Review: King Nun, The Louisiana

On another February night of unrelenting downpour, a hundred or so eager kids take shelter in the cramped Louisiana to catch the latest band on the Dirty Hit hype train, London rockers King Nun. They’re an interesting fit on a label dominated by The 1975 and their protégés Pale Waves, The Japanese House and No Rome. The heavier moments of Wolf Alice’s oeuvre are perhaps the clearest link you could make to any of their stablemates; King Nun’s thrashing punk-rock is pretty far away from Pale Waves shimmering ‘80s pop.

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Opening the show were the fantastic Bug Club, who tell us after they’re from “that bit between Severn Junction and Newport, yeah that bit.” Unassuming as they take the stage to a room that’s yet to fill up, they launch into a bluesy, rock and roll instrumental. They only have a few recordings on YouTube, but that doesn’t do this group justice. Drummer Dan Matthew is a force of nature, tying down their adventurous jams with precision and flair. Sam Willmett and Tilly Harris trade vocals and riffs effortlessly, their take on the grooves of Led Zep and T-Rex delivered with the skill of performers twice their age. Go see them live if you can because the recordings don’t tell you the whole story with The Bug Club.

Wych Elm are the main support for the tour, however their grunge tunes struggle to differentiate from one another, and their blase attitude doesn’t help the notion that they’re holding something back. There’s definitely potential here if the band can nail down some more arresting melodies and inject some more vim into their performance, but tonight it falls flat.

In contrast, there’s nothing meek about King Nun this evening. Theo Polyzoides stalks onto the stage in knee socks, boots and a dress he bought for £1 earlier today “because I was bored, it’s not a statement or anything, just bored.” Black and white screens atop their amps decorate the stage with library footage, lyrics in an urgent bold typeface and every now and then just ‘BRISTOL’. Their sound is a protein shake of British rock from the punk of the early ‘70s, the grunge invasion of ‘90s and Britpop-indebted vocal delivery. They give it their all, thrashing over the stage without missing a note.

A rare breather is provided by Theo delivering a solo acoustic track which has nods to Radiohead and shows there’s more to his songwriting than brute force riffing. Having supported Foo Fighters and Black Flag, they’re finding their place as a headline act and maybe need one more break to progress to Bristol’s venues but tonight they leave everything on the stage, drenched in sweat and grinning ear to ear.

Main image by Emma Swann

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