My 20 best gigs of 2022
Last year and the preceding Coronavirus-hits-the world-year of 2020 were of course highly messed-up when it came to the humble business of going out to see live music. My (in)famous top 20 gigs lists duly suffered. But this year I think it's fair to say that live music was well and truly back. Normal service more or less resumed. So I was able to scurry hither and thither to soak up some noisy/difficult/non-commerical sounds in scuzzy pubs, in a few rather nice DIY establishments, in one or two record shops and even in the palm-tree'd municipal splendour of the square outside Hackney Town Hall. Anyway, from a much bigger set of gigs I graced with my presence this year (some for less than five minutes because I just wasn't digging it), these are the 20 that stand out. Read on ...
Big Break/Self-immolation Music/Island Of Love: Delicious Clam, Sheffield, 29 January
One show, three good bands. I caught Big Break at DC a few months earlier, but they seemed distinctly better here. Tons of energy from the singer, fierce drumming and, I particularly noticed this time, fantastic lead guitar. What kind of music? Er, hard to say. Noise rock with elements of rap (or something). SIM: a big, colourfully-dressed guy on bass/lead vocals intoning over psych-drone heaviness featuring a layer of electronic effects. Heavy, man. And then Island Of Love, who moved the gig into Dinosaur Jr psych-grunge territory, which was what I’d slogged up the M1 for in the first place. IOL’s very enthusiastic drummer was wearing a classic punk-era black studded belt, which was a fine sight in and of itself. All in all, another Castlegate triumph.
One show, three good bands. I caught Big Break at DC a few months earlier, but they seemed distinctly better here. Tons of energy from the singer, fierce drumming and, I particularly noticed this time, fantastic lead guitar. What kind of music? Er, hard to say. Noise rock with elements of rap (or something). SIM: a big, colourfully-dressed guy on bass/lead vocals intoning over psych-drone heaviness featuring a layer of electronic effects. Heavy, man. And then Island Of Love, who moved the gig into Dinosaur Jr psych-grunge territory, which was what I’d slogged up the M1 for in the first place. IOL’s very enthusiastic drummer was wearing a classic punk-era black studded belt, which was a fine sight in and of itself. All in all, another Castlegate triumph.
Island Of Love: see 'em via your local motorway
The Lotts: Lion Coffee + Records, London, 10 February
I’ve been to many sparsely-attended gigs in my time, but this was something else. Just me and one other punter at a Thursday lunchtime show. Anyway, me and punter no2 soaked up and applauded - and generally pretended to be a real audience for - the Lotts’ blues/psych-inflected garage rock. The drummer was using just a snare (which sounded fine) yet they still belted out their stuff with real energy. A band that can play to an almost-empty space as if it’s a 250-roomer is a band I can dig. They are the Lotts. PS: saw ‘em again in November, this time fully amped-up and sporting some nice rock moves. Definitely R&R dudes.
I’ve been to many sparsely-attended gigs in my time, but this was something else. Just me and one other punter at a Thursday lunchtime show. Anyway, me and punter no2 soaked up and applauded - and generally pretended to be a real audience for - the Lotts’ blues/psych-inflected garage rock. The drummer was using just a snare (which sounded fine) yet they still belted out their stuff with real energy. A band that can play to an almost-empty space as if it’s a 250-roomer is a band I can dig. They are the Lotts. PS: saw ‘em again in November, this time fully amped-up and sporting some nice rock moves. Definitely R&R dudes.
The Tubs: Shacklewell Arms, London, 16 February
I was quickly won over by the Tubs at first exposure a few months earlier, and at this slightly bigger venue they worked just as well. Ramshackle - or at least not “tight” the way bands were always being called - to my ears the Tubs are a winning combo in a “retro” semi-jangle/classic indie-pop vein. When they click, it all comes together: impressively intricate guitar, winsome vocals, little “huhhh” exclamations and corny-but-good “2-3-4s” from the singer. And I repeat: their cover of Felt’s Crystal Ball is enough to bring tears to the eyes of even the most grizzled music fan (me).
The Tubs: fans of Felt
outlookexplorer: Lion Coffee + Records, London, 18 March
I had no idea what to expect with these, so, expensive G&T in hand, I waited distractedly as an unlikely two-piece shambled onto the micro-stage beneath glitter ball lights in this pocket venue (my local). What I got was pleasing electro-pop with elements of Cabaret Voltaire (de-industrialised), touches of A Guy Called Gerald (bloops and beats) and even echoes of Jarvis Cocker in the hushed half-spoken vocals. It all kind of worked. The singer - tall, skinny, loose-limbed - did some entertaining floppy-floaty dancing and kept vapourising the audience with clouds from a foot-operated smoke-machine. The audience - about 25 people - included one guy dancing so energetically you’d think his life depended on it. Maybe it did.
I had no idea what to expect with these, so, expensive G&T in hand, I waited distractedly as an unlikely two-piece shambled onto the micro-stage beneath glitter ball lights in this pocket venue (my local). What I got was pleasing electro-pop with elements of Cabaret Voltaire (de-industrialised), touches of A Guy Called Gerald (bloops and beats) and even echoes of Jarvis Cocker in the hushed half-spoken vocals. It all kind of worked. The singer - tall, skinny, loose-limbed - did some entertaining floppy-floaty dancing and kept vapourising the audience with clouds from a foot-operated smoke-machine. The audience - about 25 people - included one guy dancing so energetically you’d think his life depended on it. Maybe it did.
Anti-police racism demo for Child Q: Hackney Town Hall square, London, 21 March
Not, of course, a gig but I’m including this in my 20 best gigs of the year because of the electric atmosphere generated by mass public anger (from a crowd of about 400) and the solemn tones of the African drum beats which kept up an insistent rhythm throughout, ebbing and flowing according to the mood of the rally. There were incredibly angry speeches and defiant black power salutes. Probably the subtlest and most effective use of music I’ve ever heard at a demo. It was the throbbing beat to an event with one simple message: no police in schools.
Not, of course, a gig but I’m including this in my 20 best gigs of the year because of the electric atmosphere generated by mass public anger (from a crowd of about 400) and the solemn tones of the African drum beats which kept up an insistent rhythm throughout, ebbing and flowing according to the mood of the rally. There were incredibly angry speeches and defiant black power salutes. Probably the subtlest and most effective use of music I’ve ever heard at a demo. It was the throbbing beat to an event with one simple message: no police in schools.
Protest music: the crowd outside Hackney Town Hall
Foulstrand/Great Shame/Plastics: Delicious Clam, Sheffield, 24 March
The spoken-word poet Foulstrand who I saw at the same venue a year or so earlier was again excellent here. Dark fragments of mundanity delivered in a rather brilliant halting manner, while the singer from Sheffield band Big Break (not playing this evening, Covid’d off the bill apparently) noodled some sci-fi sounds from his dinky white electronic keyboard. Great Shame, who I’ve warmed to in the past 2-3 years, blasted out their brand of grind/noise, while Plastics took us into hardcore territory. As with Judy & The Jerks (below), DC is doing a good line in hardcore bands these days and I thoroughly approve.
The spoken-word poet Foulstrand who I saw at the same venue a year or so earlier was again excellent here. Dark fragments of mundanity delivered in a rather brilliant halting manner, while the singer from Sheffield band Big Break (not playing this evening, Covid’d off the bill apparently) noodled some sci-fi sounds from his dinky white electronic keyboard. Great Shame, who I’ve warmed to in the past 2-3 years, blasted out their brand of grind/noise, while Plastics took us into hardcore territory. As with Judy & The Jerks (below), DC is doing a good line in hardcore bands these days and I thoroughly approve.
Festa Rustica Ensemble, Monastero Della Misericordia, Missaglia, 24 April
Handel & Vallotti played in a 15th-century monastery in a tiny northern Italian town which involved (in our case) a confusing drive down narrow country roads that continually threatened to leave us stranded in a farmer's field. As usual with these Brianza Classica concerts, loads of people in attendance and rapt attention from i pensionati italiani. After we'd left, my partner decided to go back to buy a Vallotti CD she'd passed over as we exited. So there I was, left sitting alone in the car for what seemed an age, pondering the beauties of baroque classical music and wondering if my perpetually-lost partner would ever find her way back to the car.
Handel & Vallotti played in a 15th-century monastery in a tiny northern Italian town which involved (in our case) a confusing drive down narrow country roads that continually threatened to leave us stranded in a farmer's field. As usual with these Brianza Classica concerts, loads of people in attendance and rapt attention from i pensionati italiani. After we'd left, my partner decided to go back to buy a Vallotti CD she'd passed over as we exited. So there I was, left sitting alone in the car for what seemed an age, pondering the beauties of baroque classical music and wondering if my perpetually-lost partner would ever find her way back to the car.
The CD she bought: Francesco Antonio Vallotti
Leather.head: Waiting Room, London, 1 June
Leather.head go pop! Well, not quite but there were a few moments when I thought this was indeed happening. Why? Well, because of the ragged (but "poppy") off-mic chant-singing, some Wave Pictures-style melodic crooning and the general semi-rapturous vibe in the room. This isn’t supposed to be the scene at gloomy Leather.head gigs! What is going on? But breathe again. I don’t think Leather.head are selling out quite yet. This was still ambitious art-rock with bite. Squalling sax, cymbal-heavy drumming (including some hand-on-cymbals action), and a singer switching from quietly ominous to screamo anger. This band is not your band, it's mine.
Big Break/Judy & The Jerks: Delicious Clam, Sheffield, 5 June
Hardcore noise to cleanse us of the Platinum Jubilee. First up: Big Break. They've definitely improved in the past 18 months. The singer/shouter's vocals are still delivered with memorable physicality (arched back as he spits out "What the gaffer doesn't know won't HURT HIM!"), but the Spizz-style wackiness of the keyboard stabs is a definite plus. J&TJ, from Mississippi, blasted out short bursts of no-nonsense hardcore. Maximum energy and urgency. They had a very engaging singer (a baby-faced woman with lots of theatrical poses) and, best of all, their stuff triggered a display of groovy shape-throwing at the front - not moshing but some hybrid of jostling and breakdancing. New to me and pretty funny.
SUEP: Dream Bags Jaguar Shoes, London, 17 June
Three hats, two keyboards, one pair of shades: SUEP served up bursts of super-tuneful pop with a mock-shambolic delivery and plenty of joking around. Your correspondent wasn't fooled by the faux amateurism though - SUEP are good. Just when you think they’re a bunch of jokers, out of nowhere they lock into a succession of excellent hooks and winning melodies. At this gig I helpfully knocked over the singer’s pint just as the band were about to start. To exact her revenge she held up proceedings until I’d returned with a replacement drink, saying on the mic, “We’re just waiting for the bloke who knocked over my pint. Oh, here he is. OK, we’re ready”. Cheers!
Leather.head go pop! Well, not quite but there were a few moments when I thought this was indeed happening. Why? Well, because of the ragged (but "poppy") off-mic chant-singing, some Wave Pictures-style melodic crooning and the general semi-rapturous vibe in the room. This isn’t supposed to be the scene at gloomy Leather.head gigs! What is going on? But breathe again. I don’t think Leather.head are selling out quite yet. This was still ambitious art-rock with bite. Squalling sax, cymbal-heavy drumming (including some hand-on-cymbals action), and a singer switching from quietly ominous to screamo anger. This band is not your band, it's mine.
Big Break/Judy & The Jerks: Delicious Clam, Sheffield, 5 June
Hardcore noise to cleanse us of the Platinum Jubilee. First up: Big Break. They've definitely improved in the past 18 months. The singer/shouter's vocals are still delivered with memorable physicality (arched back as he spits out "What the gaffer doesn't know won't HURT HIM!"), but the Spizz-style wackiness of the keyboard stabs is a definite plus. J&TJ, from Mississippi, blasted out short bursts of no-nonsense hardcore. Maximum energy and urgency. They had a very engaging singer (a baby-faced woman with lots of theatrical poses) and, best of all, their stuff triggered a display of groovy shape-throwing at the front - not moshing but some hybrid of jostling and breakdancing. New to me and pretty funny.
SUEP: Dream Bags Jaguar Shoes, London, 17 June
Three hats, two keyboards, one pair of shades: SUEP served up bursts of super-tuneful pop with a mock-shambolic delivery and plenty of joking around. Your correspondent wasn't fooled by the faux amateurism though - SUEP are good. Just when you think they’re a bunch of jokers, out of nowhere they lock into a succession of excellent hooks and winning melodies. At this gig I helpfully knocked over the singer’s pint just as the band were about to start. To exact her revenge she held up proceedings until I’d returned with a replacement drink, saying on the mic, “We’re just waiting for the bloke who knocked over my pint. Oh, here he is. OK, we’re ready”. Cheers!
SUEP: downing the liquids in Shoreditch
Knice: Dream Bags Jaguar Shoes, London, 7 July
Manic energy, shouty vocals, the guitarist scraping his strings up and down a mic stand, the bassist deploying dainty dance moves in his espadrilles, beefy drumming and a psych-surf-punk wall of noise: what more do you want? Shades of Hamer and even the late, great Sundae Kups - Knice were very nice. There were all of five people at this gig - three friends of the band who danced non-stop, a random dude and … another random dude (me). Fave moment: a five second speed-thrash song with a ten-second shouted build-up: “Is this a good time to buy crypto? / Noooooooooooooo …!”. No, forget crypto - invest in Knice. Which ... I did. I invested my time in going to see them again in Norwich later in the year. Despite this involving a somewhat epic trek from London along the A12, I think I can safely say that the Knice bubble has not yet burst.
Knice in Knorwich
Benedict Taylor: Hundred Years Gallery, London, 9 July
This was like Paganini having a nervous breakdown. Benedict Taylor did a lot of frenzied solo scraping of his viola, including some very rhythmic stuff. Intense and sensibly restricted to about 25 minutes, it still saw one audience member slumped asleep in his chair within all of a minute. Meanwhile, another member of the 12-strong audience (I counted) was super-involved - doing an art thing where he moved his pen over a sketch book in response to Taylor’s music. The set finished with almost rapturous applause. A genuinely pleasant London afternoon show.
This was like Paganini having a nervous breakdown. Benedict Taylor did a lot of frenzied solo scraping of his viola, including some very rhythmic stuff. Intense and sensibly restricted to about 25 minutes, it still saw one audience member slumped asleep in his chair within all of a minute. Meanwhile, another member of the 12-strong audience (I counted) was super-involved - doing an art thing where he moved his pen over a sketch book in response to Taylor’s music. The set finished with almost rapturous applause. A genuinely pleasant London afternoon show.
Frenzied scraping: Benedict Taylor
Big Break/Holiday Ghosts/Blood Wizard/KAPUTT!/Black Tambourines: Delicious Clam, Sheffield, 23 July
Stuffed to the gills on Delicious Clam! Yep, I gorged myself with five bands across five hours (possibly the biggest single-sitting session of my entire gig-going life (I generally prefer bite-sized gigs). Was it worth it? Yeah, man, it was. Big Break (“we’re Big Break, and we don’t fuck about. Let’s go …”) did the business again, while I also enjoyed the dual-sax attack of KAPUTT - manic B52s energy a go-go. Best on the night were the reformed Black Tambourines. Lots of Stooges rock drive and bags of harmonies - when they click (eg 25-27 Blues) they’re kinda immense.
Stuffed to the gills on Delicious Clam! Yep, I gorged myself with five bands across five hours (possibly the biggest single-sitting session of my entire gig-going life (I generally prefer bite-sized gigs). Was it worth it? Yeah, man, it was. Big Break (“we’re Big Break, and we don’t fuck about. Let’s go …”) did the business again, while I also enjoyed the dual-sax attack of KAPUTT - manic B52s energy a go-go. Best on the night were the reformed Black Tambourines. Lots of Stooges rock drive and bags of harmonies - when they click (eg 25-27 Blues) they’re kinda immense.
Back from the dead: the Black Tambourines
Power-punk heaviosity courtesy of this trio from super-happening Melbourne. Not quite sure how, but they produced something of a piledriver sound with minimum effort. What was it? Very loud amps? Power chords? A muscular approach? Dunno. Anyway, with just a flick of their collective switch, the moshing kicked off and never stopped. I saw a trio of teenage women dressed apparently for a slightly upmarket club daring each other to join the fray. By the end they were moshing with the moshiest of the mosh kids.
All Girls Arson Club/Family Selection Box/Jeuce: Delicious Clam, Sheffield, 17 September
All hail Delicious Clam. Yes, yet another excellent gig at the very best venue in the whole of Exchange Street S2. AGAC, a drummer-guitarist two-piece, knocked out genuinely beautiful tunes with sly abandon. Pleasingly primitive Mo Tucker-style drumming, amusing lyrics and an all-round sense of f.u.n.. Next up, FSB: guitar pop in a swinging and vaguely Pulpish vein. Then Jeuce, another two-piece, who were a force of nature. A singer/shouter mutant punk-cum-Betty Boo figure who screamed out stuff about "ramming" a dildo into someone while a drummer played snare with his hands. Yes, as I say, all hail Delicious Clam.
Thee Alcoholics/Gum Takes Tooth: Strongroom, London, 8 October
Notable for its baffling lack of urgency, this gig featured interminable gaps between acts at an all-dayer which threatened to become an all-weeker. Anyway, when the bands finally made it on stage these two stood out: Thee Alcoholics with their powerful noise-garage (especially one tune seemingly modelled on the Damned's New Rose guitar riff), and GTT, who emitted a barrage of blistering acid-bleeps and beats while a singer - coming over all 38-year-old yoga teacher-ish - struck poses and intoned ominously on the mic. Mystic incantations from a guru in black workout gear and glow-in-the-dark trainers.
The crowd at Strongroom
Liiek: JT Soar, Nottingham, 14 October
Extremely taut and thoroughly wired post-punk sounds from this Berlin three-piece. Insistent bass with a Gang Of Four throb, busy drumming and - most distinctively - percussive scrapes of feverish guitar played by the yelping, never-less-than-completely-intense singer. Every now and then Mr Intense would let rip with a dashed-off riff to counterpoint the bass and the whole thing was really firing. About 18 songs straight off the reel with barely a pause. Saw ‘em again in London a few days later and … (as above). Great stuff.
Extremely taut and thoroughly wired post-punk sounds from this Berlin three-piece. Insistent bass with a Gang Of Four throb, busy drumming and - most distinctively - percussive scrapes of feverish guitar played by the yelping, never-less-than-completely-intense singer. Every now and then Mr Intense would let rip with a dashed-off riff to counterpoint the bass and the whole thing was really firing. About 18 songs straight off the reel with barely a pause. Saw ‘em again in London a few days later and … (as above). Great stuff.
What's not to Liiek? Post-punk intensity in Notts and north London
Regressive Left: Shacklewell Arms, London, 19 November
Barbed electro-pop in an LCD Soundsystem vein which I nearly didn't bother with because the venue was totally packed out and I have zero patience with (or faith in) rammed gigs. But no, it was worth my while wriggling in among the punters. What my gig heroism earnt me was 25 minutes of beats, guitar, live drumming (often standout good) and a "singer" who traded in smart-cum-snarky lyrics while occasionally switching to (interesting) flat-toned singing.
Thee Mightees/Lewsberg: JT Soar, Nottingham, 21 November
Twee is back! Relaxed, understated super-melodic jangle-pop from Sheffield's Thee Mightees. Fragile vocals, intricate guitar ornamentation and lovely stripped-down drumming: TM are the real deal. Apparently their first gig for "three or four years”, which is a minor crime against pop if you ask me. Meanwhile, Lewsberg, from Rotterdam, with their VU motorik groove and ultra low-key Stanley Brinks-style vocals. They made Thee Mightees seem like fire-eating rock-and-roll showmen. Excellent minimal drumming (just snare and tom), guitar that alternated between spindly delicacy and scratchy freak-out, and a super-tall guitar/violinist/vocalist who had the calmest, most Zen-like demeanor of anyone I've ever seen playing music on a stage. Excellent.
Dog Chocolate: The Job Centre, London, 25 November
Mad-cap joke-punk weirdness from a band (like Thee Mightees) apparently playing live for the first time in three years. The singer, dressed in a hooded animal-print raincoat thing, exploded into life as soon as the music started. Energy! A drole geezer, he also kept quizzing the audience over whether his mic was “muffled”. Meanwhile, minimal drumming (often bashed out very rapidly) and shouty accompaniment from another comedian-cum-guitarist. Not just zaniness for zaniness’s sake though: this was great minimal punk stuff. Postscript: through going to this gig I got a £65 fine for one of those idiotic “you were stationary in a junction box for 0.3 seconds” traffic violations. So a freebie show actually cost me about the same as an O2 Arena ticket. Still, far better value though.
Barbed electro-pop in an LCD Soundsystem vein which I nearly didn't bother with because the venue was totally packed out and I have zero patience with (or faith in) rammed gigs. But no, it was worth my while wriggling in among the punters. What my gig heroism earnt me was 25 minutes of beats, guitar, live drumming (often standout good) and a "singer" who traded in smart-cum-snarky lyrics while occasionally switching to (interesting) flat-toned singing.
Thee Mightees/Lewsberg: JT Soar, Nottingham, 21 November
Twee is back! Relaxed, understated super-melodic jangle-pop from Sheffield's Thee Mightees. Fragile vocals, intricate guitar ornamentation and lovely stripped-down drumming: TM are the real deal. Apparently their first gig for "three or four years”, which is a minor crime against pop if you ask me. Meanwhile, Lewsberg, from Rotterdam, with their VU motorik groove and ultra low-key Stanley Brinks-style vocals. They made Thee Mightees seem like fire-eating rock-and-roll showmen. Excellent minimal drumming (just snare and tom), guitar that alternated between spindly delicacy and scratchy freak-out, and a super-tall guitar/violinist/vocalist who had the calmest, most Zen-like demeanor of anyone I've ever seen playing music on a stage. Excellent.
Dog Chocolate: The Job Centre, London, 25 November
Mad-cap joke-punk weirdness from a band (like Thee Mightees) apparently playing live for the first time in three years. The singer, dressed in a hooded animal-print raincoat thing, exploded into life as soon as the music started. Energy! A drole geezer, he also kept quizzing the audience over whether his mic was “muffled”. Meanwhile, minimal drumming (often bashed out very rapidly) and shouty accompaniment from another comedian-cum-guitarist. Not just zaniness for zaniness’s sake though: this was great minimal punk stuff. Postscript: through going to this gig I got a £65 fine for one of those idiotic “you were stationary in a junction box for 0.3 seconds” traffic violations. So a freebie show actually cost me about the same as an O2 Arena ticket. Still, far better value though.
Nothing is free: Dog Chocolate ripping into it
Wren: Blondies, London, 8 December
This was some kind of doom-shoegaze by a heavy, gloom-haunting trio playing in Blondies’ little door-cum-window area and blocking people (quite rightly) from coming into the gig until there was a break between the songs. Playing in near darkness (just a couple of spooky electric-white uplighters), this gig had an excellent ghost-funereal vibe - slow paced, a cavernous sound, everyone in black. Gothic, man! Unlike some grind/sludge stuff, Wren also seem to have a nice sense of space. Or something like that. Groovy stuff.
This was some kind of doom-shoegaze by a heavy, gloom-haunting trio playing in Blondies’ little door-cum-window area and blocking people (quite rightly) from coming into the gig until there was a break between the songs. Playing in near darkness (just a couple of spooky electric-white uplighters), this gig had an excellent ghost-funereal vibe - slow paced, a cavernous sound, everyone in black. Gothic, man! Unlike some grind/sludge stuff, Wren also seem to have a nice sense of space. Or something like that. Groovy stuff.
Lost in space: Wren doing it for the doom merchants in Hackney
And there you have it. Some truly excellent music, with Sheffield and Nottingham once again rivalling London for the quality of its shows in my opinion. Cheers to everyone who played a part in putting this music on. More of the same in 2023 please ...
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