Christopher Nosnibor
For many so-called ‘heritage bands’, the gig circuit can be trail of diminishing returns – then again, for others, the gigs are bigger now than in their heyday. Nostalgia is a powerful market, but one that often tapers off as the fanbase ages. Our older population may be expanding, but that doesn’t mean they’re all up for gig-going in their retirement years. Spear of Destiny sit in the middle of this range: they’re not playing the 1,500-2,000 capacity venues of some of their peers, but they’re packing out smaller venues, such as this one, often. You have to wonder if Kirk Brandon can even remember what his home looks like given his intense touring schedule, if not with Spear of Destiny, then, more recently, with the resurrected Theatre of Hate. They only finished their Janus tour in June, and here, they are, back on the road after barely time to do the laundry and restock the merch. The frequency of visits to destinations with smaller demographics does nothing to diminish the attendance, either: the fanbase is hardcore, and they do seem to be drawing younger people in, too, as interest in the bands kids’ parents listened to appears to be on the rise. I’m not going to claim that the 80s and 90s were better than now for music – not least of all because I don’t believe that’s the case, despite it being harder to find stuff now if you want to escape the algorithmic force-feed – but there was something about those times that’s lacking now, and it’s not just innovation. Politics and protest seemingly had a more central place then, too: in recent years have
It was only last September that Theatre of Hate stopped by this very same venue, and the Spring of 2023 that Spear of Destiny trod these same boards – and yet tonight, perhaps because it’s a Friday – the place is packed, perhaps more so than on the last two visits.
Immediately they dispel that whole ‘heritage band’ thing by opening a solid set with a slew of newer material, delivered with vigour. It’s also very much a set for the more devoted fans: popular songs and hits like ‘So in Love with You’, ‘Tinseltown’, and ‘Young Men’ are bypassed in favour of a set that works its way through recent tunes and deeper cuts, and only really goes all out on the big popular choices in the second half. No-one’s complaining, though, and the band look to be enjoying themselves: at one point, Kurt exchanges grins and chat with bassist Craig. And I’m reminded – as a huge, huge Sisters of Mercy fan, but one too young to see them in their first era – that I’m standing maybe six feet away from the bass legend that is Craig Adams. The fact that The Mission were the first major-league band I saw, from what felt like a mile away, at Sheffield City Hall in 1990 is the context here.
Kirk’s voice may not sound quite as strong as on his last visit, but the chap’s been poorly, and he’s still capable of belting out the tunes, and, soaring in all directions and, when it matters, leaping an octave in an instant and hitting all the high notes. And as a four-piece, while the absence of sax is notable particularly on some songs, they create a sound that’s dense, and as always, they play with precision tightness while maintaining a fluidity and a palpable energy. Everything else is in place, with a dominant rhythm section, from martial beats to thunderous tribal percussion, paired with Adam’s sturdy grooves.
Up front, there’s ‘Strangers in Our Town’, and ‘Never Take Me Alive’ lands early on, too. It’s easy for forget that this is a band who’ve released significantly more albums since their eighties heyday than during that time, and the set offers a fair balance of post-eighties material with a selection of songs from that commercially fruitful spell – and it’s worth noting that fan favourites aren’t necessarily the singles, but key album tracks. ‘Mickey’, for example, was only a single in The Netherlands, but is one of the highlights of World Service, and tonight’s set.
Into the final leg, ‘Rainmaker’ really rouses the rabble, and ‘Radio Radio’ prompts a huge singalong before they depart the stage. The place erupts when the band come back on, and the encore launches with a spirited ‘Soldier Soldier’… and finished with ‘Liberator’ – because there is simply no other way to end a Spear of Destiny set. It brings the house down – every single time. More of the same next time, please.
Aural Aggravation 