This was a last minute decision and exactly why I am loving living in London: a midweek show in a small venue cuz I was in the mood and have wanted to check out Trampolene.
Dingwalls is awesome; a 500-capacity club cum live venue that's been around since 1973 and has hosted some legendary musicians including plenty of punk bands. The photographer Roger Morton called it "low and dark and full of life" and that is a perfect description. It's a bit seedy and has a great feel with it's multiple layers stepping down to the concrete floor in front of the small-ish stage. There are plenty of great sightlines no matter how close you want to get to the action. The staff were good, especially the bartenders, and the crowd was mercifully not super young as I'd feared, but mainly 20s to 40s and attitude-free.
First on were Lacuna Bloome, a very young band with some pretty good songs, but a fairly dull stage presence. They were definitely shown up in that department by the headliners and the other openers, The Surrenders, who were energetic and fun to watch. The latter's music skews a bit southern US rock (Black Crowes, Jack White, early Stones) for my taste, but they sound great live and were electric and winning, particularly the lead singer, Connor who has a great sense of style and physical presence, and the lead guitarist.
After a couple of songs, including the really catchy
Maybe There'll Be Blood, we got an introduction to the band: "We're Connor, Richard, James and Scott. And you're London." Their seven song set (also including the memorable
No Paper) warmed the room up perfectly and must have won them some new fans if there's any justice in the world.
After a pause, plenty long enough to get another drink and get repositioned for the main act, a taped recording of
Artwork of a Youth came on. It's spoken pattern of "Alicia Pitson was the first girl I ever fancied..." and so on gave me a giggle, when I noticed that some of the names were bleeped out, leading to thoughts of old friends awkwardly asking to not be named so publicly.
Trampolene's front man Jack Jones came on stage in a fuzzy hooded coat, looking like a crazy but adorable muppet and was quickly joined by his bandmates, bassist Wayne Thomas and drummer Rob Steele, who immediately launched into
Under the Strobe Light. I'm glad I took a quick photo, because the coat came off as soon as they were warmed up.
I first heard Trampolene last year when they made a big impression on me mainly with the spoken word poetic pieces
Ketamine and
Saving My Life in A & E. Jack Jones has a prodigious lyrical ability and an almost embarrassing truthfulness about drugs and sex, his ego and his ambition. By the end of the night and witnessing his tremendous showmanship and connection to his fans, it is clear that he could be a very big rock star in the making. I'm surprised that it didn't click in my brain that he and the band are Welsh until this show. The drum kit was draped with the Welsh flag and suddenly I heard his accent as he chatted to and charmed the crowd. He certainly possesses that loving genuineness I've noticed in the Welsh.
So, I mentioned that this was a last minute gig for me, and it's because I was worried that Trampolene may be another youthful band aimed at winning teenage girls as fans, similar to how I now see The Kooks or Razorlight. And while it's inevitable they will appeal to a young, female fan base, this show demonstrated that they deserve a much wider and critical audience. Jones' lyrics can sometimes be romantic and slow and deal with love, but it's done with a genuinely deft poetic skill. Somehow the Welsh heritage makes this an easier conclusion to come to when I think of Dylan Thomas. And then they just rock out much more than you might expect from their recorded material.
During several of the set's songs, Jack easily got the crowd singing along, and at one point read a poem written by a regular show attendee, Alex, called "This Wednesday's Different". Bassist Wayne's little brother then joined the band on guitar for
Imagine Something Yesterday. The final song of the night was introduced by Jack with "my grandad always said that if you want something you can't pray for it, you have to
Storm Heaven", and during the guitar solo, Jones played his guitar while crowd surfing. The amazing performance was topped off by a now very drunk-seeming but still coherent Jones reciting the spoken word
Pound Land to a crowd that were hanging on his every action and word.
What a night. I bought a T-shirt before heading home, not so much because I liked it, but I just felt that this gig was worth so much more than the mere
£10 ticket price. Definitely one of my musical highlights for 2018, and yes, I really hope to see them again before too long. If you like their music at all, I strongly suggest you go experience them live.
Setlist:
Taped Intro: Artwork of a Youth
Under the Strobe Light
It's Not Rock and Roll
You Do Nothing For Me
Alcohol Kiss
Adrenaline
Ketamine
The Gangway
Beautiful Pain
Tonight We'll Be Fine
Imagine Something Yesterday
The One Who Loves You
Dreams So Rich, Life So Poor
Storm Heaven
Encore:
Pound Land (Jack's spoken word)
While the rest of the band had a bit of a dazed, or overly-chilled, look to them, the sound they produced was the opposite: tight and driving. Several of the early songs (like Big) began or were driven by Deegan's bass and then layered upon. You then can't help but hear the influence of the Beach Boys and other surf sounds (Link Wray) as well as Buddy Holly in the dual guitars and be thoroughly charmed. The cherry on top is the Irish accented voice of Chatten, echoey and atmospherically droning in the best post-punk sense. Fontaines D.C. have created an exciting, new sound out of some stellar and diverse influences.
