The Skids, ABC, Glasgow
Jonathan Geddes Published on 7 Mar 2010
click here for original article
According to Richard Jobson, his intentions for this concert were to sing out of tune and dance badly, as usual.
His dancing was indeed dreadful, at one stage resembling a chicken suffering severe cramp, but thankfully his band’s music remains stirringly powerful.
Jobson spoke between songs about his belief that the lyrics still meant something today, but it was a justified claim. The first pint of the evening went flying through the air on the acid-tongued Working For The Yankee Dollar before The Saints Are Coming was delivered in brilliantly desperate style. However, this was not a straightforward greatest hits set, and with a six-strong choir joining the group, there were moments of
innovation too.
Aside from the lyrics, it was noticeable how well the actual music has endured. Never oi oi punks, Scared To Dance’s guitar was a hypnotic tribute to the late Stuart Adamson’s skills, A Woman In Winter’s chanting suited the choir’s backing and a muscular version of Hurry On Boys also impressed.
While the whole band were fine, father and son duo Bruce and Jamie Watson handled Adamson’s parts capably, Jobson was still the star, a proverbial whirling dervish whose vocal still snarls when required.
His energy resonated throughout a closing trio of Circus Games, Masquerade and Into The Valley, which deserved the moshing it sparked from old and young punks alike.
It was a shame an underwhelming encore followed, in which both Saints and Valley were awkwardly repeated acoustically, a treatment that suited neither. It thankfully didn’t put too large a blemish on the
evening, and if this truly is the end of the Skids, they finished on a high.
Star rating:****
The Skids Website
Jonathan Geddes Published on 7 Mar 2010
click here for original article
According to Richard Jobson, his intentions for this concert were to sing out of tune and dance badly, as usual.
His dancing was indeed dreadful, at one stage resembling a chicken suffering severe cramp, but thankfully his band’s music remains stirringly powerful.
Jobson spoke between songs about his belief that the lyrics still meant something today, but it was a justified claim. The first pint of the evening went flying through the air on the acid-tongued Working For The Yankee Dollar before The Saints Are Coming was delivered in brilliantly desperate style. However, this was not a straightforward greatest hits set, and with a six-strong choir joining the group, there were moments of
innovation too.
Aside from the lyrics, it was noticeable how well the actual music has endured. Never oi oi punks, Scared To Dance’s guitar was a hypnotic tribute to the late Stuart Adamson’s skills, A Woman In Winter’s chanting suited the choir’s backing and a muscular version of Hurry On Boys also impressed.
While the whole band were fine, father and son duo Bruce and Jamie Watson handled Adamson’s parts capably, Jobson was still the star, a proverbial whirling dervish whose vocal still snarls when required.
His energy resonated throughout a closing trio of Circus Games, Masquerade and Into The Valley, which deserved the moshing it sparked from old and young punks alike.
It was a shame an underwhelming encore followed, in which both Saints and Valley were awkwardly repeated acoustically, a treatment that suited neither. It thankfully didn’t put too large a blemish on the
evening, and if this truly is the end of the Skids, they finished on a high.
Star rating:****
The Skids Website
No comments:
Post a Comment