Ash - Oxford Zodiac - 1/3/04
4/5
By: Toby L
Ash, you say? Didn't they fritter out as if by magic in a puff of rancid, choking smoke from a fresh pack of Marlboro Lights as bought by an ex-member of the Britpop fraternity (Rick Witter, perhaps), along with all the other wannabes that existed way back in the mid-90s?
Cobblers they did. Yes, the Irish trio (and posh bird) have always been so much more than scene copyists. Lest us forget, staying-power only exists through either one of two possible notions - one, you're still relevant, or - two - you have a nigh-on delusional, fiercely obsessive fan-base that'll love you no matter what. And, uniquely, in Ash's case, they bear both of the previous, hence such continued esteem.
But, f**k us if we were expecting this. A live-show so flawlessly punchy and continually rousing that we're engrossed for beyond 90 minutes, and all in the venue a sixth of the size they could easily pack out amidst the British provinces. In a tried 'n' tested ('n' proven successful) attempt to showcase new material from forthcoming, fifth studio-LP (counting their debut mini-album of 1994, 'Trailer') via a series of fan-only, low-key gigs around the country, Ash are presently as youthful and commanding as any of the 'hotly-tipped's that rockfeedback's been pleasurably psyching and pushing as 2004 unfurls.
Seemingly, their new'un 'Meltdown' bodes yet more of the tempestuously tuneful, fearlessly abrasive, yet somehow collectively palatable, penchant for rough melody from which Ash have carved their mantel.
Despite this, however, 'Girl From Mars' opens the show, and with dramatic effect - bodies flail, pits are formed, and hundreds of voices bark along in unison to a surprisingly touching, lifting effect. Then: the title-track of their latest endeavour, the stage's backdrop immediately slapping in view the band's new logo - a transition back and fore that progresses throughout the set, where each of Ash's varied career-paths are reflected through paralleling imagery according to the material aired (thus, predictably, a comparably tame, stodgy 'Goldfinger' features the band's '1977' name-stamp).
It's this emphasis on time that hits home just how long they've been with us (after airing one oldie, like a shrivelling grandpa reminiscing on his death-bed, cherub-like vocalist Tim Wheeler has the sheer audacity to sigh, 'Good times...' nostalgically... and this is a man still in his 20s, folks), and how consistently joyous their presence has always been - 'A Life Less Ordinary', 'Envy', 'Walking Barefoot' and unquestionable set-highlight and Ivor Novello award-winner, 'Shining Light', which simply glimmers in charm and swooping majesty, are all modern alt-masterclass.
But where from here? Onward and defiantly, clearly - for the bulk of newer endeavours are sprightly, frenetic and very, very loud. Indeed, current web-only tune, 'Clones' ('This is our current number-one single,' at first proudly announces Wheeler, 'erm, in the download-charts...') is hurtling, all-over-the-shop, mash-up mayhem - spiralling, dirgy riffage and complex chord-changes, resembling more Muse and Motorhead than any prior punk-pop fishing-holes.
'Detonator', meanwhile, is more of the same, kaboom/shakedown schlock with enough robust distortion and crunching hooks to potentially wobble any one of Rik Waller's chubby limbs, 'Won't Be Saved' is a dark, straight-ahead hormonal anthem, while 'On A Wave' with its dual-vox choral wails is a possible hit-single in the making. Save for some suspect lyrical-clichιs in 'Evil Eye' ('... cross the line...', '... shivers running down my spine...', et al) and via a compounded noise freak-out in first set-closer 'Vampire Love', or the pick of the punch, a mighty, ravaging 'Renegade Calvacade', Ash have not only justified their future worth, but left us wagging drooling tongues in the process.
As if we weren't already affirmed, da kidz receive one more pelting - and they're mildly obscure ones too. 'Dark Side, Light Side' from '1977' gets the honour of opening the encores, 'Petrol' off of 'Trailer' follows, and soon-following it's a surprisingly ballistic, rampantly received 'Projects' from the band's (unfairly) disregarded, second album 'Nu-Clear Sounds'. By now, the heat in the room is impenetrable, and it's last-song time. 'What do you wanna hear?' Not that the audience need bother responding - the words 'Burn Baby Burn' have already sauntered on to the screen at the back of the stage, and the band rocket into one last burst of sound that still resonates in the cubic room long after it actually finishes.
Cor, a relief then. You might even dare comment, a pure sensation. Either way, Ash don't look set to be leaving us any time soon - not that we'd allow them to anyhow. No, not after this.
Artists in this article: Ash
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