MV happens to look around when Y & T play “Mean Streak,” and where I’m seated on the disabled platform, there’s a chap behind me who literally punches the air at its first riff.
The symbolism is clear, but it also works as a reminder of a key fact: the only way you get to celebrate 50 years in rock and roll is to have songs that people feel a connection with.
This show was special to start with, given that it amounts to a golden jubilee for Dave Meniketti, and he and his bandmates are endeavouring to play songs from each of their albums.
But it’s special too because of the warmth in this room that people obviously share for the band.
And that was obvious even before they’d played a note of “Hurricane.” So much so that when they follow it up with “Rock N Roll’s Gonna Save The World,” you almost believe that it might.
The career-spanning nature of this means a dip back to the very early days for “25 Hours,” which Meniketti says was the second song they ever wrote.
And look, there’s an elephant in the room, so we may as well address it. It hits you for the first time when they play “Struck Down”: why isn’t this being played in some big arena where they charge £100? Planet Rock’s Paul Anthony—who introduces them on stage—isn’t the only one who thinks that KK’s is the best venue on the circuit, but the fact remains that Y and T have got it all.
Everything from the harmonies of “Don’t Stop Running” to the UFO-isms of “Midnight In Tokyo” and “Contagious”—surely the best song Bon Jovi never wrote—is utterly sensational.
Of course, the nature of this show, including a song from every album, means there are plenty of rare gems getting an airing, not least “Long Way Down” from their ironically titled 90s album “Musically Incorrect.”
There are some show-stopping moments too. The way “I Believe In You” builds is from rock’s Premier League, and Meniketti’s closing solo alone is worth the price of admission.
The small matter of the hit “Summertime Girls” is tossed in toward the end, and though it might be incongruous in the cool of the Wolves’ autumn, it sounds superb.
What hits you when you watch them play for over two hours is the vast array of styles on show. Perhaps reflecting their half-century, there’s “Black Tiger,” which wouldn’t be out of place on an early Priest album, rubbing shoulders with “Dirty Girl” and all its blues stylings. All are bound, though, by incredible class.
“Rescue Me” soars, but the encore is lengthy too: “Open Fire,” a rapturously received “I’m Coming Home,” and “Forever.” It’s a fitting end.
In his speech as that last trio kicks off, the man who has piloted the band through yesterday, today, and tomorrow, as it were (and of course has had some horrible health struggles recently), reckons that the noise on stage “is just us four guys.”
It sums them up: no gimmicks, no tricks, just brilliant songs.
A masterclass in how to celebrate from one of the finest hard rock bands around, this won’t be far from the gig of the year.
