Live Review: Barns Courtney - Trinity Arts Centre, Bristol 10/10/2019
On a cold and rainy evening in Bristol — but this is England, so what more could you expect — the English-American, bluesy-rock and all around legend Barns Courtney visited Trinity Centre, with the incredible — if uniquely bizarre — Will and the People supporting.
On a tour promoting his new album, 404, Barns’ tour spans 18 dates, with the UK side culminating in Camden’s Electric Ballroom, and Bristol Trinity marks the third night of the tour — and boy were they happy to have him there.
First up, though, was the mad and crazily good Will, and his bandmates in Will and the People. Emerging onto the stage clad in only some dark navy Crew boxer shorts — remarking later into the set that he’d wear less if he was allowed — with his signature mop of blonde hair and almost possessed eyes, they looked slightly out of place in the stage.
Until they started playing.
From the opening chords of Justify — a song written and recorded in the space of a day, as well as the music video released the next day on Instagram — the band oozed talent, class and pure brilliance. Justify is a haunting track, shaped by its addictive, wordless singing that makes up around half of it, with the first verse spoken word and the second a bizarre blend of harmonies that strangely works. On paper, the song shouldn’t be particularly good. But live? Live, it’s one of the best songs I’ve ever heard. It’s a rocky, roaring, emotional few minutes of just pure excellence, and it’s only fault is that it isn’t out yet to buy or stream. With wide eyes almost spasming at the energy put in, and the manic energy expressed throughout, it was incredible.
Here, he apologises to the crowd — kind of. “I apologise in advance if I kick you in the face” perhaps not being the most sincere apology ever heard, but it’s true nonetheless — with the almost acrobatic leaps and bounds across the stage it’s almost inevitable to happen at some point. Straight away, then, the band launches into one of the few songs of the night that have been released: Trustworthy Rock. A lot more acoustic than Justify, and also a lot more traditional — if such a word can ever be applied to a man wearing boxer shorts in November, and a band who recently had a near-headline slot at Hempfestival in Amsterdam — it’s catchy and just plain great fun. Which, to be frank, is the same description you could give to every one of their songs. Looking around the crowd both during and after, every single person at the gig was struck with almost inanely large grins.
Then came their latest single, Gigantic, a genuinely beautiful ballad, which starts as an acoustic number before having the band break in after the chorus, with sweeping drums and harmonies galore; it’s actually impossible not to enjoy.
At the end of this, he explains his... questionable and unique attire: “It’s pretty liberating wearing boxer shorts on stage, I just can’t be fucked to put anything on” — which, to be honest, is as good a reason to do anything as any other, in a world characterised by societal constraints.
Up next came another genuinely lovely song, if the lyrics are slightly more risqué: Yesterday. A fast-paced, anthemic tune, with an uplifting message behind it, about moving on from mistakes in the past and looking forward to the future — or, in his words, ‘Fuck Yesterday’. Straight after came a rather bizarre song, even for them, called Lost Myself — with a rather jazzy guitar riff running through, it enabled Will to show off some dance moves, culminating in (purposefully) collapsing onto the floor during the chorus. It also pays homage to the nursery rhyme of Ring a Ring o’ Rosie — if having slightly more adult lyrics!
Next up was their next single, to be released at the start of November: Started on Love. A song personifying various emotions, it’s surprisingly heartfelt and poignant — and erupts later in, with drums breaking in and vocals screeched. Personally I can’t wait for its studio release.
After, he utters some of the best words ever heard at a gig, directed towards some members of the audience talking over one of his songs: “No, keep on talking louder. Fuck it — wanna come on stage and dance?” It’s a credit to both Will and the band, both for how he dealt with people talking over his set, and how he involved his fans (who did promptly climb on stage to dance).
Shame, that song, is probably the hardest of the set to dance to; it’s a genre-defying few minutes of electrifying fun, going from speedy, stichomythic lyrics shaped by the band’s wonderful harmonies, to a slow, almost contemplative bridge, and finally a crazed, screamed chorus — with a strange, whistled segment towards the end. It’s just plain insanity, and it’s just plain brilliant.
Next was their last single before Gigantic, back from 2016 — Wasting Time. Another lovely song, though a misleading title given how much everyone was enjoying their brief 45 minutes on stage.
Finally, came Animals. There’s not much to say about this song, other than how great and fun it is, like the rest. Rather, it’s Will’s actions that are particularly noteworthy. During the last minute or so, he announces he wants to crowd surf: “I’m slippery like a fucking eel so if I jump you better fucking catch me’. He then proceeds to back off into the depths of the stage, before having a running up and actually, physically launching himself at the crowd. It could have easily gone wrong, but instead it was easily the highlight of their set.
Exiting to a raucous and rabid round of applause, the band left the audience to their own devices for a short time; a chance to grab some water, some merch — where Will himself waited to greet his fans — and a short breather.
Then Barns and his band came on.
The first thing you need to know about Barns Courtney, for anyone who has yet to see him live, is that he has an insanely cool fashion sense. That might seem a minor detail, especially when concerned with seeing gigs and talking about bands’ tours and whatnot, but when it’s Barns, it’s different. Prancing onto the stage in a bright red jacket emblazoned with 404, the title of his recent second album, he was rock personified. His live performance is simply incomparable when it comes to showmanship; during his opening number, Fun Never Ends from said second album, he was almost falling into the crowd in attempts to grab as many upraised hands from the crowd as possible; spinning around like a possessed helter-skelter, microphone hanging from his mouth — simply oozing endearing, loveable confidence. And that’s all in the first song!
By the second, the ecstatically catchy London Girls, with its bizarre yet ear-worm of a melody, it was obvious we were in for a show. Between his headbanging, which already was starting to result in a glistening gleam of sweat over his bare chest, and the flashing red lights of the staging, the second album was having the same brilliant reception as the already established debut.
Though, of course, as good as the second album is, it still was nothing compared to the first set of songs released, as seen by the next track, Hands. Glistening with sweat, and not even ten minutes in, Hands is a lovely track, which the audience loved; but the best part about it was comfortably the casual harmonica solo towards the end. It’s always a delight when harmonicas break out, and it produced a beautiful blues melody over the band’s accompaniment — before being tossed unceremoniously off stage.
After the uniquely named Hobo Rocket, featuring Barns beating his chest like a Silverback protecting his territory — a ridiculous idea, given Barns’ uncontested ownership of the stage — and the beautiful Never Let You Down, with its explosive and elegant instrumental section, came a little more of an introspective interlude in the set.
But first, another hysterical crowd engagement, by Barns this time rather than Will. A heckle emerged from the crowd, with a guy shouting up “we love you Barns Courtney!” — his response was pure class. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry. I love you too... sir?” His brilliant, mega-watt grin shining over the crowd, his happiness blatantly obvious, he was positively glowing. Which made the prelude to his next song rather poignant. Before embarking into Hands, he explained its story: that he wrote the song when on job seeker’s allowance, after being dropped by his label and barely managing to scrape by. So to go from that to playing 18 dates, all holding hundreds of people singing back every word, was inspiring.
Hands, for the record, is a lovely song. Starting on just acoustic guitar, it slowly ramped up, with Barns distinctive voice captivating his audience, before the slow introduction of a soft drum beat, at which point the rest of the band joined in. It was very much his song.
After came what is comfortably his darkest and bluesiest song still on his setlist: Champion. Driven by a slow, pounding beat and his husky, crooning voice, it was a welcome change, full of foot stomping goodness and heavy breathing down the microphone; you could actually feel the guitar riffs down to your core. It was intense, and it was a welcome addition to the setlist, which in recent years hasn’t featured (at least in the UK).
Straight after, Barns and his boys broke into a nice instrumental transition — though taking a break to do the typical left-crowd-versus-right-crowd scream competition, featuring electric guitar windmills, with Barns the eclectically and eccentrically brilliant maestro — before it devolved into the hit single Glitter & Gold, which recently achieved new echelons of fame as the theme tune to the Netflix hit show, Safe. The cacaphonic instrumental section broke straight into the opening line and screams of excitement. It seemed slightly slower than usual, though; very controlled.
Until the end, of course, with the almost obligatory chanting of the chorus rising up from the crowd almost deafening in its all-encompassing nature.
Here came a nice string of his three new singles; Hollow, You and I and “99”. Not as many people were singing along to these, presumably due to the album’s relative newness, but it was still as enthusiastic a response, reflecting that the love was for the main himself rather than his songs: even if, to quote, he considers himself “way too unfit for this job”. Well, if Barns is too unfit, I don’t think anyone could be. During his headbanging — still going throughout most songs — it was possible to actually see the sweat flying off of him, droplets illuminated by the floodlights. “99”, especially, was lovely, having been dedicated to some high school friends who were there that night.
The final three tracks are all old ones, and all firm favourites; Golden Dandelions, Kicks and, rather obviously, Fire.
Golden Dandelions, a tale of pure love that twists and turns, corrupted, over time, is as emotionally stirring as it sounds; but it’s nothing compared to either that came after.
After downing a bottle of water, with some poured over himself, and ripping off his jacket — to screams and cheers, particularly by (but not limited to) to the female members of the crowd — Kicks roars into being. Like a preacher leading his chorus, gyrating on stage like a man possessed, it’s Barns at his most energetic; even his brief moment of respite was used to crowd surf, like a prostrated angel, and it’s no wonder that at the end he physically collapsed, laughing and almost delirious, physically spent. At least, until starting Fire.
Known most notably for its inclusions on an array of films and TV shows, such as Chef starring Jon Favreau, and the now Amazon Prime owned Lucifer, it’s the song that introduced Barns to most of his fan base, and it’s a belter.
Jumping up and down like a pogo stick — though nothing compared to, after having to wear a cast post-jumping onto concrete from stage in America, his actual pogo-hopping on one-leg for a slew of shows — it had all the same frantic energy as Kicks, if slightly fewer acrobatic antics. It’s end, though, is both inimitable and typical for Barns, coming into the crowd and creating a wave of heads leaping for the stars around him at his command; from crouched, hands on the floor, to midair and hands outstretched, trying to mirror even some of his frenzy.
As always, a stunning show by the brilliant Barns, and one that’s hard to ever match.
Words by James O’Sullivan and Photography by Alice Sutton
