The Worried Men Take the Pump

And Morpheus said unto Neo, โ€œunfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.โ€ Funny cos, I kinda feel similar about The Worried Men! So much so, it’s worth forgoing my weekend cider ration to drive down to the Pump to catch themโ€ฆ

Fast becoming our flagship grass roots music venue, enough for Wiltshire Councilโ€™s area board to reward them with a grant, Kieran and his team have transformed The Pump in Trowbridge from its origins as a folk club, through offering a diverse programme, and we love it here at Devizine Towers. It’s quirky, quaint, and most importantly, it’s impressively welcoming.

The grant was used to purchase some new equipment for The Pump that will enhance the artist and customer experience. There is no need to up their game with the programme of events though, in my honest opinion. Every show is a gig in heaven already, if heaven has an antique pitcher pump as a feature! Kieran said, โ€œwe’re really trying to contribute to our community and thank you for joining us along the way!โ€ The pleasure is all ours, thank you Mr M.

Their worthy Future Sound of Trowbridge project to promote youthful upcoming bands at the Pump may well be in full momentum, but was put on hold for this Saturday night to make way for experienced, marginally older musicians! One thing you could be certain of, Worried frontman Jamie Thyler handles his guitar like Michelangelo handled his paintbrush. Cruising that well-oiled machine through a medley of every known Renaissance blues and rock guitar riff, with the ladders of his highly accomplished bassist and drummer, moulds them into one beautiful Sistine Chapel ceiling.

The Worried Men show consists of a few originals from their extensive discography, which sound like rock classics anyway, meddled with this cascade of known riffs and only pauses to allow some time for Jamie’s quick-witted, Gilbert Shelton humoured quips. They’re not wholly covers, per say, more improv homages and nods to his influences, the guitar heroes of yore, the blues master axemen from Muddy to Howlin Wolf and Hendrix to prog-rock’s Deep Purple or Zeppelin. Enthusiastic trainspotters will pick out Mungo Jerry, Spencer Davis, The Stones, but never will Jamie simply re-enact, it’s simply acknowledged in a beautiful mesh.

Opening with a decidedly Muddy Water’s version of Just Make Love to Me, and ending with a Jumpinโ€™ Jack Flash encore, it truly was a breathtaking barrelhouse of delta to electric blues, with enough psychedelic swirls to overspill a sugarcube at Woodstock, but more importantly, it was delivered with sublime passion and exceptional skill.

First time I caught the Worried Men was at our trusty Southgate in Devizes last April, I made an odd but fitting oral hygiene comparison, โ€œJamie holds an expression of concentration, occasionally looking up at you through these spellbinding Hendrix fashioned excursions, as if to ask โ€œis that alright for you?โ€ Like a dentist with his tools stuck in your gum, you feel like responding, โ€œyes, fine, thank you doctor.โ€

But none of this magic occurred until after newly-formed indie-punkers Future Plan gave us a grand support. With an attention to the heady dawn of punk, Future Plan attacked an indie set with ferocity and fire, making for a wild ride of originals. It was confident, rocking, and having it. Particularly entrapping was a track they called Rinky Dink, Future Plan might just be the most bookable pub punk band, if the landlord wants drinks to fly off the bar. With a debut EP in the pipeline, and some singles pre-released from it, find them on Faceache here, and I look forward to catching them again on the local circuit.

Another, what might be usually fantastic night at The Pump, and a most agreeable double thumbs-up from me. Though, Iโ€™m still none the wiser as to what worries the Worried Men to call themselves such, if anything Iโ€™d say if itโ€™s not ironic, it should be.


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Worried Men at the Southgate

Glad to find time between running Dad’s taxi to nip over to Devizes’ trusty Southgate, for one reason unworthy of explaing here or another, feels like an age since frequenting our favouritemost tavern, and I’m all smiles to return.

Historically efficient, nonetheless, I’m here to find out what the men are worried about; possibly an ironic namesake for Jamie Thyer’s tradtional electric RnB three-piece, a pub trio very worthy of your attention, should you not have come across them on their 28 years on the circuit.

Sure, I’ve seen The Worried Men’s name about a bit of recent, last time listed at Trowbridge’s Pump with our Tamsin in support. Maybe there’s the reason for my assumption it’d have a folk twinge, but you know what they say about assumption.

Marvellously proficient, in a manner vien of classic sixties and seventies rock bands derived via blues rather than folk, The Worried Men seemed not in the least bit worried to me. Rather brewing in deserved confidence, Jamie’s wealth of experience shows as his fingers glide across those strings, governed, it seemed, from the gods. At one point this guitar virtuoso accepts a mug of tea, drinks it mid-song while continuing to make it look like childsplay.

Treated to the perfect balance of originals and self-stamped covers, they weaved between electric blues and psychedelia rock n roll with a clear nod to its roots. So to blend any subgenre fitted sublimely into a firey set, whether Deep Purple’s Smoke on the Water riff, frenzied hints of punk rock, mellowed Flyod-eske moments or reaching further back to rock n roll’s golden era, every experiment in rock history was crafted into their unique style, without the need to metalise. Though Motorhead did get a moment in their repertoire.

What came out the other side was a loud and proud plethora of excellence of which you could only nod your appreciation to, confident you were in the hands of some really experienced long-haired rockers with Cuban heels.

Jamie holds an expression of concentration, occasionally looking up at you through these spellbinding Hendrix fashioned exercursions, as if to ask “is that alright for you?” Like a dentist with his tools stuck in your gum, you feel like responding, “yes, fine, thank you doctor.”

I guess therein lies the beauty of the rather cramped Devizes answer to the 02 arena, virtually perched atop of a band you’d usually witness from a stage distance, makes it an intimate experience, personal. While this may not suit all, The Southgate does it their own way, and they continue to host free gigs you’d happy pay a ticket stub for.

For this, and the clash of similar as The Long Street Blues Club knocking out, I’d suspect, a blinder at the Corn Exchange, last night down the Gate wasn’t as full as it could’ve possibly been for an act so warrent of the highest praise possible. Again, the strive in The Gate to present us with great live music every weekend needs nourishing and respecting, with other local boozers only doing this sporadically, it’s the only dependant offering of entertainment in town, unless of course you keep up with what’s happening via this rather special website, if I do say so myself!

So, if you were in that exclusive club last night, I wager you were as bowlled over by The Worried Men as was I. From moments of intricate guitar picking with amps low, to the frenzied finale where Chuck Berry’s “Bye Bye Johnny,” fused into medley with Muddy Waters’ “Little Red Rooster” with emphasis on the Stones cover, and The Kingsmen’s “Louie Louie,” with an audience participation encouraged encore of Them’s “Gloria,” this surely was an astounding performance to satisfy the craving of rock aficionados from any given generation.

Onwards, next Saturday’s offering at The Southgate also takes on a blues edge, slightly east of us, local blues group Barrelhouse take up the legendary alcove, and take it from me, if you like your entertainment as gritty and vintage as the great Howlin’ Wolf, you’re in for a treat.