Sleaford Mods, Powerstation, Feb 28 2020: Concert Review

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The show was sold out and we were told ‘no media passes.’ But the irreverent Rev Orange Peel wasn’t going to miss Sleaford Mods! Here’s his review.

 “A sold-out show, weeks ago,” two young men are told by the security staff on the steps of the Powerstation. I’d say they knew this but were looking hopeful anyway.

The audience seem to have taken over the Galbraiths across the road. This looks exactly like the crowd that were at Stiff Little Fingers the night before. I suspect they never left, they just holed up here.

I suspect many are here like me, on the quoted recommendation from Iggy Pop, “the greatest rock’n’roll band on the planet”. While it is hyperbole, it’s designed to draw attention to an act you may otherwise pass by.

The Mods are Jason Williamson on voice, Andrew Fearn on the noise. They come from Lincolnshire UK, and Sleaford is a local town.

They’re called post-punk, angry, rap, minimalist, electronic, ranting, “why don’t you just fook off then” music.

It is two-thirds full for the opening act, a duo called ?Tool? That’s who the young woman on the drums say they are, and she says it twice. No other name is mentioned. So I think great, I wonder who the imposters are at the Spark Arena tonight? (Editor’s note: The name of the opening bands is Tooms.)

They are a drum and bass duo. Young woman sounds like Poly Styrene, and looks a bit like her too. Young man is her partner on bass, and together they put out fairly basic but engaging rhythmic riffs. A couple of songs in and then she sounds like Kate Piersen of the B52s.

She is a little self-conscious as she apologises often. We are waiting for the Mods but I enjoy their set. I will try and find out what they are actually called as I would like to hear them again. Their heart is in the right place as they evoke that era of music which has brought most of us here tonight.

A very warm cheer as Jason Williamson strides in to the bare stage with a lone microphone, Andrew Fearn off to his right.

Williamson is all spastic arms and legs, twitchy, full of tics. He gets stuck in a repetitive dance groove where he doesn’t move anywhere before he suddenly breaks out of it.

His movements are schizophrenic, his rapping is manic. He describes the place around him, his mates, other jerks and wankers, what it’s like to be living in England.

Its really a fevered voice from inside his own head which he is expressing loudly as he walks down the street, narrating what he sees happening and how he feels about it. And then he grabs you by your collar and shouts “ fooking coont!” He snarls and it’s nasty and he’s not backing off.

In a world that has flipped into insanity, the most rational and courageous response is to go mad and hit back at it. Several times he reminds us of Coronavirus. “Are you scared? You’re not worried about it are you?”

About 20 seconds into this show and the connection is made.

The music is a hypnotic drone, occasional flourishes of something melodic which briefly flashes like a colourful firework.

Williamson is utterly compelling to watch from start to finish. The energy is immense and never lets up and you really don’t take your eyes off him. As with Rap, the words are important, but equally so is the musicality and rhythmic nature of how you deliver the words.

Rap has its origins in the “Dozens” a Black American tradition of trading verbal insults between one another in rhyme, as a prelude to a fight, or to circumvent a physical fight as the best verbal “cutting” wins. And most importantly, it is profane and very black humour. Note: There is Black black humour, and White black humour.

For someone like myself I was happy, as I have found a new act to get obsessed about for the next few years. As with all art, and music is no exception, it does not come out of nowhere, I am sure they are “grateful for all their past influences”. I would suggest you try:

Half Alive, Suicide
Trout Mask Replica, Doc at the Radar Station, Captain Beefheart and the Magic Band
The Modern Dance, Pere Ubu
And especially, It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, Public Enemy

No encore, great. Kill ‘em and leave.

~Rev Orange Peel

Setlist
What? Fook off, you anorak-wearing pillock!

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