From the moment guitarist and joint frontperson Robin Davey asks, “How many of you have seen us before?” it’s clear this won’t be an ordinary night. He knows it, the audience knows it, and if you didn’t before, you soon will. “Ahhh good, you know what you’re in for…,” he grins, conspiratorially.
The truth is, no two Beaux Gris Gris & The Apocalypse shows are ever the same. Tonight’s performance, for instance, is loosely food-themed by dint of the setlist scribbled on a plate—because why not?
They are light, they are shade. “Bungalow Paradise”, is slinky and soulful, before launching into “Trouble is Coming”, a wonderfully bluesy warning of the storm ahead. BGGATA don’t just play songs; they live in them. There’s a free-flowing, near-jam-band spirit to their set, and in Robin Davey, they have a guitarist of rare talent—effortlessly sliding between swampy blues, classic rock, and Cajun-infused licks.
And then there’s Greta Valenti. If you’re not already entranced, listen to her sing “The Runaway”, then watch it explode into something primal. She commands the stage with a mix of raw power and intimate storytelling.
The night takes an unexpected turn with an acoustic section, played on what Davey jokingly calls “the worst acoustic guitar ever made.” Yet, it hardly matters—”Harder to Breathe” is fragile and gorgeous, while their take on Dire Straits’ “Romeo and Juliet” doesn’t just do it justice; it owns it. A tough feat, but they pull it off effortlessly, capturing the song’s ragged, late-night, barroom melancholy.
BGGATA are a band of rich contrasts. One moment, they’re delivering a searing, politically charged cover of “Oval Room” (“he’s the president, but I don’t care” never felt so urgent); the next, they’re revelling in their Cajun-blues heritage with “Louisiana Good Ride”, dripping in hot sauce. Then, just as seamlessly, they shift gears again, with “Baby Baby,” a delicate, keys-led ballad showcasing another side of the band
The energy reaches new heights when guest guitarist Russ Evans joins them for “Gris Gris”. It’s moments like this that transport you—you feel like you’re in a backstreet bar in New Orleans, where every band is this good and every night is this wild. “I Told My Baby” only reinforces the fantasy.
But this isn’t just a nostalgia trip; BGGATA distil rock ‘n’ roll down to its purest essence. “Oh Yeah is a swaggering, groove-laden beast, thick as Clutch but loose as a jam session, setting up the relentless force of “Satisfy Your Queen”. And when Valenti takes the performance offstage—strutting through the crowd, working the room like a preacher in a house of sin—you believe every note.
If you have any doubts about their raw, untamed energy, “Wild Woman” erases them. Valenti climbs onto a table—your humble scribe’s table, no less—roaring the lyrics on high. If you weren’t paying attention (like MV wasn’t….!) you are now.
The closing stretch refuses to let up. “Fill Me Up” keeps the adrenaline flowing, before Evans returns for a soaring, soulful take on “Don’t Let the Bastards Get You Down”. His and Davey’s soloing alone is worth the price of admission. Then, in true Beaux Gris Gris fashion, they seemingly decide on a cover of “Blue Bayou” on the spot, before finally closing the night with QOTSA’s “Make It Wit Chu”—a left-field choice, but somehow the perfectly in keeping.
On one it is hard to sum up a two-hour show that feels like a fever dream of texture, colour and sound. But maybe, just maybe, it’s best left in their own words:
“Everybody wants a little Gris Gris.”
And if they don’t, they damn well should.
Pictures: KEITH TRACY
