John Paul, we might as well say it first off, sounds a lot like Sleaford Mods. This is not going to come as a shock to him, or them. Standing there on his own, spitting lines out, like some sink estate beat poet, his attack is somewhat more nuanced, perhaps. “Glasshouse Street” has a key line at its heart. “I am the hybrid” offers the Nottingham man, “of every genre you hate” – and this is never supposed to be easy listening. Later, on the bedroom soul of “This Is England” his mission statement, almost, appears. “There’s different sides to all the stories and you look like a c**t in all of them…..” and its last line. “It’s so and so’s fault. No duck, it’s you….” Is a cracker too. “Reset (All The Rest)” is almost maudlin, balladic, if you like, and if he’s similar to at least one of the bands here, then the echoed refrain of “same as all the rest” which is repeated, doesn’t apply. John Paul is the same as no one.
It’s Manchester three piece, Liines’ first time in Brum tonight and to be fair to them, they just look genuinely pleased to be out of the house. A youthful exuberance permeates through their post punk flavoured thirty minutes. With last years debut record “Start- Stop” still gaining rave reviews, there is a confidence about material like “Shallow” and “Find Something” which suggests that you might be hearing a lot more from them in the coming years. Between them Zoe McVeigh, who powerfully conveys these tunes, both with her voice and her angular guitar lines, and the rhythm section of bassist Tamsin Middleton and drummer Laura O’Sullivan create a concoction that recalls Gang Of Four, maybe, a bit of Therapy? too. “Never Wanted This” does something a little primal, while “Never There” rather just cements what was obvious throughout: Liines are impressive and can more than hold their own in any company they keep.
Towards the end of their set, Sleaford Mods play “Just Like We Do”. A song that takes apart those who believe a band that has success is somehow less important than a band who has made it. We all know the type. The “oh I only liked their early b-sides” sort of person. Sleaford Mods do too. “you and your mates are experts, you get on my fucking tits…..”
They probably have fans like that too. The trouble is, Sleaford Mods don’t belong to anyone. Just themselves. By any definition of the word, though, Sleaford Mods are incredible. These songs should not resonate with as many people as they do (“last time we came here there weren’t many on the balcony” smiles Jason Williamson “there is tonight”) but they do. The punks, the rockers, the kids, the lads who look like they’ve wandered in from a rave and will wander back there after, they’re all here.
And they’re here because Sleaford Mods deliver songs that are for everyone in here. Its like this. If Frank Turner and his mates knew Prufrock before he was famous (as the Turner song title goes) then Sleaford Mods knew Becky from the checkout at Lidl before her kid got pregnant and she had to leave with stress.
The point I am making is that no one, really, articulates modern working class life better than this, right here. And nothing sums that up better than the genuine and palpable hatred with which Williamson delivers the chorus “Who knew they got the experts in?” in the brilliant “Kebab Spider.” The message is clear. We’ll sort ourselves, cheers.
Half the set is made up of new songs from “Eton Alive”, released last month. Each has their own distinction. “Flipside” for example is a full on dance track, but it is delivered in a punk rock way. Even when Williamson sings, he spits the lyrics, there is a real bile here occasionally, and yet, his dad dancing is right up there as the worst – and completely without self-consciousness – you’ll ever see.
“Eton Alive” is a wonderful record, and the songs they play from it prove that, but the other stuff they play is unmistakably. “Stick In A Five And A Go” is shouted out and make no mistake about this Williamson is an expansive performer. The other song they play from last years EP “Bang Someone Out” is catchy as you like.
“Jolly Fucker” is delivered with contempt for any sort of jollity, if you are the sort of person who has a “you don’t have to be mad to work here, but it helps” picture on your desk, then Sleaford Mods hate you. I do as well to be clear.
“Big Burt” is the highlight it is on the record, after which there is a four track encore, including “Jobseeker”, “Tied Up In Nottz” and “…..Alive” soon to be favourite, “Discourse”.
After which Williamson flounces – that’s the only word for it – off, and Fearn takes a picture of the crowd, packs his laptop up and smiles. Gigs aren’t meant to end like this. Entertainment isn’t meant to be like this. We’re in a new realm.
Sleaford Mods are on stage for just over an hour. They play 18 songs in that time. Those are the facts. Everything else is subjective: that said, Sleaford Mods are one of a kind. That we can probably all agree on.
