Towers of London - 29th January 2005
Reviewed by Steve Norman
A big reputation to live up to is one thing, but sitting (apparently plastered) in Danny’s Bar two hours before the gig, dressed in the world’s tightest trousers with hair the like of which hasn’t been seen since the glory days of poodle metal, meant Towers of London had to do something special or they’d be laughed all the way back down the M1. And did they do something special!
When they finally swaggered / staggered onstage, the first thing you noticed was that this was a ‘band’ - forget the music for a minute - these guys looked one-hundred percent like a band should (local support acts take note)! Okay, so looking like Poison after a heavy night on the sauce might not be your cup of tea, but how can you not admire that kind of united, total understanding that the band’s image, whatever it is, is most of the battle? And judging by the shocked looks on the faces of much of the young crowd, this, all too sadly, was the glorious first time that they’d come face-to-face with this concept.
Anyway, what was the music like? Think Guns ‘N Roses doing Sex Pistols covers and we’re not far off. But this is no covers band, and whilst you could hear the aforementioned - as well as obvious others from the cock-rock / punk pantheon - influencing some part of every song, their ability to balance the music they love with a completely contemporary creativity gave us an all-too-short glimpse of a new band capable of delivering tracks that one day have every chance of becoming ‘rock classics’ in their own right. Take the new single, ‘On A Noose’ - riffs galore, sing-a-long chorus, and the kind of drumbeat that just makes you want to stomp around like a lunatic Mick Jagger; or put simply, the most rock and roll song I’ve heard in ages!
So we’ve talked about the image and the music, but to make a gig special you have to be able to deliver both of them. To do that, at the very least you need a great frontman. Towers of London have five of them, providing a non-stop - albeit alcohol-fuelled - onslaught of mass guitar poses; spitting at the crowd (classic!); playing solos axe-behind-head; using the bar as a catwalk; randomly mouthing obscenities at individuals in the audience; swinging off the speaker stacks; chucking cans of lager at anyone unlucky enough to be in the firing line; dropping drumsticks to go and stage-dive mid-song (then nonchalantly returning to continue where you left off); band-member names like Tommy Brunette, Donny Tourette and Snell; the strutting; the prancing; the constant energy; the pure ego; the pure arrogance…
Sometimes you’re lucky enough to watch a gig you dare not take your eyes off in case you miss something. It’s not often you get to do it in your own home town.