The late afternoon sun streams down the stairs to the basement 100 Club, casting a sense of unreality over the show. It fits Spear Of Destiny perfectly: for a band to have achieved so much in a career spanning four decades while still remaining unknown aside from their cult fanbase is so unreal. Those who’ve followed Spear Of Destiny over the years, from tiny clubs to sharing the stage with U2 at Wembley Stadium, are happily crammed into the front of the stage to hear their heroes play a very special show. Tonight is a celebration of the b-sides, the songs that didn’t quite make it into Spear Of Destiny’s extensive back catalogue. These hidden gems, with just a tiny amount of polish, add a shine to a set from a band who are still walking their own path through the rock world, no matter what any one else says.
The best part of a compilation shuffled in front of your eyes that you get a microcosm of the band’s entire career. Radio Radio’s pop delicacy crushed under punk boots is tempered with surprisingly choral gang vocals and rough optimism before we veer into Strangers’ dramatic chords and revving excitement, it’s angelic reverb piercing through a darker sense of menace. Not only do these refreshed updates hold value for their long time fans, but for a casual listener? They’re a perfect primer. We’re into electronica propelled by sax through Embassey Song’s military beats and call and response, before Outlands’ consistent idiosyncratic groove and well-word, road salted charm.
“[It’s a] bit like Taylor Swift,” jokes frontman Kirk Brandon of his re-recordings, but that’s where the similarities are shaken off. The lonely songs, the ones that speak of dark nights and embrace the blues, are the ones that bring goosebumps to your arms. When March Or Die hits with vocals like ritual incense over deep digging beat, we start to grasp what Spear Of Destiny have been capable of all along. Just like their biggest hit, Never Take Me Alive, Brandon’s vocal stretches combined with empty snare fill the venue with outlaw energy, and Pumpkin Man bursts with folkish glory, lit by small guitar touches and dominated by hollow snare. Hands shoot up as we burst into song, never too old to re-listen to our private favourites brought to light.
When they’re quiet and personal, we fall silent too, hushed by awe. Brandon dedicates Warleigh Road to a longtime friend who passed away, the organ touches gentle and his gruff voice rendering the lyrics almost into spoken word poetry before a roaring guitar solo breaks the stillness. We’re already into the encore and Spear Of Destiny are determined to finish strong, with Soldier Soldier’s daring power stance and wall of rapid fire rock power before Liberator draws a roar from the crowd like a welcome stranger. It’s an enigmatic and far-reaching set, drawing on a lifetime of experiences, and proof that a band draws cult status for a reason. Spear Of Destiny are still brimming with passion and determination, with a whole host of reworked songs that are dying for renewed appreciation, and a perfect way to finish a Sunday night.
Review of Spear Of Destiny at the 100 Club, London on Sunday 11th May by Kate Allvey, photography by Louise Phillips.
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