If rock ‘n’ roll is indeed fundamentally about sex, then The Von Bondies are experts at foreplay. When they finally take to the stage – after a lengthy wait pitched perfectly between teasing and contempt – it’s wreathed in dry ice and to a cheeky blast of Michael Jackson’s "Thriller". They’ve always displayed considerable panache, but humour and flash have never really been The Von Bondies’ thing. Not until tonight, that is.
They plunge in with "Lack Of Communication" - whose tribal drum rolls, darkly urgent guitar and throbbing bass underline why that garage rock tag is so hopelessly inadequate – and it’s immediately apparent that the Detroit four-piece is here to have fun. Floppy-fringed, fine-boned frontman Jason Stollsteimer has a dramatically expressive, deep-blues voice that ranges from unhinged jabbering to a broken-hearted croon and is clearly a fan of Little Richard-style theatrics. He falls suddenly to his knees at one point, plays guitar behind his head at another and stretches out "Rock ‘n’ Roll Nurse" to near orgasmic fullness with a deeply cute, call–and-response routine that is more hammy than any Spanish butcher’s shop but still has the front rows in a frenzy.
In a set that draws equally from their UK debut, "Lack Of Communication" and the more recent "Pawn Shoppe Heart", it’s obvious The Von Bondies are more beguiled by the ‘roll’ than the plain, ordinary rock. They take their cues from early British R&B outfits like Them and The Animals, cutting their sound with the swampiness and swagger of The Cramps and The Gun Club and the surf-splashed twang of Dick Dale to produce a sexy, mean, but coolly casual sound.
"No Regrets" is a bitchin’ brew of Elvis, Led Zeppelin and The Cramps, "Been Swank" (a little joke that riffs on the name of one of the Soledad Brothers) a seductive surge with dark undercurrents, the swooping and thrillingly atypical "C’mon, C’mon" like The Smiths with sharp teeth and a libido, "Not That Social" a neat take on bubblegum punk in which both bassist Carrie Smith and guitarist Marcie Bolen step up to the mic, "Mairead" a deliciously dark melodrama that has every female in the house hoping someday someone will write a song like that just for her. As if.
In the meantime, The Von Bondies’ lascivious, slightly dangerous, sweet lurv handouts will have to do them. A damned fine option, all things considered.
