WHITE DENIM
The Fleece, Bristol | November 18th
Never mind that it’s a cold Monday night in mid-November, the words ‘SOLD OUT’ are plastered over White Denim’s listing for tonight’s show at The Fleece. The venue bulges with people eager to catch the Texan four-piece following the release of their acclaimed fifth album Corsicana Lemonade just a few weeks ago.
However tight it gets in the crowd tonight though, hats must be tipped to the engineers who have managed to intricately assemble a whole heap of gear on the modest stage – two drum kits, amps, mics and a keyboard. Weaving their way through the set up to take their positions, opening act Syd Arthur get things underway by enveloping the growing audience in a cosmic swirl of phasers, muted organs and 70s psych-rock. There’s plenty of dextrous fretwork on display, with most songs initiating a hypnotic bobbing of heads in the crowd.
After a technician nearly blows himself apart with a live wire, White Denim arrive looking at least five years younger than the last time we saw them. Without a moment’s hesitation they launch into their rifftastic repertoire; the bass bubbles along to the jazzy rhythms knocked out by drummer Joshua Block, while guitarist Austin Jenkins jigs and strums like he’s part Wilko Johnson, part Carl Perkins. Singer James Petralli’s voice fluctuates between sweet and powerful – one minute floating above the squall, the next crashing over it – notably on Corsicana Lemonade‘s opening track, At Night In Dreams, which is given a gutsy airing tonight.
Initially greeted with warm applause after each song, as the set progresses the reaction from the crowd becomes increasingly avid. Soon every number is received with wild cheering, while by the half way mark the front rows have got their shirts off and are throwing themselves around with intent. The band are captivating to listen to and awe-inspiring to watch – guitarist Austin Jenkins’s fingers are a blur, while bassist Steven Terebecki seems to access some higher level of consciousness just to keep track of what he’s doing.
After a while though, we start to wonder: is this music to be impressed by and not moved by? All riffs and no soul? But the moment that thought is born, the band ease into the beautiful and elegant A Place To Start – a masterful song, heart-achingly restrained and direct – and all doubts are silenced. By now feeding off the ecstatic feeling in the crowd – dishing out the occasional high five to the front rows – White Denim even veer off-list to perform a bellowed request from the audience for the song Keys. “Sure,” says frontman Petralli, “we haven’t played that one yet on this tour.”
Latest single Pretty Green goes down a storm, as do older tracks like Bess St and All You Really Have To Do. So many of the songs are like freight trains threatening to run away, but they’re always just kept on the brink of control by the tight musicianship of all four players. The show is a fiesta, a rock and roll party, and by the time the band wrap up the encore, the 11pm curfew is long gone and forgotten.
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Words: Andrew Broaks
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