Shack - London ICA - 28/7/03
4/5
By: Toby L
Tribulations, Shack know a few. Yet their history need not be gratuitously regurgitated once again for the sake of a sound-bite/snapshot-insight on a group heroically revered as one of the UK's most longstanding, albeit unrewarded (in short: troublesome major-labels, hype in the 80s, and - naturally - a diligent sprinkling of drugs along the way, equating to a hellish rise to prominence).
The simple issue to consider, then: yes, Shack are back in 2003, four years after their much-adored 'HMS Fable' LP - and, indubitably, the world is a happier place for it.
Or, at least, a more peculiar one. Undoubtedly, from just viewing the inhabitants this evening in a half-industry, half-hardcore-followers outing within London's hotspot ICA proves that Shack's revisit is an eagerly anticipated one; record-label honchos, the dedicated, and musician-stars of a new breed of indie-janglers shuffle side-by-side to gain a decent-ish view of the Liverpudlian quartet. And the initial greeting is most touching - brother Mick and John Head trotting onstage, drummer Iain Templeton and bassist Guy Rigby in tow, to an uproarious reception, unrestrained adoration so seldom engaged in such intense degrees by an audience of just a few-hundred.
So the return may be understated, but that's merely to reflect the record with which they're bringing with them - 'Here's Tom With The Weather': the band's most luscious and ambient to date, tinged with strings throughout, Mexicana horns, and completed within an intensive seven-week recording-stint that doesn't reflect the band's usual studio-duration (i.e. a lot bloody longer). Live, Mick remains the hopelessly down-to-earth, charming host. 'A bit ropey,' he self-criticises in thick Scouse following one number, 'but not bad.'
Otherwise, the highlights - aside from impassioned renditions of older matter, particularly a mesmerising 'Pull Together' - lurk towards the new exploits; the joyous bounce of 'On The Terrace', distinctly Merseyside hobble of album-opener 'As Long As I've Got You', wistful romance of 'Meant To Be' and fiddly intrigue of 'Soldier Man': conclusive evidence as to the true originators of the present-day 'new wave' of 'Pudlian songwriting-eccentricity.
Put simply, their gift is one to merge the contemplative with the ground-breaking, but in as subtle a means as possible - so via bouts of melodious observations of the surrounding world (a still-gleaming 'Streets Of Kenny', for instance), or ravaging psychedelia and aggro-riffage, perfectly conveyed in the rousing closer, there seems no end to their endearing endeavour (even in spite of shrill, ear-decaying feedback-interference on occasion). After yet more deafening applause, Mick battles through the PA, almost disbelief in his eyes, 'It's been a f**king boss night - we haven't seen you in ages,' seemingly mirroring just the emotion crossing the whole room's mind at the exact, same interval.
Their career may have been a haphazard one, but if instability should be the fuel for Shack's continually engrossing catalogue, then - potentially - their own sacrifice for easy lives may well make up to the greater world's benefit. Hopefully, they'll finally find solace in a fact such as that.
Artists in this article: Shack
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