THE QUIREBOYS & BLACKBALLED
It may be a new chapter in Quireboys history but by the gods they still rock.
I approach tonight’s gig with trepidation. The Quireboys were the first band I ever “worked” for, handing out flyers in return for free entry to that night’s gig at the Marquee and a tinny of Red Stripe. I won’t say just how long ago that was but the Marquee was still on Wardour Street and dinosaurs roamed the earth. Whilst my tastes have moved on from the high energy Stones/Faces hybrid rock ‘n’ roll The Quireboys played, I still have huge affection for the band, I’ve seen ‘em countless times down the years and they have never let me down. But tonight is the first time I have seen them without frontman (and last original member) Spike. I won’t go into the internecine politics surrounding Spike’s departure or the fact that he now fronts “Spike’s Quireboys”. I can’t be bothered with that cobblers: as Extreme said, there’s three sides to every story and I won’t pick sides. What I want is an evening of old school, good time, bluesy rock ‘n’ roll. Can the latest iteration of The Quireboys still deliver?
Before that question can be answered, BLACKBALLED warm things up. Blackballed are a new one on me, despite being formed over a decade ago by former New Model Army guitarist Marshall Gill (also taking on vocals), Alex Whitehead on drums and bassist Tom Wibberley. This is ZZ Top-inflected take on heavy, southern-fried, swampy blues rock. Along with the Top, there are hints of Creedence Clearwater Revival and even Motörhead from the sartorially elegant trio. Like a lot of this kinda music, I won’t listen to it much (if at all) at home but by god - done properly - it can be good fun live. And yes I will see Blackballed again if I get the chance.
And so to THE QUIREBOYS. From the opening of I Love This Dirty Town, it is clear that little has changed. OK, there isn’t the sheer drama of Spike’s mic stand manoeuvres threatening to seriously injure if not behead the band, but Guy Griffin’s vox are a revelation. He is a warm and engaging frontman whose between song banter seems to be spontaneous ad-libbing rather than Spike’s well rehearsed (and, after 35+ years, sometimes rather tired) patter. Keysman Keith Weir and lead guitarist Paul Guerin are in fine form, with the latter bringing some fine slide to new song Lie To Me. Bassist Nick Mailing now seems to be a full member of the band, being far more prominent than previously and lays down some great lines whilst newest member Pip Mailing manages to combine the straight-ahead, no frills class of Charlie Watts with the thump of Keith Moon in a way that perfectly suits this band.
The set takes in pretty much the entirety of the band’s career since Griff first joined the band in 1989. As ever, debut LP A Bit Of What You Fancy is heavily represented. Both Roses And Rings and 7 O’Clock being dedicated to QBs founder Guy Bailey who recently passed away. It’s not just that debut, though. Mid-paced slow-burner Gracie B rumbles with evil intent. Rowdy rocker Turn Away has a bit of classic AC/DC about it, 27 Years bears a more than passing resemblance to Thin Lizzy and This Is Rock ‘n’ Roll brings some Slade style glam stomp to the party. It all make me question how Black Star Riders can damned near sell out the LCR a few weeks back whilst Quireboys are playing a less than full Waterfront Studio.
Kudos to a sound guy Bill. Tonight’s show has the dirtiest - and therefore, for me, the best - sound that I have heard at a QBs gig since the early days at the Marquee, back when god were a lad.
The Quireboys don’t break any sonic boundaries. They don’t deliver anything new. What they bring is old school, good time, bluesy rock ‘n’ roll. There are few if any bands around that do this better than The Quireboys and tonight is testament to just how bloody good this stuff can be when it is done this well.
