitarist Phil Mossman (LCD Soundsystem) and bassist Nick Abnett (The Aloof). That’s five of the six Sabres who toured on the back of Haunted Dancehall, which makes Weatherall’s absence all the more poignant.

Suited and booted, two of them wearing pork pie hats, they stride on to the doleful strains of Dancehall‘s title track before launching into another track from the album. Tow Truck is a trip hop-ish cop show theme with chunky breaks, organ and Duane Eddy guitar. Theme follows, its ominous horns and whacked out electronic beats laced with echoey percussion and spidery wah-wah. An early highlight is Duke of Earlsfield., more dynamic than on the record thanks to Abnett’s muscular bass playing, which dominates heavy passages that verge on the industrial.

Wilmot – the Sabres’ ridiculously infectious calypso-dub-skank anthem – is perfect, and I start to worry that the band have the Haunted Dancehall sound so nailed that their earlier, more synthetic music might fall flat in comparison. This fear is immediately dispelled by the beatless mix of Smokebelch II, the greatest Ibiza chillout tune of them all. Its airy, bittersweet melodies are sensitively recreated on guitar and synth, washed over with gentle, island-lapping waves of cymbal. Anyone whose eyes have failed to moisten by now is an Oasis fan.

From that moment, the band lean into the dubby, dystopian techno that made their name, with The Ballad of Nicky Maguire leading into a trio of cuts from the peerless Sabresonic. Through Clock Factory, Ano Electro and Still Fighting, the energy ramps up from a Blade Runner chug to the percussive onslaught of an acid house all-nighter. The lights seem brighter, limbs are thrown in all directions, people smile at strangers.

And then we’re done, except for a blistering encore which recreates both the original version of Smokebelch II and its harder edged David Holmes remix. This goes on for a good 15 – 20 minutes and nobody in the crowd wants it to end. Gusts of applause greet each hook as it comes into focus. Few of us got to see the Sabres of Paradise during their first run, and now we know what we missed. Let’s hope they stick around for a while this time.

All images: Adam Burrows

Read next:

• Review: CMAT, O2 Academy – ‘A masterclass in artistry’
• Review: The Soft Machine, Jam Jar: “Much more than mere nostalgia”
• Review: Gary Numan, Bristol Beacon – ‘Remains one of electronic music’s most restless innovators’
• Review: Autechre / Mark Broom, The Prospect Building – ‘exhilaration, paranoia and occasional dancing’
• Review: A Guy Called Gerald & the Jungle Drummer, Strange Brew – ‘Still in the vanguard of breakbeat science’