Playlouder - Music is the Network

Well, what to expect from London’s (or New Zealand’s) The Veils?

To their discredit, unfairly perhaps, they were introduced to me by an acquaintance of questionable taste who can occasionally be found writing on this particular website, but generally only when there’s a new (or preferably old) Supergrass release to come to grips with (i.e. shower with praise).

The Veils, The Veils – I remember The Veils being the only band on the cassette he made me some years ago that I 

a) liked 

b) hadn’t already heard of 

But they were tarred with the 90s Britpop brush in a way that doesn’t often tend to come out in the wash.

So, if you’re aware of their work, it’ll come as no surprise to you how confused I was upon seeing them live for the first time. None of The Delays’ meandering jangly-indie pop or The Thrills’ irritatingly-summery harmonising; The Veils recall the rock ‘n’ roll and swamp rock of the late 60s and early 70s more readily than any of the many fads in (my) living memory.

The passion and musicianship that comes through bears no resemblance to the faded memories I have of their early work; whether this is chiefly to do with singer-songwriter Finn’s shake-up of the line-up, the band’s hiatus in New Zealand, the years of practice in-between now and then, or simply my own lazy, hazy memory, I couldn’t presume to speculate.

This is the third night of a four night… residency, I suppose you’d say, in the Enterprise by Chalk Farm. It’s a square, sweaty room with sagging, shaking floorboards, and it gives one the impression of being packed into the party room in steerage on board (for want of a less disastrous but equally famous craft) The Titanic.

The atmosphere is electric, and as unpredictable and at times as dangerous as that suggests: there are numerous false starts and/or fuck-ups and Finn, masking frustration with apparent calm, rasps something like “How much did you pay to get in? Five pounds? Well, I guess it’s not so bad then…”

Inevitably, there’s a gap between the perfection an artist aspires to in his self-perception, and the reality of the reception of his work. Tonight, though, the audience seems to be having a much better time than the band, who, for the build-up at least, seem merely to follow Finn’s lead; and he’s a formidable front man: as classic as he is incongruous, as cool as he is clueless. He has the unfortunate credentials of a genuine rock star. And, more fortunately, a voice at turns savage and sublime.

Moving into the middle there’s more of an intuitive performance on tracks whose solid structures allow them to be ripped apart and stitched back together live in a way that would leave lesser works sounding hollow, but gives a bite to The Veils’ bark.

Towards the end there’s a slower new song called something like ‘Next to the Fire’: drenched in sweat and tears, it shows real promise for the (presumably) forthcoming third album.

And pretty soon they’ve stormed off stage, and this, their third sell-out show in the venue, has come to a close; and your pretty sure they aren’t coming back, despite the clamouring crowd.

They come across as pretty volatile, do The Veils, but when in full swing are more than capable of pricking the skin and drawing blood.

They’re back to finish their quadrumvirate at the Enterprise on the 24h of June. I advise you to book now; I left it late enough, there’s no reason for you to leave it any later.