Reverend And The Makers

Jon McClure cuts an imposing figure. As the brooding, low hum of the organ begins to rise, the man they call The Reverend (probably Rev, or more helpfully, Jon to his mates) saunters onstage with his hood up, specs on, and stoic glare firmly fixed in place. With an Ian Brown shake of the fist he nods to the organ, instigating a flurry of shape–throwing synths and pulsing bass that will continue, almost entirely unabated, for the next forty minutes. After the defiant choruses of 'The State Of Things' and 'Heavyweight Champion Of The World' fade away, one key fact becomes apparent…

As with recent touring buddies and bezzie mates Arctic Monkeys, there is a discrepancy between the words being sung and the music being played. Quite simply, the lyrics are of such a higher quality than the music they ride with. Yet unlike Alex Turner, whose stunning lyrical streams are regularly matched musically - see 'The View From The Afternoon' and 'A Certain Romance' – McClure’s witty recollections of Last Night™ and his authoritative statements of intent seem wasted on these stagnant skanks and grooves that at best sound like a fierce update of the ‘Mondays and at worst, a tribute to The Music. It’s a good job that the band are very tight and their devotees are having a dance or this could have been dreary.

A mid-set recitation by celebrated punk-poet John Cooper Clarke - or, as some over-excited haircut behind me guffaws, ”John Cooper Clause!” - might be more of an indication of the route The Reverend is destined to take. As it turns out, tonight we’re left with a guy who can write sharp lyrics and a band that can really play. It’s a shame then, that at the moment, Reverend And The Makers haven’t got the tunes together.