Barfly
London, United Kingdom
Show notes
With Winnebago Deal. Part of the “Back to the Bar” week of gigs raising money for War Child and Shelter.
Set list
- Girl From Mars
- Meltdown
- Orpheus
- A Life Less Ordinary
- Evil Eye
- Clones
- Walking Barefoot
- Starcrossed
- Out of the Blue
- Shining Light
- Renegade Cavalcade
- Detonator
- Goldfinger
- On a Wave
- Won’t Be Saved
- Envy
- Vampire Love
Encore
Review
The spotty oiks, sitting on the pavement outside The Monarch sipping Oranjeboom, can’t believe their fucking luck. For out of everyone who entered the charity comp to see Ash, they are some of the lucky 200 who are going to one of the smallest gigs they’ve played in the last ten years. And you can’t help but wish all London shows could be like this; haggard scenesters and record company pond life are almost conspicuous by their absence. The only people inside are fans. And they go fucking psychotic when the pop punk quartet come onstage.
A newly sexed up Tim Wheeler pimp rolls onto stage sporting new facial topiary, meaning he now looks 19 rather than 12. He namechecks War Child and Shelter, the charities who are benefiting from tonight, and strafes straight into “Girl From Mars”. And within seconds there is beer raining from the ceiling. As diamond sharp and radiant as the hits are (“Goldfinger”, “Envy” and“Shining Light”), the real treat is hearing their new album Meltdown in full. Ash’s greatest trick is their ability to keep on mutating slightly with each new album, always staying one step ahead of their fans and critics. And this time they’ve had a stoner/space/alt.rock make over. The title track is all Sonic Youth ’Goo’ bass lines and QOTSA swagger. New single “Clones” is such a curveball you can’t help but wondering if this is the same band that did the honeyed pop of “Candy”, 3 years ago. Its acid wah-wah and space rock drones give way to a guitar solo that is so damn itchy and frenetic, it wouldn’t sound out of place on “Locust Abortion Technician” by The Butthole Surfers. It also goes without saying however, that the chorus instantly burns itself onto your central cortex.
Try as hard as they can to destroy rational tune, though, they can’t hide their automatic gift for pop hooks. If 1977 was Ash at first base, all songs about Star Wars and trying to hold hands with girls, then this is them indulging in really, really, filthy behaviour. The slow and sensuous build up to sex lasted for ten years and didn’t cause any chafing at all. One of the world’s most undervalued pop bands are about to deliver again.