Albert Hammond Jr. - Live Review, Wedgewood Rooms

Albert Hammond Jr - A blistering 90 minutes of stylish garage rock

****

The Wedgewood Rooms, Portsmouth

                                       Photo by Charlie Makemson

As per the now-almost blueprint of “going solo”, it’s difficult separating Albert Hammond Jr. from his revered, fascinating past as The Strokes lead guitarist. It’s similarly difficult making this distinction between the music; much of his set tonight, compromised from all three studio albums and sole EP, is extremely evocative of his iconic New York indie outfit. From the stylish, distinctive guitar tones, frantic rhythms or stop-start dynamics, Hammond’s set makes for very familiar territory.

Indeed, you can hear much of The Strokes’s catalogue across the show; Born Slippy’s stalking, heavy groove is particularly reminiscent of Angles’ Machu Pichu, and ‘Rude Customer’s chugging rhythms and scatty guitar leads could of come came straight from the band’s second record Room on Fire. Despite a lengthy set barren of any Strokes material, it’s perhaps testament to Hammond’s importance to the band that their sound should feel so prominent here.

That said, to write off Hammond Jr. as a mere Strokes by-numbers would be at best extremely unfair, and at worst flat-out ignorant; his 90 minute performance stands on its own merit as a blistering set of finely-crafted garage rock. An exceptionally tight live act, the band play the set with quick-fire precision, keeping stage banter to a minimal (“The album was released 2 months ago…” guitarist Hammarsing Kharmar gestures four fingers at him. “Four!?” Hammond replies incredulously. “Four months… where did that time go. Mother Time… you old slut.”), and flying through an extensive set with breathless energy.

The wonderful, inexplicably nostalgic ‘In Transit’ is played to utterly rapturous reception, humorously offset by a drunken punter yelling the song’s title back at him. Then a storming ‘Touché’ followed by an equally breakneck ‘Carnal Cruise’ prove to be the show’s ferocious highlights. Suitably, Hammond’s band make for energetic stage presence; none more so than the haywire Hammond himself, and at odds with The Strokes’s often-static live performances. Clutching his face in his hands and swinging his guitar behind his back, Hammond Jr becomes increasingly wide-eyed and unpredictable as the show progresses. While he occasionally strays into maniacal delivery echoing that of his Strokes frontman Julian Casablancas, he nonetheless proves a captivating frontman of surprising showmanship. That’s not to say it is not all so raucous. Given the quick-fire nature of the set, it may be easy to overlook the fine balance it strikes between its predominant, punchy immediacy and the band’s more restrained, rhythmic tendencies.

What’s perhaps most impressive of all is the effortlessness with which Hammond and his band, all of whom seemingly formidable with their instruments, pull the whole thing off. It makes for an effortlessly slick, stylish and above-all superb 90 minutes.