Superkings

Believe me, a music hack’s work is never done during Manchester’s In the City weekend. It’s huge. So many gigs, so many bands, you’re always concerned you’re going to miss something vitally important to the course of Western music. That said, one has to wade through an awful lot of dross to find a glittering nugget, an edge of which might just peek out from the mud of sonic mediocrity to dazzle invitingly, catching the ear long enough to inspire one to dig a little deeper.

Well, *Superkings *shone in just such a way amongst the scenesters and wannabes in an unfashionably cool kind of way, appearing to deliberately eschew the needs of the assorted fashionista in favour of offering a stylishly dishevelled, yet musically honest, persona; the band has the air of a close-knit collective refreshingly at ease with itself and its musical ethos.

Comprised of piano, cello and guitars and a tight rhythm section, Superkings were a more than welcome half-hour of serious yet totally accessible folk-rock balladry. The band exuded gravitas, with poetic, intelligent lyrics laced around complex, thoughtful, soul-stirring arrangements. The beautiful cello work was incredibly innovative and evocative, quite often stealing the show. The lead singer delivered lyrical gems with a passion and poise in a deep baritone, a richly northern voice reminiscent of Nick Cave, although on some occasions a little vocal indiscipline jarred the scene-setting somewhat. That quibble aside, he effortlessly managed the much harder task of steering the songs just the right side of melodrama, racking up the tension as the band drew us into their world of drink, drugs and dysfunctional relationships.

It’s a rare event indeed when, after the final chord of the set rang out and decayed slowly into the general hum of the crowd, I found myself recalling stirring choruses and memorable, poetic lyrics as if they belonged to songs in my own music collection. After taking a copy of the band’s CD, the songs I met only as brief encounters gradually took on a more definite air of familiarity as I put names to sonic faces, each one displaying a fully-rounded personality of its own, from the haunting ballads of the crowd-silencing opener 'All Things Considered', 'Good To Have You Home' and 'Hit The Ground Running' to the raucous, fast-paced numbers such as 'Ana Stanaway’s Flugelhorn'. But whatever style they cloaked themselves in, Superkings never departed from their core sound which ran through the set like a stick of rock.

It’s refreshing to see a band willingly, purposely ploughing its own musical path while all around seek fame through whatever genre is in vogue. In many ways, although the vocals clearly define the band as a very English affair, with Morrissey and Bowie springing immediately to mind, their musical influences appear to point across the pond, especially to the fertile Canadian scene. But while such musical brethren can often spend too much time contemplating themselves within their own circles, Superkings’ music does wholeheartedly embrace the mainstream, a frame of mind that might well reap future dividends. North American alt-rock imbued with northern grittiness, plus the songsmithery of a UK Paul Simon, on this showing Superkings displayed great potential and are certainly a band worth catching if you get the chance.

Photograph by Kevin Goodall, from the band's MySpace