Sometimes fate plays a hand and sometimes we are grateful it does and today I certainly feel that after its most recent intervention.
I had tickets for a grandiose show at G Live but on Thursday I decided to bin them and grab a ticket for The Sound Lounge and experience organic, direct and real music. Massive kudos to Paul Sexton for having the insight to put together the double bill of The David Sinclair Four and The Autumn Saints. Musically the two quartets were very different but they complimented each other perfectly and we were thus treated to blues, blues rock, Americana and roots rock.
The David Sinclair Four opened the gig and immediately slipped into their bluesy coda. One Pair Of Hands opened out on a stretched groove generated by much respected bass ace Derek White and skins man Simon Jessup. David laid down thick rhythm guitar and Geoff Peel weaved clipped and sharp lead breaks. David sang high on the register.
Bands Of London considerably upped the ante as the quartet threw down the power. Heavy drum and bass patterns lifted the twin guitar salvos and David’s vocal went deeper to stamp his authority on the music.
Slow Blues came in the form of Life Gone Cold built on pulsed drums and bass, split by David and Geoff’s six string interplay and then Geoff took off with an expressive solo and David’s voice was impassioned to evidence the lyrics.
The quartet then became 5 with guest harmonica player and they delivered the coursing blues rocker I’m Waiting. Powerful rhythms pushed on the guitar riffs that in turn took David’s vocals deeper.
To finish the band dived headlong into some good old fashioned rock ‘n’ roll with a rabble rousing version of Chuck Berry’s Bye Bye Johnny.
Super band, super set that ignited the gig.
How the hell have The Autumn Saints not punctured my sphere of awareness before now? Well after last last night right here right now they are my ‘favourite new band.’ From the opening chord of their first song to the fading chords of their deserved encore The Autumn Saints excited me both sonically and visually.
The band just naturally built an intense enveloping vibe and connection with the audience that I found thrilling. If I look for a touchstone for the band’s music I would compare them to The Gaslight Anthem in the early part of their career.
Like Gaslight these guys are a type of a rock band but they possess a Punk/New Wave edge that conveys a statement; ‘We Are The Autumn Saints, this is what we do.’
Britt Strickland is a serious frontman with a powerful presence and he is a great narrator as he also shared snippets of his life and musical template. He plays bass like lead guitar, his strong sonics were ever present. Britt is a gifted lyricist as his words create vivid images that are delivered by an edgy voice that also has soul.
Nick Bennett is a multi instrumentalist and he excelled on rhythm guitar, Hammond, harmonica, harmony vocals and Lap Steel. I love Lap Steel as I love slide guitar.
Then sat at the back drummer Martin Gallagher, diminutive in stature but a giant in his impact as his arms pumped like pistons as they traversed the skins and cymbals.
Finally, lead guitarist Jim Maving, who I was captivated by. I am sure had he wished he could have shredded all night but he didn’t, he sent down a torrent of vivid lead breaks and bludgeoning riffs but he was also adept at plucking and feathering the strings as the songs demanded. Visually the dude is a ‘shapeshifter,’ he constantly adopted the pose from ram rod straight to crouched low to the floor as he carved out the licks. Loose and languid Keith Richards came to mind.
Moving Through The Deep and She Wanders Out revealed the essence of the band, they ebbed and flowed as Britt’s sole of the boots voice dropped over the rhythm section groove and the kaledeoscopic guitar tones.
Show Me How combined marching drums with dirty low bass thrums and hooked up guitar lifted up the dual vocals of Britt and Nick.
Up On The Outside, Down On The Roadside was rammed with dense swirling Hammond laying under some taut guitar work from Jim and Britt flooded out a deeply soulful vocal.
Some scorching Lap Steel searched the room as Jim joined alongside chopping out a series of heavy guage riffs. The drums and bass pumped hard and Britt climbed into another powerful and soul riven vocal.
Josephine evidenced Britt’s exceptional and intuitive songwriting skills as the lyrics depict a humble and skilled man knowing his love of Josephine will always be unrequited and losing to a powerful man. The drums and bass hummed low cushioning Britt’s rich voice while guitar and keys bled into the mix.
I was instantly hooked on Night Train, brooding tunnel deep drum and bass rumbled while Nick traced and caressed the strings of the Lap Steel thus emitting those haunting sounds.
Dust Bowl Year was a fitting way to end the set. An anthemic canvass of sonics, barrelling drums, throbbing bass all lay beneath Jim’s finger picked guitar and Britt flooded out a mournful vocal.
A standing ovation greeted the quartet and seemed to genuinely surprise them but it was so richly deserved.
Of course we got an encore, a double shot that ended with the malevolent and mood laden Soothsayer. This was down in the musical swamp as big fat drums boomed and throbbing bass erupted alongside thick plunging keys and searing slide guitar as Britt delivered his musical sermon.
Britt Strickland, a Preacher but not of religion a Preacher of raw real music.
If you have heard of The Autumn Saints my words may resonate. If you don’t know of them then search them out and jump aboard their train.
–Article and images by Nigel Foster
