Tonight, supporting the fantastic Primal Scream is the second gig of Greedy Souls. How do you get to support Bobby Gillespie and his merry men on your second gig? Having a pedigree that includes fronting one of the finest tracks ever recorded, Weekender probably helps. Greedy Souls is the new venture of Liam Maher one time mouthpiece of early ’90s cult heroes Flowered Up. Along for the ride are Liam’s brother and Tim Dorney from Republica.
The band is tight and there are some promising intros but then Liam starts up with a bad impression of his ‘Flowered Up’ days. There is something worse than the delivery though – the lyrics themselves. Maher introduces one song Saturn Uranus obviously very proud of the cerebral play on words he invites us to “work it out”. The song accuses someone of disappearing so far up there own arse they have become a fart, heady stuff! Another track bangs on about “Rock’n'Roll has saved his soul”. Between songs he tells us that his E is just kicking in and then he parades and hops around the stage like your pissed uncle. “Greedy Souls – remember the name we are coming at yer,” he keeps telling us as well as “respect to the Astoria – one love!” and other twaddle. The crowd pay him little attention. They want their 40-year-olds to still move and look like 25 year olds, just like Bobby will show us all next. During the last track it is obvious that even the bassist has had enough and can’t wait to get of the stage.
Before tonight the last I heard about Liam was that he was selling tapes on Camden market. I really hope he hasn’t given up his pitch because on tonight’s performance I think the world of retailing is looking a more secure future! Liam, F.O. and die, Weekender goodbye.
In tonight’s one-off UK gig Primal Scream want the Astoria to have a good time. They want us to have a party. Gillespie, defying his 40-odd years and on Screamadelica-esque form announces immediately the band’s intention to kick our arses.
The fiery focus that was rediscovered while touring Xtrmntr appears joyously undimmed by their quiet year, and the new material. The gig, preparation for a tour of the Far East, roars into life with new tracks Dresden and Bomb The Pentagon. The rolls into more familiar material such as a charged Swastika Eyes, a blinding rendition of Accelerator as well as Shoot Speed Kill Light, Kowalski and a hugely well received Rocks.
Throughout, the ferocious delivery and projection, the frighteningly cool presence of Mani thumping out the bass lines makes you wonder how they ever managed without him. The audience has to hold on tight throughout this ride and refuse to leave when it is over, it is several announcements later that the crowd actually disperse.
Bobby Gillespie and Primal Scream are still a major force to be reckoned with and our arses, the crap support band’s arses, and all the young upstart bands arses have been well and truly kicked.