Aaron West And The Roaring Twenties (Tufnell Park Dome, 2.1.17)
I hotfooted it into town after work on Thursday for Aaron West and The Roaring Twenties, the country-infused side project of Dan Campbell, The Wonder Years frontman. Sadly I entered the venue just as Katie Malco was playing the closing chords of her set. But she's great and released a lovely Christmas song recently that you can listen to here.
The transition from shouty punk rocker to soulful troubadour has been a well trodden one of late. Thom Weekes of the Brighton hardcore trio Gnarwolves is the latest to walk this path, implying that it was his first ever solo show. It wasn't an unpleasant half hour and I enjoyed his Green Day cover but he currently lacks distinctive songs. But there's certainly potential here and time to build on it.
A surprise third support act came in the form of Rob Lynch, attending the gig as a punter but asked by Campbell to play a short three song set. I'm loosely familiar with Lynch's stuff. He's a touch parochial but with some solid tunes. What I didn't expect was the audacious dropping the chorus of "Atlantic City" into one of his songs. He's no Springsteen, but it was a fun cameo.
Aaron West And The Roaring Twenties' record "We Don't Have Each Other" follows the story of a character called Aaron West and what is described as "the worst year of his life". On stage, Campbell plays the role of West himself, recalling events in the first person. It's a theatrical conceit which allows Campbell to add snippets to the story as the show progresses.
The band opens with "67, Cherry Red", a thrilling continuation of the record's narrative and one of my favourite songs of last year. Certainly it's one of the best songs about selling your dad's car I've heard of late. "Our Apartment", a terrific slowburner of a track, immediately sparks massive singalongs in the crowd. They seldom let up for the duration, leading to a superb rendition of "Divorce And The American South", where West leaves the choruses to us.
Despite this being a relatively rare full band show, the band are tight, the guitars crisp. They shine in particular on "Carolina Coast", a soulful effort that sees West at his lowest ebb. The band close with "You Ain't No Saint", a track with a very Wonder Years sensibility, with all of the urgency I felt was missing from the Koko gig the night before. It's an impressive hour and I hope there's another record to explore Campbell's alter ego.
The transition from shouty punk rocker to soulful troubadour has been a well trodden one of late. Thom Weekes of the Brighton hardcore trio Gnarwolves is the latest to walk this path, implying that it was his first ever solo show. It wasn't an unpleasant half hour and I enjoyed his Green Day cover but he currently lacks distinctive songs. But there's certainly potential here and time to build on it.
A surprise third support act came in the form of Rob Lynch, attending the gig as a punter but asked by Campbell to play a short three song set. I'm loosely familiar with Lynch's stuff. He's a touch parochial but with some solid tunes. What I didn't expect was the audacious dropping the chorus of "Atlantic City" into one of his songs. He's no Springsteen, but it was a fun cameo.
Aaron West And The Roaring Twenties' record "We Don't Have Each Other" follows the story of a character called Aaron West and what is described as "the worst year of his life". On stage, Campbell plays the role of West himself, recalling events in the first person. It's a theatrical conceit which allows Campbell to add snippets to the story as the show progresses.
The band opens with "67, Cherry Red", a thrilling continuation of the record's narrative and one of my favourite songs of last year. Certainly it's one of the best songs about selling your dad's car I've heard of late. "Our Apartment", a terrific slowburner of a track, immediately sparks massive singalongs in the crowd. They seldom let up for the duration, leading to a superb rendition of "Divorce And The American South", where West leaves the choruses to us.
Despite this being a relatively rare full band show, the band are tight, the guitars crisp. They shine in particular on "Carolina Coast", a soulful effort that sees West at his lowest ebb. The band close with "You Ain't No Saint", a track with a very Wonder Years sensibility, with all of the urgency I felt was missing from the Koko gig the night before. It's an impressive hour and I hope there's another record to explore Campbell's alter ego.
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