If ever a band was destined to fall apart in a grotesque orgy of fist-fights and collapsing septums, it was The Wildhearts. Yet last year, two decades after the release of their third studio album (and yes, 1994’s Fishing For Luckies does count), Ginger and his loyal henchmen performed to even bigger crowds than first time around, sounding snottier and ballsier than ever.
Aside from being a snapshot of a veteran band on splendid form, this provides a reminder that even the band’s deepest cuts were beautifully crafted hard rock gems. The hits – I Wanna Go Where The People Go, Just In Lust – still sound glorious, but it’s gnarlier tunes such as Caprice, Naivety Play and Be My Drug that have matured like vintage Special Brew. Ultimately, who wouldn’t enjoy singing along to a song called Up Your Arse You Fucking C**t? You don’t get that from Rival Sons.
