Issue 43 / April 2014

THE PRESIDENTS OF THE
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
The Front Bottoms
East Village Arts Club
THE PRESIDENTS OF THE UNITED STATES OF
AMERICA were never really critics’ darlings.
Arriving at the tail end of grunge they drifted
towards absurdity and the borders of novelty
rather than grand artistic statement; while Kurt
Cobain was screaming his way into the hearts
of the disaffected, The Presidents were writing
songs about a cat stealing their food, complete
with meows. Yet here we are twenty years on,
and The Presidents are as popular as ever: EVAC
is at capacity and new album Kudos To You!
reached its crowd-funding target in a mere
nine days. Amongst the ludicrous puerility it’d
seem as though they must have been doing
something right.
Setting the stage, THE FRONT BOTTOMS supply
the anguish The Presidents never had, along with
a hectic blend of pop punk and emo that seems
more at home in the suburban garages of their
native New Jersey than inner-city Liverpool. They
don’t let that bother them though, with Brian
Sella’s angsty vocals howled with the confidence
of a performer twice his age, atop Mathew
Uychich’s drums performed with a ferocity akin
to Travis Barker. It’s a cacophonous noise, and
though the mix occasionally muddles amongst
the volume, when Ciaran O’Donnell’s surprisingly
delicate guitar shines through, it does so with
something special, exemplified in the earworm
riffs of set-closer Twin-Size Mattress.
As The Presidents run onto stage to the theme
from Chariots Of Fire – in slow-motion, of course –
it would seem as though that’s it for the heartfelt
stuff. A mere “How’s it going?” from vocalist Chris
Ballew (48, balding, still in cargo shorts) is enough
to evoke rapture from the crowd, before the trio
launch into a cover of MC5’s Kick Out The Jams.
From the very beginning the band aren’t letting
up, and neither are the crowd, who are moshing
and singing throughout along to every meow.
After a well-received but less than spectacular
performance of their biggest hit Peaches, the
group begin their encore with a version of Video
Killed The Radio Star so bizarre that it borders on
the farcical, before a reprise of Kick Out The Jams
concludes the set.
Ballew, along with drummer Jason Finn and
guitarist Andrew McKeag, performs with an
infectious, childlike enthusiasm – “We made
a record!” he shouts with a doltish grin as he
holds up a copy – but this betrays a real musical
proficiency on all parts. While there’s nothing
revolutionary about their sound, every jump,
whoop and pause seems perfectly calculated
to add to an already exciting atmosphere. With
more-than-dodgy dance moves from band and
crowd alike (and at least one Nickelback T-shirt
on display amongst the latter), this is far from
a cool gig, but it’s this freedom from pretence
that carries it. Everyone in the room is there for a
good time and nothing more, and The Presidents
Of The United States are in many respects the
perfect group to provide it.
Patrick Clarke / @paddyclarke
KELLEY STOLTZ
The Cubical – AJHD
Harvest Sun @ The Shipping Forecast
In 1967, San Francisco became the epicentre
for the post-war social revolution that was The
Summer of Love. Morals were loose, love was
free and KELLEY STOLTZ was brought into the
world. Well, roughly then. Fast-forward fortyish
years to the basement of a Liverpool pub and
Stoltz is unleashing his psychedelic garage upon
an audience that is perhaps unaware of the
perennial implications of such an event on the
man from San Fran. For Stoltz himself tonight is a
significant occasion given his love for Liverpool,
brought about by a lifelong obsession with Echo
& The Bunnymen. Piercing the veil of this fateful
evening, AJHD (AKA Alastair Dunn and Dave Tate)
warm things up with some melancholic indie
guitar work, shortly before THE CUBICAL blow
through a typically rambunctious set. For tonight
though, the first main order of business is Stoltz’s
new Third Man-released record Double Exposure
– a catalogue of hazy love letters set to right-on
swathes of lo-fi rhythm guitar. To this end, he
wastes no time launching into opener Storms,
deigning to thank the support with his nasal
pool of a voice. It’s cold, we’re in a basement, but
the spirit of ’67 by the Bay is channelling itself via
a breeze of synth.
Half an hour in and Stoltz has taken us
into the warm depths of his newest release,
including the feel-good Americana on Are You
My Love?, Marcy and eponymous anthem Double
Exposure. One of the defining features of the set
is the hypnotic throb of killer basslines; a Kelley
Stoltz trademark of quality.
He ends the jaunt with Kim Chee Taco Man, a
would-be ‘jam’ of choice for any beat generation
author. Stoltz and band move into an entr’acte
cover of Link Wray and it appears that things are
coming to a conclusion. But the gig is far from over,
for now Stoltz has more live wizardry to purvey.
Regressing into a husky San Franciscan alter ego,
he starts a bout of ad-lib jazz poetry accompanied
by his saxophonist. A metaphysical journey over
the Golden Gate Bridge to “Sean Penn’s house”
hits the crowd in all the right places, a stunning
testament to Stoltz’s showmanship. Rounding
things off, a joyous version of Cheap Trick’s
Surrender is as well received as his own material
and leaves the audience on a natural high, fifty
storeys high to be exact. Stoltz’s lunar eclipse of
an appearance in Liverpool marks him as one
of the great performers of his genre. A leader
of the west-coast garage psych movement, the
consummate enjoyment of artist and audience