Yahoo! Music Review

Gig played on 16/09/08

They've been away for so long…almost ten years in fact. And, strangely, the break seems to have done Swervedriver the power of good. While some reunions are awkward, slightly desperate affairs, with the crowd having to come to terms with the fact their teenage heroes have turned into middle-aged men, Adam Franklin and co look the part more than ever. Yes, those dreads have gone, but in their place Franklin sports the receding hairline and beard of a man who's spent too many hours either on the road or under a vehicle. Where once Swervedriver looked like they were dreaming of those endless highways, now it feels like they've come back from them, with a few stories to tell.

And they've still got that sound. If there is a shoegazing chord - and rest assured there is: an open-ended, half-lazy, half-blissed out clang of a chord fed through a Jodrell Bank of effects pedals - then Swervedriver always knew how to add a malevolent edge to it. And there it is, shot right through the bit in "Sandblasted" when they crank it down a gear and unleash a torrent of magnificent, snarling noise. There it is in "Duel", spraying wah wah-ed fuzz like machine gun fire (and doesn't it speak volumes that Swervedriver used wah wah not for loved-up indie dance, but something far darker). And there it is in "Rave Down", ripping the roof off even the most devoted fan's expectations.

Of course, because they were always one step to the side of their shoegazing peers, Swervedriver don't sound particularly dated. There's nothing that could be dismissed as middle-class mimsy on display tonight, just a cacophonous take on classic Americana that was clearly picked-up as an influence by the noisier end of post-rock (from Mogwai right through to the metal fringes with Isis). Certain things don't age - and writing strung-out paeans to endless highways, the smell of gasoline and every nihilist escapist fantasy from "On The Road" onwards are right there at the head of the list.

Swervedriver got it exactly right - but their curse was that they got it right first time. "Son Of Mustang Ford", their finest moment and debut single, sounds astonishing as ever, a car crash at high volume made to feel impossibly romantic. And even though "Rave Down" is equally as immense, the band were left with a template that didn't need tweaking - although they gamefully attempted to do so over the next four albums. Tonight, they dispense with progression and get right back where they belong. A very welcome return.

by Ian Watson