written by Chris Familton

There was a fair amount of anticipation about the return of Swervedriver to these shores – in terms of whether they would live up to the expectation of those who revered the albums but had never seen them live, mixed with a small dose of skepticism about reforming bands trading on past glories. Albums like Raise and Mezcal Head are held up as totemic bodies of work in the shoegaze and modern psych rock worlds and widely considered one of those bands that never garnered the fame their music deserved.

A new generation of musicians exploring similar sonic territory were up first in the shape of The Laurels who are demanding a wider audience every time they play. The great thing about them is their refusal to oversimplify their songs in the name of greater accessibility to the ears of the public. Their songs are soaked in melodies and hooky choruses but for the most part they are buried beneath the washes of distortion and tremolo bar wooziness but firmly held together by their fantastic rhythm section. Dreamy noise can sound incredible when it is anchored by solid rhythms and there were no doubt many first time Laurelites who went away buzzed out by their music. They showed no sign of nervousness supporting a band that must be an influence on them, instead they showed they can do it just as well.

From the kids to the longer-toothed, it was Tumbleweed who got to bring some rock to the Metro stage with a typically bold set of stoner rock. They showed flashes of shambolic excitement like singer Richie falling backwards from the monitors and into the drum kit. It was hilarious but also showed, literally, how much they throw into their shows. Since the early 90s (with a break of a few years) they’ve been delivering their brand of MC5, Mudhoney and Sabbath rock with an energy that makes it still sounds vibrant. They played like they were the headliners – a lesson for all support bands.

Swervedriver on the other hand played like they were desperate to get back to the hotel to bed. It didn’t help that for the first third of their set the sound was woeful. It wasn’t loud enough, the drums were mixed like they were playing a stadium and any distinction between the guitars of Adam Franklin and Jimmy Hartridge was inaudible. When you get the guitar mix wrong with music  like this then it is never going to sound good. Things finally did improve and when the band hit songs like Raise’s Rave Down, Son Of Mustang Ford and a mesmerizing version of Deep Seat, reminding us how brilliant the songs were that the band wrote at their peak.

The flip-side of those golden moments was a fair amount of average songs that littered their set. Songs that resorted to chugging guitars or a lack of the dynamics and changes of gears that make them such an interesting band. Those less impressive moments only served to highlight the distinct lack of personality the band members exude on stage. Stationary, unsmiling for the most part and little more than the occasional ‘thanks’ were all that they could muster. For music that is built on rushes of energy and atmospheric guitar playing most would expect and surely demand a more visceral experience.

When Swervedriver were great they were exhilarating but those moments were few and far between, leaving a taste of disappointment in the air for some. After an epic Never Lose That Feeling/Never Learn Duress many of the crowd persevered with calls for a 2nd encore but any return to the stage would have done nothing to erase that feeling that the show didn’t live up to expectations.

this review first appeared on FasterLouder