Live Review: Bear's Den - Eventim Apollo, London 18/05/2022
Bear’s Den: having played the Eventim Apollo just before lockdown, it was only fitting they picked up right where they left off with a second night, too many years later.
But first, the amazing Bess Atwell and the brilliant Benjamin Francis Leftwich as supports!
With a backing track drum accentuating each beat, Bess Atwell and her guitarist, taking up the tiny little circle of the stage lit by the house lights, felt as intimate as they were peaceful. Each gentle, harmonious, acoustic melody felt like a soothing blanket gently covering the Hammersmith crowd. Her soft and steady vocals slowly guided the thousand or so strong audience through her seven song setlist — though sadly wasn’t always impactful enough to cut through the constant stream of loud chatter. Nevertheless, songs such as the beautiful Time Comes In Roses or the reflective and pensive Red Light Heaven, with its swelling, eruptingly emotive chorus, did her proud. Meanwhile, track How Do You Leave, with its penetrative guitar reverberating over the heartbreaking, slightly accusatory vocals, showcased her range; the eventual slow build to an explosive crescendo signified a fantastically impactful way to end the set.
The same staging existed for Benjamin Francis Leftwich, though this time without the extra guitarist. As the special guest for just this London show, much of the crowd was as excited for him as they were for the ursine headliners. And, from those first strummed notes of Pictures, you could see why. Despite his understated appearance — just a man and his guitar — his stature felt enormous. And, as he changed his guitar, the emotion of Tilikum could be felt all the way to the back of the cavernous hall; elsewhere, the painfully brief Oh My God Please and its emotional pleas doubtlessly cause some tears to be shed. That shortness seemed to be a trend as a matter of fact; both cinematic Stole You Away and Shine from 2011’s Last Smoke Before The Snowstorm seemed almost blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, which let him fly through enough beloved tracks to appease fans of both the old and the new but seemed to make it a little tricky for newcomers to endear themselves to respective songs. The fantastic final track Atlas Hands, however, easily garnered the biggest reaction from the crowd — it wouldn’t have been a surprise to see lighters and torches flare up, crowds swaying in harmonious rapture. But, as it turned out, it was only enough for a near-violent volume of applause.
A sudden descending of the house lights, along with the strobe-inducing flashing of blue rectangles (reflecting recent album Blue Hours), are the only indicators the folk favourites have arrived. With the stage bordered by those same blue shapes, chasing after each other as if enraged, the band looked trapped; hammering on a prison of their own creation, the lights glistening off the smoky haze of the stage seeming to create a wall. With seven people on stage, including two trumpeters hidden at the rear, the band were immediately back to form and, even if the vocals were a little muffled, their passion for their craft was a physical presence drifting across the throngs of people adoringly watching.
Second track Red Earth & Pouring Rain, the eponymous title track of their sophomore album, shifted it up a gear — and that’s not just a pun about an album reportedly designed for driving music— before recent single Frightened Whispers, with rocky electronics slithering underneath Andrew Davie’s strong, steadfast vocals, announced to the crowd the truth: Bear’s Den were home.
The fourth song was the first ‘mainstay’ of the set, the heart wrenching and beloved Elysium. Not to mention — the banjos were back. The first (but certainly not last) song from 2014’s Islands, and one of the oldest tracks on the set, it saw the band back to their folkiest roots — before quickly transitioning into possibly the oldest, at least in terms of genuine existence. Only recently officially released, the track All That You Are harks back to the halcyon 2012 days; back when London hosted the Olympics, Boris Johnson was still just Mayor, and Bear’s Den were on their first ever tour: the iconic Austin to Boston tour with fellow Communion heroes Ben Howard, The Staves and of course Nathaniel Rateliff.
2016’s stand alone Berlin was next; another slow, emotional and tranquil ballad — the beautiful lighting framing the stage made them seem like a postcard from another time, before the rapturous applause broke the spell; fellow fan favourite Isaac, straight after, had the venue echoing with the thousands screaming along with every word. Their promise to give ‘all my love to you’ seemed readily returned by the packed Apollo crowd.
Yet, gradually growing quieter and quieter, it was time for that most intimate of moments — the unplugged track. This tour, it’s back to Sophie. A chorus of shushes heralded the band’s gathering around a single microphone, whoops and claps quickly hushed by the people around them; except for one over enthusiastic (or drunk) patron in the Gods, the crowd were as respectful as the band could ever hope as the band quietly, delicately played through the fan favourite.
Quickly shifting back into the louder So That You Might Hear Me’s lead single Fuel On The Fire, the electronics were back; zooming over the red crowd, their pulses gave the song a distinctly nostalgic feel, reflecting more the slow, desperate need to keep the flame alive than the explosive roar the title suggests. New Ways, another new track, saw Davie take to the surprisingly camouflaged piano in centre stage, while the tambourines finally began to emerge; similarly, piano-led Shadows, one of the new album’s leading singles, was as emotionally piercing as you could want from the heartstring tugging veterans.
Speaking of heartstring tugging, it was just about time for the desperate longing of Crow. A song about the duality of grief and hope, Davie took front and centre while the rest of the band, sheltered in the shadows, played as backlit silhouettes. It was definitely his song — his and, of course, the many hundreds in the audience who call it a personal favourite.
After these few slower numbers, the band knew they needed to reinvigorate the crowd — and they had the perfect number for it, with a now-musical-crescendo-including The Love We Stole, as well as the simmering, hopeful, restless intensity of Spiders. The first truly new taste of Blue Hours, released back in January, the track was the first check-in to the conceptual labyrinth they were creating — and the myriad of emotions the track inspires live mirrors the band themselves.
The lighting throughout the set told as strong a story as the lyrics of the song themselves, but it was in Auld Wives that they took on a life of their own. A song about Alzheimer’s, the lights shone directly onto the crowd, blinding them as to the identities of the men on stage; similarly, the stage gradually grew darker as the song went on, as if to mirror a fog descending on the usual brightness. Another Red Earth and the Pouring Rain mainstay, it’s rockiness was greatly received before the ‘final’ song of the evening, the Tennessee Williams-inspired Laurel Wreath. A track exploring toxic masculinity, and about being afraid to be vulnerable, the track is always deceptively upbeat; the only thing missing was perhaps a vulnerable and naked chorus refrain to mirror the message and truly bring it home.
After heading off stage and then coming back on stage — what’s a gig without the fake end? — it was time for the final three songs. First, the anthemic Above The Clouds of Pompeii; the thunderous claps emanating from the packed crowd drowning the band at points seemed simply evidence of a job well done.
Meanwhile, returning to their one microphone for the fantastic Gabriel — with the band struggling to contain their laughter at the resounding shush that echoed around the room — another incredible unplugged track graced the surprisingly silent room, with only the choruses sang along to, and even then almost hesitantly.
But before the final track, Davie took the well-earned opportunity to plug their album:
“We’ve found ourselves in a strange position”, he told us; “we’re kind of in the chart for the first time ever”.
The resounding, seemingly never ending applause at this news was almost comical — even he seemed surprised, left just with a nervously chuckled “umm” in response.
"We’re incredible surprised, and it’s all thanks to you guys. I guess I’m in an awkward position where I have to say if you ever find yourself wanting to buy a record or a vinyl, especially this week, that’d be fucking amazing.”
He then took the chance to thank everyone:
“This is one of our favourite venues — every time we go past it, we have to check who’s playing. Seeing our names on the sign never gets old, and we’ll never take it for granted. Thank you so much”.
A band almost as wholesome as their music, it’s always a shame to see them go — but, of course, there was one song left: the amazing Agape. Agape refers to the idea of unconditional love, and not facial surprise as a very young me once thought; on the brink of being a heart-breaking, heart-broken breakup song, it just about holds on to the cheeriness through both the constant, beloved banjo and the crowd-roaring chorus. Ultimately, a Bear’s Den gig isn’t really a Bear’s Den gig without Agape, and with it came cheering, singing, dancing, clapping, standing — in the case of upstairs, downstairs were already standing — and everything else that signifies a good time at such a lovely gig. The crowd's unconditional love for the band was only matched by the band's love for the fans and for each other, and what else could you ask for?
The gig had its flaws. There’s the subjective of course — a few personal favourites missed from the set, for instance — but also the sound was a little muffled throughout, the vocals all a little muddied. That may have just been a positional thing for upstairs, but still a little unfortunate. But, overall, Bear's Den and friends was an incredible night.
Overall, a fantastic showing of Blue Hours; let’s just hope it doesn’t take another few years to see them back in the Capital!
Words by James O’Sullivan
Photography by Lauren Robey
