It’s strange how impervious Britain has been to Spoon‘s charms. It used to be that American alternative bands broke here, then got imported back to the States (think: Kings of Leon). Yet this is a band full of ideas, two decades into their career with two Top 10 US albums under their belt; mention their name this side of the Atlantic and you’ll still draw blanks. Not that they’ve lavished attention on us, either. “Seven fucking years” is how one audience member raises the issue of their lengthy absence from this fair city. The upside of this mutual neglect is you get to see a band capable of playing Hollywood Bowl (as they’re doing later this summer with Belle & Sebastian) in a student union bar.
First surprise of the evening is the support act. He had them on his podcast, so Spoon have returned the favour and let “superfan” Adam Buxton out on tour with them. He does a cobbled together set of video spoofs and here’s-one-I-found-on-the-internet-earlier cyber-commentary, some topical (mocking Justin Bieber at the One Love Manchester benefit), some for our older viewers (the 1985 Scotch videotape ad). The metropolitan, middle-class, middle-aged comedy schtick lands a little awkwardly at a Glasgow rock gig, but he has the imperturbability of a man of that ilk. He presses ahead confidently with a segment on Katy Perry’s Chained To The Rhythm even though the majority of the audience have professed they’ve never heard it, and a metaphor for life based on posh banoffee pie, even though the crowd’s guilty pleasures are probably more alcoholic and not that guilty. It warms up the room with some laughs, while keeping the eardrums fresh for the music.
Spoon arrive to a swell of sound effects and purple light. As a rock band they’re a rarity in how seamlessly they’ve woven electronica into their sound since Alex Fischel joined in 2013. It’s genuine evolution, not modishness. Spoon now have a two-pronged attack (half-way to a fork you might say) – crunchy guitar, sweeping electronics. New album Hot Thoughts is full of the latter. It’s seen here from the off with Do I Have To Talk You Into It? and reaches its zenith with the pulsating modern Krautrock of WhisperI’lllistentohearit. A mid-set Vangelis-y interlude shows they do subtlety as well.
They also have pop chops – the morse-code “do-do-do-do-do-do” vocals of Do You? and the parping brass hook of The Underdog are stand-outs. These are the ones that should have delivered them a wider audience.
Regardless of who’s paying attention, this is a band who seem sure of themselves. Nothing seems over-rehearsed or over-prepared. Slick, yes, but loose. The extended intro to I Turn My Camera On might be deliberate, or it might be to cover frontman Britt Daniel checking something with the roadie. Either way, it works, and the sense that they’re not afraid to adapt as they go adds an edge. In the same spirit, they segue between songs without dropping a beat, without it seeming laboured. Everything flows. Daniel’s solo encore of I Summon You has that same spontaneity and by the time the full band are finishing the show with the clanging Rent I Pay they’ve shown off a powerful arsenal of sound.
There are just two weak spots. Firstly, everything is back-lit, mainly in purple. For most of the gig the band are but silhouettes. Sure, this is music with atmosphere, but it can’t survive on that alone. The band are animated enough that you at least want to see them. Secondly, 2010’s Transference seems to have been ditched, and with it tracks that could have been useful additions to the set. They could remedy both with a repeat visit sometime. Don’t let it be another “seven fucking years”.