Live: Shed Seven at Rock City

For my 16th birthday I received three gifts; a pair of blue suede Addidas Campus, a silver ID bracelet engraved with the name of my (mostly imaginary) band, and Shed Seven's Change Giver album.

The bracelet was lost, the trainers are battered almost beyond recognition but still worn, now more comfort than style, but that album, that band, well...some love affairs you never really recover from, do you?

And so, here we are again, eight years after their final Farewell Tour, gladly gathering yet again, this time to mark the 15th birthday of second album 1996's A Maximum High.

Always a reliably solid live band last night Shed Seven are at the top of their game performance-wise right now. Some of that must come from performing songs that they've played live for most of the last two decades but there is also undoubtedly a little of that Shed Seven brash and magic contributing too.

Taking to the stage with album-closer Parallel Lines this was, as you'd expect from what was to all intents and purposes a greatest hits tour, all killer and no filler from the offset. Last night's set took in the highlights from A Maximum High, including a rare live outing for Ladyman, as well as pop-picks from Change Giver and Let It Ride.

Their songs seem swagger toward you like a drunk with a puffed out-chest fisting for a fight but changing tack at the last minute to embrace you and draw you into the hands aloft sway of a sing-a-long. Yes, full of bravado and guts, sometimes bolshy and often underestimated in their ability to lift you with them as they sweep and soar on high.


There's no real surprises here tonight, and I'm not sure the crowd would welcome them if there were. Rick gives the latest score in the Shed Seven vs Spear of Destiny perpetual chase of playing the venue most and gyrates through each number giving full bodied punctuation to the lyrics while Paul Banks unleashes riffs of epic proportions in an unassuming manner belying their beauty.

The addition of a brass section and the reworking of some arrangements cast a new light on old friends while the opportunity for a rowdy and discordant sing-a-long was too great to resist as On Standby, She Left Me on Friday, Disco Down, Ocean Pie, Dolphin and Bully Boy all reported for duty.

The now expected ending comes from a raucous rendition of Getting Better and an encore with a brave and approachable cover of The Smiths' Panic and then the final elevation of the resigned by sanguine anthemic ballad Chasing Rainbows.

In their time Shed Seven were cursed with being seen as a poor man's Oasis with a somewhat unfortunate reputation on occasion for being try-hard but fall-short stalworts of the lower leagues of Britpop. But freed by the passage of time and the demise of those they were unfairly compared to the band show themselves to be what they are, what they always have been - purveyors of fine, anthemic, uplifting and heartwrenching indie-pop delivered with a wry grin and a shoulder to the musical grindstone.

When I last saw them I wrote that I couldn't list a single reason why you should love this band, but that I always would. Two years has changed little on this front. But maybe now I think that's part of their appeal, the mystery of singing every line of every song and feeling broken and comforted all in one go, of looking a band in the eye (literally for me last night due to my proximity to Paul Banks), of knowing that while they can be big and stupid they're also resplendent, proud and sometimes only just shy of glorious.

The pull of nostalgia alone probably can't keep them touring forever but it satiates a craving. It also make me wonder; if they can make these songs sound this good for the umpteenth time how magnificent would something new be?

You can see my amateurish photographs from the night over in this album on Facebook. The tour finishes next week with two dates in York - there are still tickets left if you fancy a slice of Ocean Pie for yourself.