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Review: Black Stone Cherry/Kris Barras Band, O2 Academy
As punters start to flock back to gigs, there’s yet another layer of security to negotiate at the Academy. The general mood in the queue snaking round the venue for this sold-out show is equanimity and resignation. We now face Covid status checks prior to being fed through those airport-style metal detectors, but at least the venue seems to have worked out a system to minimise additional delays – perhaps in recognition of the fact that standing in the rain waiting to be admitted to the Academy has always been one of life’s more miserable experiences.
Having been processed, our prize is the first show on UK soil by a major American band since that pesky virus pitched up. We later learn that the whole tour was touch-and-go right up to the moment when Black Stone Cherry arrived at Atlanta Airport.
is needed now More than ever
Tired of walloping other fellas in MMA and Muay Thai contests, Torquay’s very own Kris Barras retired after a successful ten year career (14 wins, two losses and a draw) to devote himself to music. Any scepticism we might have had about the unusual career progression from cage fighter to rock star is swiftly dispelled as Barras and his well-drilled band grab the Academy by the scruff of its neck and give it a damn good shaking for 45 minutes.
An accomplished guitarist and singer, heavily tattooed Mr. Barras retains a little of the menace of his previous calling, which is handy when it comes to reminding the audience that their participation is required.
Not that such cajoling is necessary as he proves an excellent fit for the headliners and even succeeds in getting the audience to sing along to the best of the brand new songs from his upcoming second album – the agreeably sweary My Parade. Catchy rock radio faves Ignite (Light It Up) and set closer Hail Mary also go down a treat, while a hard rockin’ romp through the Don Nix standard Going Down underlines Barras’s blues credentials.
There’s no new ground being broken here, but the existing sod is given a very vigorous and effective tilling. Judging by how well he was received, a fair proportion of this audience are likely to show up when he returns to headline the Marble Factory next March.
Kentucky’s Black Stone Cherry are one of those bands who’ve always been far more popular in the UK than they are back home. So when frontman Chris Robertson says that the last two years have been the most miserable of his life, it’s not just audience-courting bullshit. He later posts on social media a snap of himself blubbing tears of joy after this show.
The challenge facing BSC after 24 months away was a simple one: to anticipate the mood of a packed crowd who haven’t been permitted to rock for the best part of two years. And they nail it completely. This isn’t a time for subtlety, or light and shade, or smartphones-in-the-air power balladry. What we crave is 90 unrelenting minutes of high-energy rock. And that’s precisely what we get. OK, so there’s a drum solo towards the end, but we need to get our breath back sometime.
Opening with the thunderous Me and Mary Jane, it’s as though BSC have gone back through their catalogue to pick all the songs that are guaranteed to catch fire on stage, building to a rapid-fire climax of Blind Man, Blame It on the Boom Boom, White Trash Millionaire and Lonely Train. In Love with the Pain from current release The Human Condition is already a crowd favourite, though it’s perhaps a shame that the cracking Cheaper to Drink Alone is the sole representative of the Kentucky album. There’s seam of southern rock that runs through all BSC’s material and occasionally bubbles to the surface, as in the scintillating, almost Freebird-esque climax to Devil’s Queen.
What’s more, they attack this show with all the energy they brought to their first Bristol gig at the Fleece back in 2007. Back then, Black Stone Cherry seemed impossibly young to be playing a set that consisted of many a world-weary blues cover. Robertson, in particular, had an absurdly rich and powerful voice for a kid who looked as though he was barely out of short trousers. Today he’s grown into it and could easily take the Mark Lanegan route from rock into Jools Holland/Radio 2/mainstream critical approval territory. Fortunately, he shows no inclination to abandon us.
In a continuous whirl of motion, guitarist Ben Wells gives his usual firecracker performance, while at the back, augmented by an occasionally audible percussionist, John Fred Young hammers those drums with a Bonham-esque intensity. Following the unexplained departure of Jon Lawhon, incoming bassist Steve Jewell has the most challenging role. He fits in comfortably and is well received by the crowd, but is he actually a full member of BSC now or a ‘Darryl Jones in the Stones’ figure who’s destined to be excluded from publicity photographs and interviews? Some kind of announcement really needs to be made.
There’s just the one encore, and aptly enough given what we’ve all been through it’s the anthemic Peace Is Free from the Folklore and Superstition album, the charming naivity of its ‘why can’t we all just get along?’ lyric now freighted with additional resonance as everyone present bellows “Don’t bring your sadness down on me” until they’re hoarse.
All photos by Mike Evans
Read more: Metal & Prog Picks: September 2021
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