The House Of Love

As one of the least feted comebacks of the year, it would have been no surprise to expect a low key affair when The House Of Love - or more to the point Guy Chadwick and Terry Bickers - share a stage for the first time in a decade and a half.

So imagine my shock at turning up at the venue before 8.30 to find Saint Joan halfway through their set, the reason being that Chadders and co. wish to herald their return by playing a long set encompassing just about everything they've ever committed to vinyl.

Which is a shame for Saint Joan, as a lot of punters are still making their way to the venue when the haunting spectre of 'Nightmare In E Minor' draws proceedings to a close. Sounding like a less sultry but more eloquent Juliana Hatfield, singer Ellen McGee flits between poignant sigh and bitter lament with consumate ease.

If bands breaking up could be likened to a marriage split, then the acrimonious parting of ways between Guy Chadwick and Terry Bickers would most likely have used its entire seven year itch scrapping through the divorce courts. To say it was unpleasant would be an understatement, not that you'd know there ever was any kind of dispute judging by the knowing glances and cheeky smiles between The House Of Love's long-time estranged songwriting duo.

If anything, the delicate textures of Bickers' guitar and Chadwick's finely honed penchance for making vitriolic statements sound like a detailed reading of the Magna Carta couldn't have failed to touch even the most hard-nosed of the society of emotional retards. Clearly, they have buried the hatchet once and for all, and not in each other's backs (Morrissey and Marr take note) as the sterling 'Maybe You Know' from their recent album 'Days Run Away' disparagingly implies.

Despite a patchy start - Guy Chadwick's vocals could barely be heard on opener 'I Don't Know Why I Love You' - the band really stepped up a gear when the unmistakeable reverb drenched intro to 'Christine' and melancholic chimes of 'Love In A Car' married nostalgic sentiment with a searching element of injustice as to why this band never really hit the upper echelons of the commercial league table back then.

Still, with the pressure seemingly off, Bickers in particular seems more jovial than you'd expect and his constant questioning as to what the audience wants is greeted with shouts for obscure b-sides and album tracks, one of which, 'Safe', is reeled out with a sense of urgency that can only suggest making up for lost time is the order of the day.

At the end of it all, there's a feeling of both elation and closure as one of the most underrated bands of the late 80s indie explosion prove there is a lot of Love in the House again, at long last.

Photographs courtesy of Ian Hales