Tindersticks @ Shepherd's Bush Empire - 24 March 2010

The thing about a Tindersticks gig is that you’re surrounded by dedicated followers. Throughout tonight’s show at Shepherd’s Bush Empire, a hushed silence is only broken when the band’s disciples shower the stage in approbation. The cue is a low, mumbled “thank you” from enigmatic frontman Stuart Staples. He’s experienced at controlling this. He’s coy, holding on until the last chord rings out of every tune before he lets us know it’s ok to display our affection.

Tonight feels like a show of two halves. Predictably, the band kicks off with Falling Down a Mountain, the title and opening track from their latest album. It’s a comfortably disjointed opener that puts the seven-piece band to work. But then they seem to slow down, playing slow, moving ballads, one after another. It’s hardly surprising, given Tindersticks’ back catalogue, but for a long time these gentle paeans don’t take off.

All that changes when a resounding version of The Other Side of the World announces itself. Although one of the band’s more recent tracks, this song seems to encompass everything Tindersticks is about. It’s perfect for Staples’ brooding baritone, and it lifts the band into action as they find their momentum.

It stays that way for the rest of the night, as Tindersticks thread seamlessly between new and old. Can We Start Again, the opening track from 1999’s Simple Pleasures, the first of the band’s foray into soul, is a crowd favourite, but given the way people are behaving tonight, a reading from the Old Testament by Staples alone would be enough to send this group of devotees home happy. In their eyes, Tindersticks could do nothing wrong.

Start as you mean to go on

It’s nice to see the new year get off to a good start, to be able to fill your ears with new releases unburdened by the expectation of Christmas sales. If January is anything to go by, this year London will be awash with intelligent, crafty new sounds and old favourites finding new form.

Here’s what I’m listening to and why:

• Japandroids’ new album Post-Nothing revels in intense, lo-fi guitars, distorted to just the right level; rough enough to keep them unpretentious and fresh, slick enough to reveal an undercurrent of classic guitar riffing. The key to this album is that strong melodies and catchy choruses keep it accessible. They’re supporting the album with a show at the ICA on February 23rd. It won’t disappoint.

• Husky Recue come back with their third album, Ship of Light. These tracks challenge and test you with fresh beats and innovative sounds, while comforting and consoling you with the familiar vocals of Reeta-Leena Korhola. How this band has managed to stay predominantly under the radar to date is unfathomable, but equally beneficial for those in the know. Islington Academy hosts them on March 5th. Do it before the rest realise what they’re missing out on.

• Tindersticks fly the flag for the stalwarts with Falling Down a Mountain. It’s a business-as-usual release from the Nottingham legends, lacking the showpieces that graced their previous album, The Hungry Saw, and with a couple of questionable inclusions. Nonetheless, there’s something reassuring about knowing there are bands out there that can just keep on producing. They’re one of those bands that will always have an aura to them live – March 24th at Shepherds Bush Empire will no doubt be the same.

• Fanfarlo’s Reservoir is a resounding debut, rich with horns and explosive percussion. It takes from all that’s currently popular, capitalising on the overwhelming penchant to have three or four vocalists harmonising through a barrage of instrumentation. Despite the activity, they make it work. To see it live would, no doubt, be a pleasure. If you were lucky enough to catch them with Jesca Hoop in Bristol on Tuesday, more power to you. If not, get to the ULU tonight (12th February) for what will surely be a blinder.

On another note, RIP Alexander McQueen. If our musicians can be as out there and boundary pushing as he was, we’re in for a great future.

Where have I been?

There’s only so much you can do. You can read all the music periodicals. You can download free MP3s suggested at LastFM. You can join album clubs. Sometimes bands just slip through the net. I’ve come late to more great musicians than I’d care to admit, but I’ve always made up for lost time.

I heard my first Tindersticks album in 2006 – 14 years after their debut. The Hungry Saw blew me away. I immediately set out to piece together the back catalogue of a band that was more in tune with my emotions than my own inner monologue. It was a lot, and 14 years of my life seem irretrievably gone.

Nick Cave is another. I always knew he was there, but I never knew why. And then Abattoir Blues was put in front of me and it all came together. I fiercely examined the history books and tracked down my lost heritage, immersing myself in some of music’s most audacious lyrics and seemingly impossible melodies.

A musical saviour
And now there’s Soulsavers. It’s funny how some bands capture their sound and mood in their name so effortlessly, when others get it so hopelessly wrong. Listening to Broken, Soulsavers’ latest offering, I genuinely feel like my spirit has been retrieved from an abyss.

This is a superb album. Mark Lanegan’s gruff vocals create a mood dark and foreboding. An extravagant use of minor chords raises inexplicable emotions. The lyrics leave you contemplative and brooding. Yet somehow you walk away from it feeling uplifted. It might have something to do with the pervasive, gospel-esque backing vocals throughout.

This time I’m not as out of the loop as I have been: they’ve only been going since 2003 and their back catalogue comprises two other albums. Nonetheless, that’s six years of my life that could have been a whole lot more special. The Relentless Garage next week will bring it to life. In the meantime, I’ve got some catching up to do. And I can’t wait.