Review: Band of Horses @ Manchester Ritz

Date: June 8th

Reviewed by: Abbas Ali

With his wailing, distinctive high voice, and jagged country-rock stylings, the shadow of Neil Young looms large across the whole of US guitar rock. People talk often about Bruce ‘The Boss’ Springsteen and Bob Dylan, but the Canadian’s influence is often overlooked, despite being the King of the Laurel Canyon scene in late 60s /earl 70s LA, and, oft-noted as the Godfather of grunge.

And so it is with tonight’s Band Of Horses, a South Carolina quintet. They may have been formed in Seattle in 2004 by lead singer/guitarist Ben Bridwell, but their music is a country rock celebration of the broad plains and massive-scale countryside of Southern US states previously done so well by the solo artist. The singer even goes as far as to retain Young’s vocal stylings, albeit crossed with the tinny whine of Mercury Rev’s David Baker, or perhaps even Perry Farrell of Jane’s Addiction.

The Manchester Ritz is a fitting setting for their romantic, lovelorn rock, as a medium sized nightclub that only occasionally transforms into a gig venue to put on the best indie rock bands. It’s album number three for the band, Infinite Arms, a major label debut that has critics ready to turn on Bridwell and his cohorts at any moment.  An appearance on the Twilight soundtrack has been bagged, and a Jools Holland appearance is under their belt. Meanwhile, the group are reaching greater commercial heights, entering the US album chart top 10, and headlining venues such as these for the first time. The question is, are they up to the challenge?

Well, like burglars, they’ve certainly come equipped tonight, with a deafening sound system showcased by the Doors-y support band, Darker My Love. Starting as a 2-piece, Bridwell is soon joined onstage, beginning with ‘Ode To LRC’ from 2007’s Cease To Begin.  It’s a song ostensibly about a dog, but really a love song to small-town America and its kindness, warmth and simplicity, “The town is so small / how could anybody not / look me in the eyes/ and wave as I drive by”. While the concert unfolds, two huge screens project black and white images of said America, wide open spaces, horses (of course), trees and log cottages.

Onstage, the action continues with the majority of songs taken from Cease To Begin and Infinite Arms. As they hit us with Eagles-like harmonics of ‘Blue Beard’, the imagery, the many onstage beards, and a bravely-worn cowboy hat, it all seems to point to a more comforting time, music designed to reassure in these times of economic and political uncertainty.

The band finally hit familiar territory with a double whammy of ‘Compliments’ and ‘Factory’, the latter garnering the biggest cheer of the night. Something seems to be missing, though. Perhaps it’s that the new material seems weaker than the old. They hit us with mourning, plaintive tune ‘The Great Salt Lake’ with its shoegaze guitars, but ‘Is there A Ghost’ feels like a new beginning.  Somewhere halfway through it, the muffled sound clicks and cracks, and suddenly gets louder, as unused speakers kick in, and the band suddenly find another gear.

In this month of football, it seems the concert is a game of two halves, to borrow a cliché, and the band go on more confidently. Later, when they end their set with the most impassioned moment of the night, soulful blues number ‘Am I A Good Man’, they hit the song with such gusto, that it does leave you wondering why they hadn’t added more such old school r n’ b to the set.

Indeed, to follow the footballing analogy, if tonight had been a group qualifying game, it would be a draw, with everything still to play for. It’s still very much unclear if they’re a minor indie act who’ve lucked in by signing to a major label, or if they are destined for greater things.