Review: NME Next Generation Tour 2012

In King Tut’s Wah Wah Hut, the stairs are paved with bands. Each step has a list of the ‘best’ bands that have played in the venue every year since it opened in 1990. Its capacity of just 300 means that acts which are now iconic played here when, well, not very many people had heard of them at all. Oasis played here in 1993, and the story goes that the gig landed them a record deal. King Tut’s is famed for helping fledgling bands take that next step to stardom. The bands playing here tonight as part of the NME Next Generation Tour must be hoping for a similar miracle.

First on the bill is Sam McGarrigle and his band, aka Gross Magic. Heavy grunge riffs blend with 80’s electronica to present a daring, psychedelic genre-mash that works better than you might think, though I’ll admit, it wasn’t really my thing.

While not a tribute to the TV show, The Cast of Cheers played a very impressive set which might soon-ironically- leave them with the problem of walking into bars where everyone knows their names. The band’s Irish charm floods over into their music, making it impossible to stand still through tracks like ‘Pocé Mit’. Their upbeat math-rock contrasted nicely with the shoegaze-synth pop of Gross Magic.

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The audience watched, clapped politely. But nobody really did anything. This, from a notorious ‘Glasgow crowd’? 

“Does anyone have a guitar pick?” Jordan Gatesmith asks. When one of the guitarists doesn’t have a pick, you begin to question what it is you’re about to witness, but when it comes to Howler, ‘serious’ isn’t in their vocabulary. Their hour-and-a-bit long set covers the majority of their debut album, and showcases new songs ‘Ipecac’ and ‘Louise’. Both are fairly similar to the Beach-Boys-on-a-downer brand of surf-rock that’s become their trademark, but it’s album tracks ‘Told You Once’, ‘America’ and ‘Beach Sluts’ that go down best. The aforementioned Glasgow crowd go wild, pushing forward towards the barrier, punching the air, and each other, quite a bit. Howler’s presence completely changes the dynamic from that of a civilised showcase, to an unabashed rock show.

Gatesmith keeps up a rapport with the audience between songs, and they with him. One voice shouts, ‘Jordan, where’s France?!’ in reference to the band’s recently departed member, France Camp. ‘He fucking died, he got run over by the [tour] bus!’ comes the reply. Max Petrek chips in, ‘We ate his hot corpse.’ There are also multiple references to the singer’s love of the great Scottish drink, Buckfast, notably absent from the stage tonight. In defence, he claims, ‘I don’t actually know where to get it, people just bring it to me!’ Buckfast suppliers? That’s rock ‘n’ roll.

The gig is great fun, but I still find myself plagued by ‘The Howler Conundrum’: the songs are addictive, but it’s nigh on impossible to remember the titles and hear the lyrics. I find myself sneaking a peek at the setlist to remember the title of the song being played. This is somewhat concerning for a band that has a second album in the works- variety in order to guarantee longevity is key. They might just have to hope that being ‘cute and kind of snide all at the same time’ will carry them through, and earn them their own place on the hallowed steps of King Tut’s.