Teenage Fanclub @ Liquid Room, 6 Sep

Live Review by Will Fitzpatrick | 07 Sep 2016

When the aliens finally do arrive, pointing their fancy rayguns in our faces as they demand to see our most valuable cultural artefacts (what are they like, eh?), you suspect that the theory of Teenage Fanclub will be a pretty difficult sell. They’re a bunch of nice men with guitars, you might suggest, playing uncomplicated, mid-paced songs about their feelings. As ever with this band, theory fails to do them justice: what it doesn’t account for is the sheer majesty of their songwriting; the delicate nuances that differentiate one harmony-laden Byrds-esque melody from another; the wonderful alchemy that transcends their rudimentary formula and makes their every chord feel like a scintillatingly warm heartbeat. Still not convinced? Let’s start over.

No one ever referred to Teenage Fanclub as ‘the band that invented love’, but tonight’s performance in the Scottish capital is enough to make you believe that it might just be true. With the set drawn mainly from their mid-90s commercial high point (1995’s Grand Prix and Songs From Northern Britain, released two years later), the adoring room laps up every single moment, from glorious opener Start Again to Norman Blake’s now-traditional xylophone turn on Your Love Is The Place Where I Come From.

As the de facto frontman, Blake is on cheery form throughout, even when explaining how he’s been swallowing his chewing gum all day: “Turns out it’s a powerful laxative,” he laughs. “So let’s see how that goes, eh?” Fortunately for all concerned, there's no discomfort evident as he takes the lead on an understated It’s All In My Mind, and later adopts an immaculate falsetto to flesh out The Concept’s Big Star-inspired coda. Halfway between man-in-the-pub charm and avuncular uncle, he’s a warm presence in an already pretty-damn-warm environment.

His songwriting cohorts may be quieter on the patter front, but their contributions are no less vital. Gerard Love is the pop hookmaster par excellence; Sparky’s Dream and I Need Direction are obvious soaring highs for beery singalongs, whereas Raymond McGinley is more engimatic. His songs tend to be more thoughtful and restrained (although My Uptight Life positively comes alive tonight), but elsewhere he’s the one with the guitar chops, flitting between tasteful jangles and J Mascis-inspired axe hero moments.

There’s even time to delve into some of the highlights from not-yet-released latest album Here, with the audience throwing just as much enthusiasm behind I’m In Love and Thin Air as behind the highlights from the Fannies’ impressive repertoire. Despite their modest outlook, it’s all delivered with such a sense of mastery that it’s hard to do anything other than fall for ‘em entirely.

Closing, as usual, with debut single Everything Flows, the audience’s disappointment is palpable as they realise just how quickly the 90-minute set has breezed by. No glitz, no flash, no glamour, Teenage Fanclub are adored for simply being masters of their craft, and their evident, contagious comfort within those confines just makes ‘em all the more loveable. And as for those aforementioned aliens, just point ‘em towards the band’s own explanation of their subtly sophisticated charms: ‘Here is a sunrise. Ain’t that enough?’

http://teenagefanclub.com