Review: The Bug Club, Thekla – ‘Refreshingly lo-fi tongue-in-cheek rock’n’roll’

Have u ever been 2 Wales?

If not, Monmouthshire’s own Bug Club would assure you in their latest release, “it’s good”. But they won’t be passing on this particular nugget tonight because, they tell a sold out Thekla crowd, they aren’t actually able to gig their new single. “It’s too hard,” reveals bass player and vocalist Tilly Harris. “It sucks live.”

Luckily this is a band built on aphorisms: “nothing rhymes with marriage – except garage”; “everybody thinks they look abit like James Bond”; “it doesn’t have to make sense you know – it’s art.”

They sing about pain and death, haircuts and Lonsdale slip-ons, quality pints, clapping in time, and playing their guitars really loud (no quibbles here – if in doubt, see the great Gina Birch).

Label Sub Pop say the band has released ‘ten singles, two albums, two EPs, three things nobody knew how to describe, and an album under a different band’s name’ since 2021

They cover all the themes, big and small, but with a tongue-in-cheek attitude that pokes fun at overly earnest artists and traditional (see: boring) lyrical subject matter. “This one’s a ripper – so go careful!” they announce at one point; “It’s another rock and roll banger,” and you wonder if that’s just the actual name of the track they launch into.

In other words, The Bug Club are silly. And they get away with it. In fact, it’s probably why they are so loved. Their ever-expanding catalogue and energetic live shows have been embraced so wholeheartedly by fans since they broke through in 2021 that the pleasingly eclectic Sub Pop signed them last year.

Guitarist Sam Wilmett plays sans pedals

The band’s lo-fi brand of rock’n’roll psych is refreshingly no frills, combining an old school approach that harks back to a ‘simpler time’ before backing tracks, monstrous pedalboards and over-produced pop, with a playful post-ironic honesty welcomed by a younger crowd. What you see is what you get – and what you don’t see is a single guitar pedal. Unheard of.

Bass player and vocalist Tilly Harris accidentally announces the Bug Club are playing End of the Road: “Was I allowed to say that?!”

With the Bug Club it’s not really a case of what they play: there’s no one ‘hit’ that sticks out tonight in terms of crowd reaction.

It’s more the consistently relaxed vibe, the strutting bass, drummer (and producer) Dan Matthew bathed in golden light smashing out his first of several attention-grabbing solos of the night. Their nostalgic close harmonies, the wild guitar breaks delivered pigeon-toed as Sam Willmet crabs across the stage, a harmonica squawked experimentally directly into his guitar pick-up.

It’s their endearing humour-led no-fucks-given approach summed up by We Don’t Care About That: “stop talking, shhhhhhh-shut up!”

Drummer Dan Matthew locks in like his life depends on it; he also produces all the band’s tracks

It might be a head-nodding crowd in tonight, but in the right setting this friendly trio could easily whip a crowd up to frenzy point.

Final track Rare Birds (before they rebound for a high-spirited encore) combines various species and their Latin names intoned over birdsong interspersed with crushing, heavier-than-thou rock-outs that give the gang a proper chance to thrash it out after a relentless 90-minute show.

Willmet plays a harmonica through his guitar pick-up

The crowd seems content to look on, vicariously revelling in the good time had onstage rather than participating. There’s a degree of separation, like watching a band in a zoo instead of enjoying a playfight with your own dog.

Whatever, Bug Club doubtless don’t care about that: they’re having far too much fun simply doing their thing.

All images: Simon Alexander

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