Static Moves at The Three Crowns Devizes

Bussing into Devizes Saturday evening, a gaggle (I believe is the appropriate collective noun) of twenty-something girls from Bath already on-board, disembark at The Market Place. One cries out her desperation for the loo, but there’s no detours to another bar en-route for relief, they’re steadfast to their destination, The Three Crowns; a wise choice….

I’m heading that way too, trying to pick up pace and overtake them, so as not to convey I’m some creepy codger following them from the bus! Some lads intervened with a wolf-whistle down the Brittox, I gathered at them and not me. I’ll quip with them to break the ice, in hope they see it’s coincidental that our destinations are the same. It worked, they seemed unconcerned, and giggly.

With a fresh lick of paint it really didn’t need in comparison with others, and a scrumptious selection of designer burgers, The Three Crowns is the go-to pub for gen z coming of age, millennials, and a number of elder diehard party heads who still think they’ve “got it,” because they have, bless ‘em!

But the greatest thing about these cross-generational gatherings at The Three Crowns is the carefree atmosphere without division. Everybody is here to enjoy themselves. They crave a live band to throw high-energy covers at them, era-spanning songs they know, love and can sing along with, and they’ll party trouble-free together. Younger attendees will high five the elders, and dad dancers mingle without mockery, I hoped!!

I’m at the back gate chatting to landlord Simon while tonight’s band is sound checking. It’s this Marlborough-Swindon based band’s debut at The Three Crowns, but I assure him what I suspected, that Static Moves will fit like a glove. Not wanting to blow my own trumpet, but I was bloody right an’ all!

Static Moves are a side-burns, flat caps and pork pie wearing, two-Clives five-piece covers band with keyboards, in self-promoting black t-shirts. Even if these other elements don’t convey Static Moves are bringing a touch of new wave eighties mod retrospection to the table, any band boasting two Clives is a win-win!

Being honest, there have been occasions when I’ve dropped into the Crowns to see a great cover band, yet my desire for originals redirects my zimmer frame over to the trusty Gate, and I’m faced with two half-reviews; not this time. Static Moves are irresistible, and enthral any audience.

The systematics of Static Moves’ repertoire appears to be anything which can be delivered loud and proud like it’s Coventry in 1980 or Madchester in 1990. If a particular song choice isn’t, they make it so it is. Taking no prisoners they were greyhounds out of the starting traps, rarely coming up for air, save a short break.

The frontman isn’t Luciano Pavarotti, needs not to be, but is commandeering, can hold a note, and a dynamic showman, with a habit of launching his tambourine either airborne or into the crowd.

The band compliment the lively mannerisms, though fairly recently formed, all members hold a wealth of experience, which shows. It looks like a tight ship, a new drummer slipping into the kind of camaraderie which reflects onto the audience; they’re having fun, you will too.

Static Moves compact a party into their pocket, and, for want of a less Potterhead analogy, like a Choranaptyxis it expands to fit the available space when they catapult it out upon an anticipated crowd. They told me they were working on some originals, we’ll hold the front page.

There were components to their set, it kicked off seventies, absolutely scorched Primal Scream’s Rocks, then launched tongue-in-cheek into early eighties pop hits like Nena’s 99 Red Balloons, Kim Wilde’s Kids in America and even found time to make one-hit-wonder Tiffany’s smash their own! As you might imagine, this was my personal summit, ‘cos I bought those singles, but I also observed all generations present acknowledging and lapping up those bubblegum classics.

It moved as swiftly as their tempo onto tracks I’d consider were their own favourites, the more less commercial punk anthems like The Buzzcocks, by which time they had the audience eating out of their hands and could’ve pulled any cheesy bygone slush puppy out of their bag and still rinsed it! As it was they took to The Beastie Boys’ Fight for your Right, which was only amusing until they followed it with a grand attempt at Smells Like Teen Spirit.

Despite the diversity, the template of loud and proud prevented pigeonholing, a party band with a big sack of crowd-pleasers and an unrivalled enthusiasm to deliver them. The finale alongside Billy Idol, were millennial showboats, Britpop anthems, you know the one from The Killers, and yeah, they did Wonderwall, but while I deem that cliché, they did it well, and it always gives the youngsters an opportunity to show everyone they have torches on their phones!

Ahem, that’s irrelevant against the positivity of a diverse crowd throwing away their cares for a moment and enjoying themselves. That’s what’s infectious; you’re duty bound to follow suit with a band like Static Moves. I couldn’t physically leave until the deal was fully sealed.

The Three Crowns revel in this infection, and is the reason it bucks the trend of a decline in pub culture. Here is a Devizes lesson in how to do it, they deserve the praise but don’t really need it. Stalwart for a number of years now, most know the Three Crowns is a testament to a memorable night, including, it seems, girls bussing in from Bath. 

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