Gomez

No longer riding the wave of publicity that temporarily sweeps along every Mercury Music Prize winning act, Gomez’s return in 2002 has been a low key affair. With an album of new material to explore, the musicianly five-piece return to the city where the most distinctive member of their line-up was unearthed.

Ben Ottewell still looks like a trainee accountant, still sings like a weather-beaten blues veteran, and remains the most potent weapon in the band’s sonic arsenal. The element of surprise has vanished now, of course - you know exactly what is about to follow as he opens his mouth - but whenever the Ottewell roar surfaces during tonight’s performance, on lead or backing vocals, it provides Gomez with their most spine-tingling moments.

As if to demonstrate their customary three-pronged vocal attack, Ian Ball opens proceedings with the current single ‘Shot Shot’. Before you can say “Tom Waits rip-off”, Ottewell launches into the magnificent ‘Rex Kramer’, with Tom Gray – already looking suitably hammered – picking up the baton for ‘Love Is Better Than A Warm Trombone’.

As expected, songs from the new LP, ‘In Our Gun’, feature heavily in tonight’s set. Some work better than others. ‘Sound Of Sounds’ is one of the most heartfelt things Gomez have written, and stripped down on stage it is more poignant than ever. By contrast, the doubled-up electronic rhythms of ‘Detroit Swing 66’, difficult enough to fathom on the studio version, make for a messy, over-intricate live rendition.

Much of the new material is shorter, sharper than the bluesy musings of ‘Bring It On’ and ‘Liquid Skin’. This presents a bit of a problem if you are hell-bent on shoehorning enough ideas for a seven minute song into one lasting under half that time. Gomez are capable of successfully doing both complexity and brevity, but not, on this evidence, at the same time.

Noticing the rather static crowd, Gray - by now completely inebriated - takes it upon himself to introduce an element of audience participation. We are invited to join in the clapping on ‘Las Vegas Dealer’, shout “Come back!” at the appropriate points during ‘Ruff Stuff’ (“Sorry if this is a bit Butlins”), and the atmosphere inside the almost entirely seated venue warms considerably.

The turning point is ‘Here Comes the Breeze’. Its universal familiarity obviously helps, but the decision to extend it to a vibrant eight minute jam, orchestrated by Tom Gray - at this point having the time of his life - is a masterstroke. “Send a little message to ya”, Gray encourages, “Gonna get out of our heads!”. He already is.

More old favourites follow. ‘Revolutionary Kind’, ‘78 Stone Wobble’, and a stunning Ben Ottewell performance on ‘Free To Run’. The final encore is ‘Whipping Piccadilly’. The line “Rolling into Sheffield tonight”, helpfully flagged up in advance by Ian Ball, is loudly cheered. People dance! Just when it seemed Gomez were onto a loser, they finally came out fighting.