Supergrass: Live Review

2008-04-16 01:30:07

If life is a cigarette smoked to the end, then Supergrass are the choicest blend of aromatic tobacco vapours, encased in fine diamond-cut paper and hand-rolled on the thighs of Cuban virgins. For the uninitiated, that’s just my way of saying that Supergrass played a shockingly brilliant set at Nottingham Rock City tonight.
    
During the Britpop era, this motley crue of cheeky youngsters typified the upbeat and positive mood of a nation who just wanted a damn good party. With their mad hair, massive sideburns and wild, crazy, running-along-the-beach-without-a-care-in-the-world-type antics, Supergrass were the band of choice for the kids. Who, just for the record, were alright.
    
Blair, The Spice Girls and Oasis
    
Thirteen years on though, things have undoubtedly changed. Tony Blair has been consigned to the dustbin of history, the Spice Girls probably should have been consigned to the dustbin of history and everybody is left scratching their heads wondering exactly how on earth Oasis got to be so huge.
    
In the interim, Supergrass have slowly and rather surprisingly metamorphosed from a trio of cheeky chappies to a five-headed hydra capable of churning out a succession of indie-pop numbers that are right on the money. It’s all presented in a much more sombre fashion than the reckless t-shirts and jeans of the mid-nineties though and this odd solemnity extends to the terribly polite demeanour of the crowd. Dressed in a fetching fedora, black waistcoat and grey trousers, even Gaz Coombes looks sedate tonight. Gaz?! Sedate?! The two words just don’t belong together.
    
Sheer natural talent
    
This appearance belies their talent though. It’s ironic because you might expect a band best known for producing three-minute radio-friendly singles to be dull and formulaic as a live act, but Gaz Coombes, Danny Goffey and Mickey Finn are anything but. They are electric, interspersing the (count ‘em) ninety minute set with chunky basslines, searing guitar riffs and wow-factor drumming. They’re solid and tight, oozing the kind of confidence that only comes from being blessed with a sheer natural talent.
    
An endless succession of feelgood pop hits keeps the crowd alive, just about. You could count the number of crowd surfers on one hand, but that doesn’t mean that we weren’t all having a great time feeling the nostalgic buzz of Pumping On Your Stereo, Moving and Richard III. Ah, the good old days!
    
The song remains the same
    
They don’t look bad either; Finn resembling an aged Michael J Fox, Goffey the spit of Pete Doherty and Coombes, well, looking like an older Gaz. He always was the cool one and even though he’s slightly chubbier round the edges, I doubt this will lose him any admirers. They stroll back on for an encore of the utterly fabulous Lenny and their swansong Caught By The Fuzz. Supergrass may be older, fatter and decidedly less hairy, but thankfully, and thank God above, the songs remain the same.
    
Review: Michelle Dhillon
    
Images: Lisa Mayfield, check it
    

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