Music > Live Reviews

Phil Campbell & The Bastard Sons - King Creature

EPIC Studios

05/11/19

Can it really be four years since Ian Kilmister passed away? Lemmy cast such a long shadow that it’s easy to forget that Phil Campbell played alongside him in Motorhead for close to thirty years. Lesser men might have been tempted to keep the band name alive, so full credit to him for instead ploughing his own furrow. Nonetheless, it was with some trepidation that I went along to see him play with his Bastard Sons, and I desperately wanted to like what I found.  What a pleasure it is, therefore, to report what a great band they are, and what a great evening I had in their company.

In support was King Creature - a name formulated, I would suggest, in preparation for greater things to come. They certainly carried themselves in the spirit of expectation. Yes, they seemed to be saying from the outset, we know we are technically the support band, but that’s just for now. In doing so, they trod a fine line between self-confidence and arrogance, but they did pull off an impressive half-hour set. Dave Kellaway has a fine voice which harmonises well with guitarist Matt Vincent, and while I found Jack Basset’s drumming a little pedestrian, the whole band demonstrated considerable musical talent. I had been told by someone who knows about such things that they were very heavy, melody-free death metal (he meant this as a compliment, by the way). It’s not what I heard so I can only assume they have changed direction. There were hints of Paul Di'Anno era Maiden in Desolation, Fortune Teller reminded me of Nickelback, while Falling Down brought to mind NWOBHM stalwarts Trepass. It made for a quirky, but entertaining, cocktail of sounds. What impressed me most, however, was their commitment to doing a proper job of support – something so many bands forget – warming up an audience that had only been let in ten minutes earlier. Attempting a sing-along three tunes in, particularly when it was obviously unfamiliar to a still growing crowd, was an embarrassing tumbleweed moment, but the only misstep. By the end of their tenure the auditorium was filled with appreciative applause.
 
Phil Campbell’s band carried on where King Creature left off, which was worrying too much about it being a Sunday night. From where I was standing no one seemed too concerned about getting to work in the morning, content to enjoy the band rattling through a judicious mix of covers and originals. This was a cleverly curated set, with Campbell’s solo work mixed in with new material, and then buttressed by some classic Motorhead numbers. Playing the Ramone’s Rockaway Beach immediately before Lemmy’s tribute was a witty masterstroke, as was kicking off the night with Deep Purples Highway Star. The band’s own material stood up remarkably well in such august company with Freak Show and Dark Days sitting comfortably alongside Born to Raise Hell and Rock Out. Lead singer Neil Starr worked the crowd tirelessly and did a brilliant job of getting everyone to clap, jump, punch the air and even sing along competitively, having split the crowd into two halves. Campbell, meanwhile, was content to stay stage left, nonchalantly staying out the limelight as he coolly strummed away, a wry smile fixed upon his face.
 

He, along with the Bastard Sons, Todd (guitar), Dane (drums) and Tyla (bass), ably demonstrated the secret of a great gig, which is to have as much fun on stage as the crowd is having off, and then have that energy feed back and forth. Todd went to huge trouble (three goes) to get one of his guitar pics to a little lad he spotted in the audience, to the boy’s (and his Dad’s) evident delight. Constantly surprising your audience is a good move too. When the instantly recognisable opening notes of Hawkwind’s Silver Machine blasted out unannounced, it was silly grins all round and garnered one the biggest crowd reactions yet. The conundrum of how to follow that was quickly solved with Lemmy’s other finest moment, the unimpeachable Ace of Spades, which Campbell generously dedicated to everyone who has ever been in Motorhead.
 
After playing  back-to-back two of the greatest songs ever written, it says much for the strength of the band’s own material than finishing on Ringleader didn’t feel like an anti-climax, though that might have been because Starr had already cunningly teed us up for a chunky encore.
“Do you want more Motorhead?” he bellowed.
Frankly the answer to that question was always going to be – yes – and it was, of course, a treat to finish off the night with Killed by Death, but I’d have been just as happy to hear more from the Bastard Sons. It’s hard to imagine higher praise than that.