Wolfmother - London Cargo - 8/3/05
4/5
By: Lauren Gallagher
Gnarling, trudging riffs bigger than your mom's 70's platforms. A lead-guitarist/singer who, sporting an orbital afro and candy-striped bellbottoms, looks like he wrote a book called 'A White Boy's Guide to Being Fly.' Doors-esque keyboards. Even their name screams old school.
So Wolfmother could easily be played out on any American 'classic rock' station, alongside Zep and Sabbath, with most listeners surprised to find out that they are a 21st century band - who're NOT ageing former heroin addicts on their last legs.
'Dimension' stomps fiercely, with more abominable determination than a horizon-spanning fascist army, and, fittingly, drops heavier than a two-tonne bomb. Andrew Stockdale's bluesy guitar solos pepper the entire set, his vocals on 'Woman' also boasting more than a heartful of soul. A punky racket opens 'Apple Tree', meanwhile, before it winds down to a slow grind of throbbing bass and wailing - then they stir it all up again for a final, exhilarating crash and bash. Elsewhere, the ambient embers often breed guitar intrusion so surreal it feels as if beads of mercury are trickling down your back in slow motion. Woah.
Stockdale performs with a cool ease, neither brash nor boring; and his bells flew with confidence, not unjustified cockiness. He, along with drummer Myles Heskett and bassist/keyboardist Chris Ross, form an assured trio full of fresh gusto not yet jaded by their surrounding hyperbole.
Yet you might still be asking - do we really need another revival rock rehash? Judging by the overwhelming response for an encore (unexpected by the modest band, who peer from backstage in disbelief) - when it's this sublimely executed - why, yes, yes we do. Air-guitar fiends get ready; let Wolfmother rawk your stratosphere.
Artists in this article: Wolfmother
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