The Kooks, Glasgow review: 'substantial periods of blandness'
A few notable highlights aside, this show mostly seemed to consist of pleasant, mid-paced songs about being young and seeking romantic contentment, writes David Pollock
The Kooks, Hydro, Glasgow ★★
“It's getting a little crazy now, so we'll bring it down with a ballad,” announced singer Luke Pritchard midway through this show. “Which isn't like the Kooks, we don't have many ballads.” The setlist begs to differ… or at least, while they might not often go full balladry, it was full of thoroughly pleasant, mid-paced songs about being young and seeking romantic contentment. Rarely was it crazy.
Despite the music’s bright-eyed nature, it’s been 20 years since the BRIT School-educated Kooks (Pritchard and guitarist Hugh Harris are the only remaining original members) had their first chart hit, and their ongoing recorded life since then – this year’s album Never/Know was their seventh, and the highest-charting since 2008’s Konk – has pushed them into elder statesman of indie-pop territory.
Although the venue looked significantly undersold, they’re still undoubtedly an arena-level band, and a crowd which largely appeared no older than 35 brought warm waves of nostalgia, specifically for the period from 2006 to 2008, when the Kooks were inescapable.
The band fired out spiky early singles Sofa Song and Eddie’s Gun, sprinkled the still resonantly of-their-time She Moves in Her Own Way and Shine On during the set, then finished with an encore of Ooh La and the signature, confetti-blasting Naïve.
These songs predictably went down best with the crowd, although there were a few other, less familiar highlights: the pretend 1970s New York street funk of Down; the shiny pop groove of Connection, reminiscent of Donna Summer's State of Independence; and See Me Now, the aforementioned ballad, an extremely touching piece addressing Pritchard’s dad, who died when he was three.
Yet there were also substantial periods of blandness, exemplified by recent singles Sunny Baby and If They Could Only Know, and by-the-numbers noughties throwbacks like Jackie Big Tits. In sequined shirt, gold chains and with a particularly transatlantic accent, Pritchard recalled Mick Jagger; if only the Kooks had their own Keith Richards too.
The Scotsman’s arts newsletter is now sent twice a week - subscribe today
Comments
Want to join the conversation? Please or to comment on this article.