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Review: FM/Sons of Liberty, Thekla
Changing vocalists can be a challenge for any band. It’s particularly risky when they’re on a steady upward trajectory. So how will Brummie interloper Rob Walker fare in front of a partisan hometown crowd?
Bristol’s very own southern rockers Sons of Liberty have been building up quite a following ever since they took the wise decision to ditch the covers and play only original material. Part of their appeal was the, ahem, distinctive figure cut by cane-wielding, gruff-voiced former singer Rob Cooksley.
is needed now More than ever
Walker has a very different, rather more conventional style. But what the quintet have lost in eccentricity, they’ve gained in versatility. What’s more, a summer of touring has tightened everything up a couple of notches.
Sons of Liberty are clearly delighted to have landed this leg of the FM tour, even if this means having to squeeze in front of Pete Jupp’s sprawling drum kit on the cramped Thekla stage. Veterans of many a support slot, they know exactly what’s required of them. Mandatory good ol’ boy headwear (cowboy hats, baseball cap, etc) firmly in place – with the defiant exception of stick-twirling drummer Steve Byrne – these seasoned Avon delta rockers waste no time in declaring a swift “Hell, yeah!” and pummelling their way through a set of their strongest material.
The jolly Up Shit Creek remains a centrepiece while Ruby Starr (a tribute to the forgotten heroine of southern rock) is still their best song. Rich Man, Poor Man, Beggar Man, Thief elicits a crowd singalong and excellent newie Damaged Reputation really allows guitarist Fred Hale to let rip. He also enjoys the occasional Allmans-style twin-lead harmony wig-out with fellow guitarist Andy Muse, while Byrne and bassist Mark Thomas hold down a rhythmic foundation so solid you could build one of those ubiquitous blocks of cramped inner city apartments on top of it.
Walker certainly has a powerful voice and even attempts a shaky “Alright, my babbers” to get the local audience onside. But his position within the band still seems unclear. Officially, he’s just covering for the summer shows, which means SoL remain in flux and will soon have to make a decision about their next step.
It cannot be said often enough: FM really are a class act. Advancing years can be particularly cruel for rock vocalists, as anyone who’s heard Bob Catley’s croak or David Coverdale’s rasp lately will attest. Fortunately for FM, Steve Overland belongs alongside Glenn Hughes and Danny Bowes in the other category of singers who are blessed with an undiminished vocal range.
Yep, the mullets may have vanished along with the faintly embarrassing MTV-era attire, but Britain’s finest AOR act sound just as good as ever. Why spend a fortune to see the likes of Journey, Toto or even Bon Jovi (especially as you’d have to endure all that poundshop Springsteen guff alongside the melodic rock classics) when a homegrown band is every bit their equal in the big singalong chorus and gorgeous vocal harmony departments?
The rare skillset required here is to carry off lyrics that are often little more than loose assemblages of hoary old cliches with such conviction that they acquire the patina of meaningfulness, becoming so gloriously uplifting that their occasional banality is rendered irrelevant. FM boast an embarrassment of these riches, but what’s particularly impressive is that they’re not limited to those early albums. Indeed, tonight’s career-spanning setlist demonstrates a remarkable consistency, with the high quality bar met all the way to their latest, 13th release – the imaginatively titled Thirteen. From opener Synchronized to the irresistible Crosstown Train and set-closer Turn This Car Around, this recent material comfortably holds its own against the almost-hits they’re contractually required to play.
They spring a few surprises too. The cover of Eric Martin’s Everytime I Think of You from his I’m Only Fooling Myself album makes a welcome return to the set after superfanboy Martin caught FM live for the first time recently. “There’s just no band better than these guys,” the Mr. Big frontman gushed on social media afterwards. That’s high praise from an artist with so many platinum albums under his belt.
With youthful ambition and record company pressure a thing of the past, FM are now playing for the sheer joy of it, with the enthusiastic audience sharing that pleasure. There’s literally not a note out of place as bassist Merv Goldsworthy and guitarist Jim Kirkpatrick join Overland in belting out those gargantuan choruses. Inevitably, crowd-pleasing debut album Indiscreet gets an airing later in the set, with the likes of debut single That Girl still sounding fabulous when shorn of its of-its-time production.
The nature of the Thekla stage means that one member of any band is going to be the loser. Tonight, it’s keyboard player Jem Davis who finds himself stuck behind that speaker stack at the side of the stage, occasionally leaping out to wave and remind us that he’s actually there. The encore of Other Side of Midnight provides his opportunity to break out the weapon of choice for overlooked keyboard players everywhere: the dreaded keytar. As he romps around the stage with the abandon of an inmate recently released from solitary confinement, it’s clear that FM’s 35 year-plus party isn’t about to end anytime soon.
All pix by Mike Evans
Read more: Metal & Prog Picks: August 2022
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