Review: Sons of Bill, The Tunnels

We were reminded of the Saharan conditions of weeks gone by as we shuffled into the subterranean Tunnels beneath Temple Meads Station for a night of Virginian indie. Thankfully, support act Carl Anderson did much to ease the humidity with his cool persona and searching lyrics. Accompanied by Sons of Bill‘s own guitar virtuoso Sam Wilson, the rapport he had with the audience was clear to see. It was quickly revealed that Anderson was long term friends with the band and so the on stage ease made sense.

Sons of Bill kicked off with a song that sounded like it could have been off their new album Oh God Ma’am with its ambient guitars and trademark three-part harmonies. The Wilson clan of the south rolled into another two that echo their confident and consolidated sound.

They were let down slightly by a fairly anaemic drum sound, but their overall aura of confidence meant that this seemed of secondary importance to us in the audience.

Frontman James made a joke about the endearing politeness of UK crowds as he introduced their next song Believer/Pretender, also their current lead single, to a silently attentive room. This seemed to command real presence as a song, so much so that a few heads started bobbing in approval over in the hardcore section at the front. There was a Marr-like buoyancy and energy to the guitar work which dovetailed nicely with some simple but irresistible melodies.

The middle stretch of the show featured several songs from their previous two albums, Sirens and Love and Logic. When introducing Brand New Paradigm, James made a self-deprecating joke about how the song was about the struggles of being a ‘millennial’ in the modern age: cue an eruption of laughter from the predominantly grey-haired Sons of Bill stalwarts amongst us.

The anthemic Bad Dancer was a highlight as it sat right in the middle of the set and seemed to be the number to finally rouse the reserved audience from its shell. The universality of its lead refrain: “You’re hanging with bad dancers?” appeared to engender an easing of tension as the band looked more communicative and the audience sang along.

The song also strikes home the influence drawn from 80s American alternative rock in their music. The line: “Once southern girls loved R.E.M” indicates a nostalgic look back at that era and explains a key strand in their powerful, energetic sound. That sound has very much been consolidated in Oh God Ma’am, with additional embellishments of synth and riffs reminiscent of The Smiths.

The brothers’ natural harmony came to the fore in the evocative Fishing Song (the drummer and bassist left for this one) which speaks to base American dispositions of wanting freedom, to ponder loneliness and to fish. Carl joined the boys on stage for an older song that was straight of the Southern rock handbook: impassioned, gutsy, meaning what it says and saying what it means. On top of their clear talent for catchy indie rock, these boys can do a radio-friendly Southern rock number very well too.

Road to Canaan was a contemplative jewel of the main set. With Sam Wilson taking centre stage on acoustic guitar, the band appeared visually unbalanced but it worked to free up space for the vocals to cut through slightly better and allowed some breathing space for the subtle nuances of keys player Abe Wilson.

An encore we called for and an encore we got. After a rousing version of Santa Ana Winds to close the set, the brothers return to the stage in a jovial mood and alone once more. They produce an exquisite version of Wasted Years by Iron Maiden which featured some of the best three part harmonies of the night. Virginia Calling was the loping closer which James signed off with a heartfelt thank you that felt truly sincere

The audience were obliging and thanked the band in return for a night of confidently delivered American rock. They told us they loved playing in Europe, and I believed them. We loved having them and eagerly anticipate the next show.