Band:
The Hives Venue:
Brixton Academy, London, UK Date:
-- ---- 2002
THE HIVES have had a slew of excellent support bands, from The
International Noise Conspiracy to the Sahara Hotnights and tonight is no
exception.
With support from the likes of up and coming funk punk all stars The
Bellrays, the buff medways (guitar and vocals courtesy of the infamous
Billy Childish) and seventies wannabes soundtrack of our lives, there's no
way you can mess up the warm up.
After a hefty (almost) 30 minute wait, The Hives prove they could do this
on their own, with their Stooges meets Link Wray sound-assault there is no
way you could deny these ten-year primed live-act veteran boys pedestal.
When they were sixteen years old they started a band. They swallowed every
piece of Rock N' Roll that came their way in the unlikely small town
Fagersta, Sweden, and it started to ooze out of of them and into their
amps.
They still play live tracks they wrote back when (A.K.A. I.D.I.O.T.) and
for me all of it sounds like 50's and 80's eras that I missed, with all
the innovation, intelligence, pouting sex and cataclysmic joy that it once
embodied.
When my favourite bands were around and touring, I wasn't even barely
legal. My vicious comes when I was a teenager, growing up with Nirvana and
Smashing Pumpkins, the only band still going that I liked.
I never thought I'd see The Cramps, Dead Kennedys or The Ventures. I never
thought I'd experience the ripped raw sound that came with these bands.
But, tonight, I've found my new favourite band. These suited and booted
Swedish uberstars are the flesh and bone of a fantastic era of music that
I thought was a corpse.
Revived onstage under a Las Vegas-esque sign of the bands name in
showgirl-bulbs, they strut like black and white grinning peacocks, eyes
wide and arms stretched open to take in the adulation of their fans.
The circus that is The Hives is nothing less than a grand exaltant show
that gives back every penny you spent on the ticket.
Their main single, as y'all gotta know by now, the theme to Kyle's panties
ad, and on every self-respecting radio stations' playlist; MAIN OFFENDER,
wrenched an abrupt unanimous roar from the crowd the moment it passed the
luscious lips of lead singer Howlin' Pelle Almqvist in his obligatory
introduction (every song had a playful, haughty, breathlessly hoarse intro
and every band member had several).
The surprise though, was that every single song was met with absolute
manic madness. "Here we go again" had every mouth open, screaming
hysterically, ecstatic with gymnastic abilities of Almqvist and lead
guitar (and brother to Pelle), Nichaulas Arson, two deranged ballerinas in
black suits, holding nothing back in a display of obvious, joyous punk
oblivion.
"Die! Alright!" almost got me a trip to the medical room as I was thrust
and held breasts hanging over the side, ribs at braking point, against the
metal security rail.
Thrust and held by the crazy gibbering cross section of every class and
clique in London, trying their utmost to get nearer to these kick meisters
on stage.
The three or four times Almqvist jumped off the stage and stepped up to
the barriers, a thousand hands threw themselves out of the crowd to
manhandle this vibrating maelstrom of Howlin' song. Mine right along with
them.
At "Hail! Hail! Spit & Drool" I almost garrotted someone behind me as I
lost all self control and thrashed about like an AWOL washing machine
while staring unblinking at Pelle who flung himself to the floor and back
up again while simultaneously catching his microphone stand with his foot,
all this while still performing, never breaking a note.
So raise your black and white pom poms and cheer!!! For my new favourite
band and yours.
Maybe you'll get one of their ties of guitars as they throw them into the
crowd. Maybe security won't take them off you.
As Almqvist says ... 'This is for us, this is for fun, this is for you!'.
