...And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead

Ten years ago Rival Schools were, rightly or wrongly, spoken of in some critical quarters of doing a Nirvana, of rising to a level of popularity that few rock bands manage, however long their careers. The band’s debut album, United By Fate, was the product of two years’ work, preceded by many more members spent in several underground outfits – not least of all Quicksand, fronted by Walter Schreifels, who’d also been a creative force in both Youth of Today and Gorilla Biscuits. The signs were, seemingly, in place for a substantial breakthrough: beneath-the-radar band comes good in a big way. But United By Fate stalled at 174 on the UK albums chart, and the band would splinter apart another two years later.

And why does the history lesson matter? Because tonight, in a not-nearly-full Electric Ballroom, Rival Schools are a band out of time, detached from modernity despite the release of their long-overdue second LP, Pedals, in March. They are tired-sounding, stiff on stage, dispossessed of the energy that drove their first album’s best songs. Walter kindly introduces the newer numbers, with a smile that’s not fully reciprocated despite our best wishes for these returning could-have-been-heroes; but he needn’t bother, as the gulf in the quality of the material is patently evident. Only one of Pedal’s songs, ‘Shot After Shot’, really leaves an impression – and that’s largely because it’s a ringer for ‘The Switch’ from the first LP. Other new tracks bear an uncanny resemblance to The Killers, occupying that same indie-pop-rock middle ground that’s hard to cultivate dislike in, but equally tough to muster any excitement for the fruits born of such complacency. Inevitably they finish with ‘Used for Glue’, arguably their hit; those with nostalgia in their veins go off for it, but for us at the back, who perhaps prefer to remember this band as they were, it’s a hollow rattle where once this four-piece roared with an uncommon confidence.

…Trail of Dead don’t care to stand on ceremony, and don’t alert the audience – now a little more swelled, but far from sell-out in size – to tracks from their own album of 2011, Tao of the Dead. In fact, they barely utter a word that isn’t a lyric, and the effect becomes mesmeric, Conrad Keely and Jason Reece flanked by new recruits to the cause but sounding every bit as energised as they did when touring Madonna back in 2000. With seven full-length collections in their catalogue, Keely and company have plenty of cult classics to call upon; and, predictably enough, leave some unsatisfied by skipping on a handful of favourites. (No ‘Mistakes & Regrets’? Whaaa…?) But few long-standing fans are noticeably disheartened, given that when this band elects to rage, it’s certain that it’s not just this block that will hear it. And sure enough, …Trail of Dead go to work with admirable consistency and enduring creativity, their latest offerings sounding every bit as essential to the average rocker’s record collection as the contents of Source Tags & Codes did in 2002.

Tao of the Dead has been received, almost across the entirety of the critical spectrum, as the Texan band’s finest work since their 2002 major label debut – and on the evidence presented here tonight, where ‘Summer of All Dead Souls’ cracks and sparks with every mercury-bubbling Kelvin felt when they’re ploughing through ‘Relative Ways’, ‘Will You Smile Again?’ and ‘Caterwaul’, it’s hard to argue against the blanket opinion. …Trail of Dead, in a set that’s over in a heartbeat (though the early curfew allows for a cheeky after-show pint), show their fellow post-millennium rock-royalty-that-never-quite-were how to age brilliantly disgracefully: ditch the conservatism and mess with the programme, retune the senses and hardwire a new design. Do your own thing, your own way, outside of the machinations of major labels and boring boardrooms. Because if you don’t, that anticipated comeback of yours could be every bit as warmly welcomed as a Train b-sides compilation. Shame nobody had the foresight to tell Walter and friends this a year or so ago, really.

Photo by @craigdirt (via Flickr)