Summary
The Wildhearts are predictable. For most bands, that would sound like an insult, a slur, a sideswipe against their integrity and spirit. But for the Wildhearts, a band that has seen countless break- ups, breakdowns and drugs battles in more than a decade of rock 'n' roll, it is something of a compliment. The band are like a boomerang - the fans think it's all over, gone, thrown away. Then as if from nowhere they tend to spring back - like with their new, self-titled album - and embark on a gruelling round of touring as if grunge and nu-metal had never happened. So it was that the Wildhearts, with predictable unpredictability, arrived on the stage of this converted church in Cardiff Bay and launched into the first of many monstrous riffs.
The band have always had guitar lines and chord changes that most bands would sell their grandmother for. And early in the set tunes like Vanilla Radio, with its refrain of "Where's my Elvis? Where's my Elvis?" reminded the audience what it's like to really rock. And some of the assembled throng looked like they needed reminding - unlike most gigs these days, the average age was more 30 than 13. But although The Point normally has crystal-clear sound, there was something lumpen about The Wildhearts on a Wednesday night. For much of the set the clattering of cymbals threatened to drown out guitars, and raucous rugged classics like Suckerpunch and Caffeine Bomb sounded just, well, raucous.See the full content of this document
Extract
Unpredictably, They Saved the Best for the End
Ginger, the frontman who's seen it all, is now sober ...
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