Not as the title might suggest….
Since I peaked too soon over the bank holiday, coupled with working it, yeah, I sadly missed Monday’s entertainment at our trusty Southgate. Deborah plonked a cheap-as-chips scrumpy on the bar for me, to cure my Southgate withdrawal symptoms, and rubbed salt into the wound by telling Well Hung Heart was her “gig of the year.” Never would’ve guessed!
Across Devizes pubs sought to cater for the dregs of carnival-goers with discos and karaoke, no other thought live music might be an idea, and on those justified grounds attending the Southgate was a no-brainer.
I assumed the Gate might bring in something more generalised, but punk was promised from a Chippenham trio called Work Experience, (who I’d yet to witness,) and punk we got. Though playing to a majority regular who was around for the punk era, mixed verbal reviews came across, because the contemporary pop-punk pigeonhole is a far cry from its roots, and I get that, time moves on, but they were proficient, beguiling and more importantly, loud!
They bought an entourage to lower the age demographic, which is (wink) no bad thing! Though it is The Southgate, and you’re guaranteed a great atmosphere even if Sir Patrick Stewart was reciting War & Peace.
While the band name is new, it’s a reformation of JCJ, brainchild of frontman Julien Biddulph, alongside him, drummer Theo Lender-Swain and bassist Charlie Gibbons. They’ve recently supported Nothing Rhymes With Orange and Lucky Number Seven in two sold-out shows at The Pump, and that’s all I got on them, but never doubt Kieran of Sheer’s word on such matters.
Julien came across well-mannered and passionate about his craft, but behind the instruments, they belted out some refined and (what sounded like) intelligent originals with the hook in perfectly coordinated steady riffs. Yet as common to the genre, the rather subdued vocals could’ve been notched up a bit, nothing a good technician couldn’t solve. It’s the Gate dammit, and we like it rawer than Ol’ Dirty Bastard, and there’s a joke in there to boot; don’t make me spell it out!
They sprinkled the set with some covers, too, few of which I knew, but if Stacey’s Mom is the Wonderwall of pop punk, they delivered it without cliché, and it never fails to amuse.
Okay, so holding onto the bar at the end badly preaching history on Don Lett’s Roxy was at least done subtly to someone of equal age and I didn’t embarrass myself by thickly layering my Uncle Albert moment on the band. You’d be fooling yourself, hoping for a Clash cover, for Blink 182 is an equal classic to this generation, and I’m fine with that, honest, guv.
One surprise was Work Experience stripping back for a fantastic acoustic Tom Petty cover. Yeah, Free Falling, doesn’t matter who covers it, always will love it. And this point leads me neatly onto the support who simply introduced himself to me as Jonah, unnecessarily twisted my arm with a pink shot like a mini McDonald’s shake, as he blessed the Gate with some thought-provoking self-penned acoustic magic.
Honestly, sweet liquors don’t sit on the palate well while drowning oneself in scrumpy, but it was only in the absence of tequila, we did what we did! Nevertheless, like the shot, Work Experience was a gamble for a carnival night, and it paid off in my opinion.
You can catch them this Friday at The Pump with Start the Sirens supporting Lewis Poole, but full praises to the Southgate, as ever, felt so good to be back after venturing the summer festivities. They played a wildcard, introduced and hosted an enthralling, young upcoming band, and aside from being the friendliest boozer in town, I support that notion and their dedication… me? I’m vegging out for the rest of the day!
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