It’s a dark, cold Sunday night and we’re on our way to Nottingham’s Rescue Rooms. Usually a great venue, tonight it’s oversold to an almost ridiculous degree, with the crowd squashed in right up to the door, and the temperature soaring. This is less of a surprise than it seems. Normally when The Wildhearts roll into Nottingham, it’s to Rock City (sitting empty next door), which is never less than rammed, suggesting someone underestimated the immense gravitational pull of this wonderfully rejuvenated act. However with this being a Wildhearts gig, people are friendly enough as we indulge in a venue-wide game of sardines.
Thanks to Sunday curfews, the show is rather earlier than usual, and we arrive just fifteen minutes before the band takes the stage, with the single support act (Meryl Streek) having been and gone. The room is already at capacity and, from the buzz in the air, you’d never have thought that the band were in Nottingham just eight months ago. However, with The Satanic Rites one of the best albums of an incredibly diverse and impressive career, this second run of dates feels like a well-deserved victory lap and, when The Wildhearts take to the stage, the cheer is loud and sustained.
Once the noise subsides, Ginger takes to the mic to warn us that he’s ill. However, he says, there’s no way they were going to pull these shows so, if he feels ill, he’ll disappear for ten minutes to grab some painkillers. This is the first, last, and only indication that Ginger is on anything less than top form and he leads the band through a monster performance that leaves the audience dizzied and bruised by the sheer force of it all. Better still, the setlist is massively changed from the preceding tour, the band having learnt an entirely new set (despite writing a new album). This they unleash with a mix of passion and precision that shows Ginger’s instincts were bang on the money when he went on his recruitment drive. It is so, so cool to see and, sporting massive smiles, The Wildhearts go about their business of reducing The Rescue Rooms to so many smouldering embers.
They open with an awe-inspiring Failure Is the Mother of Success. The pile-driving lead single from the most recent album, it’s a labyrinthine track that crams in multiple riffs, moods, and melodies, the band unleashing an energy that would keep the National Grid going throughout Christmas and beyond. Then, we’re off into the highways and byways of rarely played Wildhearts gems. Nothing Ever Changes but The Shoes kicks off with a bass-led groove before morphing into a full-tilt punk rocker, nodding to the band’s self-titled effort and then, following some thank yous (the first of many from an endlessly grateful Ginger), the band plough into Sleepaway – a fun blast from 21st Century Love Songs. The singalong Vernix is an unexpected treat from Chutzpah! and it segues into an equally groove-laden Mazel Tov Cocktail.
We then get a brief digression in the form of the band’s uptempo take on the theme tune from Cheers. It may not have gotten anywhere near the charts (despite Chris Moyles’ best efforts), but everyone here knows the lyrics, and so we get a sweetly simple moment before Ginger unleashes Kunce, which sounds like a sweary Ramones on steroids.
With the set list wonderfully varied and blazing past, we get to the night’s core and a trio of highlights. First up (dedicated to narcissists and people who play the victim) is Maintain Radio Silence, which combines giant riffs, rock ‘n’ roll keys, and no small amount of vitriol. The rock ‘n’ roll vibe continues into Splitter, another tip of the hat to the fantastic 21st Century Love Songs. Then, we get the motherlode – a brand-new track from the band’s embryonic new album. Titled Spider Beach, it’s led by the keys, features a sweet QOTSA style groove, and elicits a massive cheer from the eager crowd (“well, that’s very fucking nice!” beams Ginger). It’s a measure of the energy within the revamped Wildhearts that they’re already writing the follow up to Satanic Rites and it fully justifies Ginger’s faith in the enduring power of the band. If the entire record matches the quality of this tantalising snippet, then it’s clear that this new iteration of the band is just getting started.
The final third of the gig contains only a handful of tracks, but several of these are extended into epic workouts that ebb and flow for nearly twenty minutes. First up, Everlone tears through the venue like a hurricane. Then, without missing a beat, the band race through a medley that is truly riff after motherfucking riff. It’s gleeful, slightly disjointed, and results in numerous “I know that” moments, although the band have already moved on to the next epic moment by the time it hits you. It’s followed by a gargantuan trek through Slaughtered Authors, leaving everyone wondering just how much more they can take. Fortunately, the band are not done and, wrapping up the main set, we get a double dose of nitrous powered pop in the form of Diagnosis and Chutzpah!
If Ginger still feels ill, it doesn’t show as the band return for an epic encore that crams in countless delights. Geordie in Wonderland drifts dreamily along, cheekily rebranded as Geordie in Nottingham; Troubadour Moon remains a brilliant pop song, and it says much of the new album’s quality that one of its songs can sit so comfortably in the encore section. Then, bringing it all to a monumental close, we get My Baby Is a Headfuck (complete with Daytripper snippet); a fucking mental Suckerpunch (delivered with all the force of an anvil to the cranium); and, of course, I Wanna Go, which turns into a venue-wide singalong, despite the exhaustion now starting to set in. It’s a fiery conclusion and, with the feedback still ringing in our ears, we stream out into the night, very aware that we’ve just witnessed a band operating at the peak of its powers
In interviews discussing the new line up, Ginger enthused that he could ask them to learn anything and the combination of their enthusiasm and musical skill means that they’d do exactly that. Here, on this tour, he makese good on that promise. With an almost entirely new set list (the encore notwithstanding), Ginger takes us on a journey through numerous Wildhearts tracks that have been left unloved in the live arena and the crowd, hardened Wildhearts fans all, go nuts.
In these uncertain times, few bands would take the risk of two tours in the same year. Even fewer would eschew the hits for deeper cuts, but The Wildhearts is a way of life and the community the band have built over the years is real. This is an audience who live for such moments, and so full is the venue, there’s a suspicion that the band could have tackled larger venues and still come out on top. Whatever, The Wildhearts at The Rescue Rooms is a special night that rewards the faithful but, with songs that more than equal the big hitters in terms of power and unstoppable melodies, it also draws in the few uninitiated, who leave the place looking like they’ve been beaten with a sugar-coated baseball bat.
All hail The Wildhearts. We headed to Nottingham excited for the show, we left raving about it for the entire journey home. On this sort of form, the band are now unstoppable.
