Black Lips

Privatclub, Berlin | 24 May

For many, the Black Lips began to lose their appeal some time after 2007’s debut for Vice Records, Good Bad Not Evil.

The hype all began to seem a little suspect, especially the collaboration with multi-Grammy-winning pop producer Mark Ronson. There was a pretty unanimous expectation that this was the boys from Atlanta’s time to break it big, but it’s now three years on from that Ronson album (Arabia Mountain), they’ve just released their fourth album on Vice, their seventh overall, Underneath the Rainbow, and they ain’t playing stadiums yet. They are, however, constantly packing out small to mid-sized venues across the globe – from the Middle East, to India, and here tonight: their second of two sold-out shows in Berlin’s cosy Privatclub.

Tonight’s support, and a name on many many lips, Fat White Family set the stage nicely with their sleazy head-banging grind, spraying beer everywhere and getting the club dripping with sweat, mostly their own. They appeared and sounded just about as filthy as their reputation has it, and delivered a short but strong set, affirming their rising status as a live act not to be missed.

With a weight of history, expectation and that nagging sense of doubt, the Black Lips’ entry sparked a twinge of apprehension. The feeling soon vanished. They kicked into the raucous blast of Family Tree, guitarist Cole Alexander leaning back and launching his signature dollop of spit into the air, and within seconds the crowd was twisting to the beat and the energy of the room was alive.

The customary moshing and crowd-surfing began, a beaming King Khan’s young daughter one of the first to get involved. They blasted effortlessly through a bunch of new songs, and switched back and forth to many an old number, including Good Bad Not Evil cuts Bad Kids and O, Katrina!, keeping the crowd moving without a break. They bashed out Not a Problem and Dirty Hands from their 2005 album Let It Bloom, and even pulled out the creepy horror-blues track Stone Cold from their 2003 self-titled debut LP, truly a stone-cold classic.

Though they may not have delivered any of the crazy antics fans have come to expect/demand (it never got much further than King Khan chucking a bunch of toilet paper), they made up for it in boundless energy and charisma, sweating out their array of raw and catchy tunes with such confidence you just couldn’t help but lose your shit.

In some ways this is affirmation of the accusations of ‘maturity’ levelled at the band, as if that’s some sort of negative trait. But surely that ever-so-slight touch of maturity is a good thing. Rather than concentrating on wild antics and grabbing schlocky alt-music-press headlines, this is a band more focused than ever on the important thing here: the music. And as a live rock and roll band, they are undeniably pros. Whatever this newfound maturity means for the future of the band, they still deliver a killer live show, and they’re still loving it. You should too.

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Words: Lewis Lloyd

Photography: Hans Tobias Duvefjord