There are a few reasons why tonight is a big night for Lowlives. For one, drummer Luke Johnson is a proud Brummie. For another, it’s the last night of this run. But then, singer Lee Downer drops this: “It’s an honour to be here with Alkaline Trio,” he says. “I love that band. I played their music at my wedding, man!”
That debt shows in their sound, too. Back in May, Lowlives (“We don’t even know where we’re from anymore,” jokes Downer. “We’re two Brits and two Yanks.”) released a record that Yours Truly described as the “best debut in years.” Listening to its title track open the show does nothing to alter this opinion.
“Liar” is a beautiful example of the raw, yet melodic feel of their music. When you mix that together with the self-deprecating “I Don’t Like You,” which Downer describes as the “dumbest song you’ll hear tonight,” it makes quite a recipe.
Afforded 40 minutes, Lowlives get to breathe—metaphorically, given how hot it is in here tonight—and songs like “Swan Dive” have their eyes on headlining places like this in the future.
“Loser,” a real highlight in their catalogue, is here too. And “Hate Greed, Liars, and Thieves” (that’s all the Tory party covered, to be fair) ends a set that tells MV we were right all along. Downer and Jackson have both had their tales to tell in the music industry but have found themselves here. Lowlives by name, aim high by nature.
By the time Alkaline Trio arrive, two things are going hand in hand. Birmingham is ready, my goodness. But also, it is, to borrow the name of a Bon Jovi record, about 7800 Degrees.
That doesn’t stop Matt Skiba and Dan Andriano from being better dressed than MV would be at a wedding. Something like Punk Rock Reservoir Dogs, but it all ties into their aura as a thinking person’s punk band.
Full of clever puns and wordplay like the opener “Hot For Preacher,” a track from their most recent record, “Blood, Hair, and Eyeballs.”
Their first album in six years is as much the excuse they need to be back playing music too, and there are few bands who can find a chorus like these three can.
If you need a window into this world, then try this: Matt Skiba tells the crowd it is great to see them, then suggests they join in. “This one’s called ‘Mr. Chainsaw.'” Well, quite.
It’s a packed 80 minutes. One with no excess fat, no solos, no daft singalongs, and “forced fun” instead, just one song after the other. And they keep coming.
What Andriano calls “a love song,” “1000 Stories” is a highlight, as is “Calling All Skeletons,” but the band themselves reckon that “Break” is the best they’ve ever played it—indeed, they claim that the show as a whole is among the best they’ve played.
“Mercy Man” is a brilliantly catchy thing, while “Warbrain” is dedicated to the support band.
Indeed, everywhere you search, there’s something good—like the title track of the 2024 album or “Stupid Kid”—but there are no frills. Absolutely none at all.
Even the end of “Time To Waste” doesn’t feel like a crescendo; instead, Skiba rolls the setlist into a ball, throws it into the balcony, and is soon back doing it again for the superb encore of “Radio.”
After that, they are gone, and it reinforces a belief that I’ve had for decades, namely this: there are only a few ways to be at the top for 30 years. Gimmicks and huge hits are not on the agenda here, so with Alkaline Trio, it’s predictably simple: great songs that connect—and lots of them, really well played. Thinking man’s punk rock seems far-fetched enough to me.
