You may never have heard of King's X but there's only a small probability that you've not heard their sound.
Here's how the story reads. Texan trio releases debut album in 1987 after years together. They combine heavy metal grooves, Beatle-type harmonies and thoughtful lyrics in a way that no other band did, or does now, for that matter. Guitarist uses drop-D tuning for many of his guitar riffs, which creates a unique, deep, "grungey" sound. Certain other musicians copy style. Form bands with names like Pearl Jam and Soundgarden. These bands influence other bands like Rage Against The Machine, Creed etc. All bands sell millions and millions of records except for the Texan trio, who remain in relative obscurity. Go figure.
Whatever the injustices of record companies, marketing men and a general public obsessed with image, the fact remains that King's X have a loyal following that brings new meaning to the word "cult". Tonight's absolutely heaving Mean Fiddler is testament to that much and the band do their best to show us exactly why they should be revered in the annals of all-time rock greats.
You want songs?
Try the punching, power rock of Dogman, Looking For Love and the self-explanatory Welcome To The Groove Machine, all of which boast choruses the size of Robbie Williams' ego. Stand back at let the hairs on the back of your neck stand up with shivers of delight as they play Cigarettes, which is beauty come down in musical form and ranks alongside the likes of Live's Lightning Crashes in the premier league of subdued rock moments.
You want musicianship?
Marvel at Ty Tabor's frankly awesome skills as he wrestles everything from doom-laden metallic riffs (Black The Sky) to delicate shades of colour (Summerland) from his guitar. During the course of the evening he earns several rounds of applause for doing his bit to save the dying art of the guitar solo, though mercilessly the solos are always perfectly placed, perfectly sized (i.e. not too long) and, of course, perfectly executed.
And as for Doug Pinnick and Jerry Gaskill, well, their performance on bass and drums, respectively, is tight enough to make you believe that telepathy really does exist, while Pinnick's ability to switch from high-pitched '80s rock scream to soulful Hendrix croon with not even a modicum of effort should trounce any ideas that the "pop idols" on reality TV shows are any more talented than lobotomised muppets.
And do you want entertainment?
How about a band who plays for two whole hours and keeps the audience transfixed, nay mesmerised, as they sing along with every word to songs spanning 20 years of creative outpouring? At one moment Doug plays bass and sings on his back, held aloft by a sea of hands in the crowd. For the encore, the band swap instruments and though the resulting mess is by their own admission "awful", they're "just having fun" and drummer Jerry Gaskill has proven himself to be a better player than many rock bands' actual guitarists.
As the evening draws to a close and 1000 delirious souls prepare to leave and talk about one of the most impressive live performances seen on these shores for a good while, Doug Pinnick promises that King's X will return sooner than the three years it's taken them to come back this time. Rock fashions may change, faddish bands disappear but true class never dies - we'll be waiting with bated breath.
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