Reviewed by Paul H Birch, photos by Martin Tierney

The Zac Schulze Gang open with a rowdy version of Rory Gallagher’s ‘Laundromat’. The titular guitarist is sporting a flat cap, baggy jacket and trousers; they do little to hide the fact that many of his stage moves resemble those of the man whose song he’s playing, that he’s likely as not too young to have seen Gallagher live himself, but studied him via DVDS or Youtube footage is perhaps some saving grace for those of us disturbed by those who attend concerts simply to record them on their phone.

Gallagher’s legend is writ large in this venerable building. The story has it, when snow stopped trains in their tracks he got off and walked to the venue, carrying an acoustic, played to his fans and promised to return with his band, which he did. The three young men on stage do not besmirch his name. Rather they start the weekend off well.

Next up is their but-days-old new single, ‘Woman’. It’s surprisingly not quite as heavy as on record, but a tad faster, but with enough room for stocky bass player Anthony Greenwell to invest it with the first of several solos and the song itself get extended. Another cover follows, one we’re told appeared on their last EP, it’s Rufas Thomas’ ‘Walking The Dog’ but it’s nothing like the funk number many of us know. Rather, following a guitar pitched akin to Albert King we get a slow soul blues number. I expect the tempo to change after the first verse but it doesn’t, this is more like something Robert Cray might perform than the mother-frigging Aerosmith rendition, Schulze pouring out some very tasty licks along the way. The speed dial is back in place for another cover in Dr. Feelgood’s ‘She Does It Right’, Greenwell’s stage presence now reminding me a little of that band’s Sparko as he pivots about his edge of the stage, while Schulze duck walks everywhere else, and his brother Ben bashes away at his drumkit at the back. There’s some nice interplay between the three and with a power trio there’s little room for mistakes. They supported Samantha Fish on her recent US tour, things going down so well she invited them to open for her over here. They’re a good match, setting the tone for a more than solid night of entertainment.

That stated, they do an awful lot of covers and that’s something that’s going to be addressed as they continue. Original number ‘Hole In My Pocket’ proves a fun-some blues walkabout, sung by Greenwell, one might suggest he’s actually got a better singing voice than Schulze, but the guitarist tends to bring more character to the table. Raw but sparkling fizzy ‘Could Be Better, Could Be Worse’ is likely as not the next tune’s title that’s a new one and is also being played live for the first time.

Another couple of numbers follow, the first with at least two bass solos, the next a rock boogie before what they claim is their last number but splits into two as they branch off from another Gallagher cover in ‘Messin’ With The Kid’ into Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Oh, Well’. The songs’ pairing is a perfect match even if they do push them into hard rock meets punk territory, the set itself leaving one happily exhausted and needing the time between for a mildly ecstatic chat with friends as one recuperates.

As some rock steady funk pours out over the PA, I look down from the Gods and notice the stalls have filled up considerably. I’ve caught Samantha Fish live a few times now. First time round she brought a brass section and a plane full of guitars, compromising thereafter but also increasing her fanbase here, I’ve seen many a band not quite fill this venue in recent years. Word has it, she’d requested seats be removed downstairs so people could get up and dance, it also avoids looking at empty rows. Here it seems she’s done okay; it’s filled out nicely down there. They weren’t in the bar because we were nearly the last to leave. Since if you buy four pints at the town hall now it’s about equivalent to the cost of an average concert ticket, it’s likely people are drinking elsewhere, coming in late and missing the opening acts. Their loss tonight.

Decked out in black, by way of tight leather pants, bra, waistcoat (with a white black widow spider on the back) high-heeled boots, and the customary blond perm she’s taken to as a stage look in recent years, comes the lady herself, Miss Samantha Fish alongside her band who proceed to ‘Kick Out The Jams’ as she did last time that she was in these parts playing alongside Jess Dayton, on this MC5 cover. Alas, the sound, for the first verse or two, is a little rough, not least her voice cutting through the mix, fortunately adjustments are made in we return to the excellent aural atmosphere that’s been projected out to us tonight. Moving stage left along the front then back, takes it in her stride, soloing before returning to the mic for the first of one hell of a blues holler as the proto-punk number finishes.

Aside from drums, bass and keyboards alongside her on stage, Fish’s guitar tech is permanently there, present behind a rack of guitars to the right, re-tuning as and when, and heading towards her to change over the six string tools of her trade, often even before a song’s finished. Drummer Jamie Douglass sets a beat and the stall area audience raise their hands clapping, allowing her to make the first of many guitar changes tonight – Douglass has a CV that includes Shooter Jennings, Marilyn Manson, Duff McKagan among others, and it’s good to see him still banging it out for Samantha Fish. However, I spend far too much of the night wondering if there’s a machine blowing cool air over him or if it’s his arms acting like a whirlwind in motion that’s the cause of his fringe constantly flipping about, rather than it be drenched in sweat as it should.

Trilling on guitar with her left hand while gesturing with her right, coyly she begins to sing about her ‘Wild Heart’, her actual guitar playing almost synthesiser-like in sound when she later solos. Continuing to act like a cheetah on the prowl, ‘You better Be Lonely’ comes next. Ron Johnson (who’s also served good time playing with the likes of Greg Allman, and the Warren Haynes Band) pushes his bass into old school funk territory here; slow dancing on the spot, one leg lifted a little, shades ever present and wide-brimmed pork pie hat worn low you wonder if he moved much further would he be able to see without tripping over. Fish’s penchant for first person narrative experiences set within some fictional 50s pulp novel or B-movie, where girls need to be tough or are hard won-by but not afraid to express their vulnerability has an emotional appeal that is far more about feminine empowerment than her source material would give credit for. That stated, her final guitar solo during this number is akin to cream being poured out slowly, but coming out hot and frothy to the taste. It sets the mood for the hot cha-cha of ‘Chills And Fever’ prior to which she’s told us how she wants us to singalong. “You’re thinking, ‘She’s crazy, it’s only the fourth number!” she jokes. We laugh, all save for the guy at the front of the circle who’s been leaning over filming the whole of the show on his phone, who security politely tap on the back of the shoulder and order him to stop. Keyboard player Mickey Finn turns from his organ to face an electric piano and the audience as he solos away, as with other band members he’s got pedigree, not least The Miracles, Mungo Jerry and The Left Banke. Clicking her fingers and gesturing away, Fish sings into her microphone before stepping back, the music slowing as she begins to solo only for the intensity to increase, only for her to then return back to the mic as the audience sing along bringing the number to its conclusion.

Her tech having passed Fish her cigar box guitar moves across to raise her second microphone stand as we prepare for the track that gives this tour its name, and the frenzied feedback of ‘Bulletproof’ gives way to its heavy stumping riff, with folk down the front pumping their fists in the air like it’s a full blown metal gig. Between waves of unrepenting slide work the lady veers between her microphones issuing melodious high notes and distorted furious roars, sounding more like a crossed-dressed young Robert Plant than a sweet gal from Kansas City. How four strings can make such an excellent sound we’ll leave for others to ponder, suffice to say the different tonal expressions find approval from us as she struts the stages before the band charge into a super-fast boogie. Finn turns to his organ, a lengthy intro leading us into a sultry and sexy rendition of ‘Kill Or Be Kind’ wherein you’re taken by surprise as her guitar explodes into a harsh shimmering solo, the hardest working member of a road crew rushing centre stage to exchange her guitars as Finn takes another solo, Fish then returning to the mic, seducing us with her “Baby, baby” incantations before the red guitar in her hands lets out deep baritone sounds, whereupon moving to the edge of the stage they rock hard to the song’s conclusion.

Next up, percolating like lava underground, comes ‘Watch It Die’, pulling on open strings that echo out while her free hand expresses, emphasising her attitudinal singing voice. Shifting towards a bluesier soul with echoed slide, the song refuses to stand still, growing ever more tumultuous, the band beating down heavily as defiantly she chants out mantra-like: “I’m not gonna fade away!” and we believe her. Bending down to pluck at and mix floor-based effects pedals this song proves to be one of the evening’s highlights and that’s despite it, at times, being the aural equivalent of watching some little boy coldly pull the wings off a butterfly, so relentless, and unrepentant has it been.

The band vacate the stage, for a much needed rest, but Samantha Fish remains, as with acoustic in hand, she nimbly picks away with the ragtime appeal of Charlie Patton’s ‘Jim Lee Blues’. It’s not much of a cigarette break, as the band are back right after, as is one of the two white Gibson SGs that are themselves working overtime tonight. Joking once more with the audience, she tells us the next number is dedicated to those who want to wiggle a little bit. Doing so herself, the number proves sexy, sensual and cheeky by equal turns, her voice and guitar rocking and rolling away before she turns towards Finn on clavinet and they trade licks, at one point the whole affair coming across like some vintage horror movie soundtrack. She returns back to front of stage, while Finn shifts to electric piano soloing, the pair hen duetting in lullaby mode before Fish ignites into a psych-drenched siren-bursting slew of notes that somehow retain the essence of the blues. Once more she applies effects, adding atmospherics and indeed that synth-like sound she had earlier on this evening, the soundtrack in our minds now heading out into space more akin to some early 70s sci-fi soundtrack before John Williams commandeered that scene. Finn’s piano pulls us back down to earth, Fish’s guitar trills away, her voice screaming out the last repeated lines of ‘Don’t Say You Love Me’

With a “1, 2, 3 and 4” some ornery roadhouse rocking blues come next, the cumulative effect coming on like a born-again John Lee Hooker despite it being R.L. Burnside number slide work given full measure, as she changes the lyrics to ‘Poor Black Mattie’ to tell us how she’s “Going down to Birmingham” with the kind of roar of approval this venue hasn’t had since Phil Mogg sang something similar within ‘Lights Out’ back when the world was young and the city fathers closed this place down, claiming rock music was ruining its structure (finally reneging, once they regretted the loss of revenue as the Black Country’s venues gained control). But wat the hell, legs once more astride, power chords slotted between slide runs, Samantha Fish and band bring the number to an end.

Surpassing ‘Watch It Die’ as best song of the night, we get ‘Dream Girl’. In anguish, like a broken winged dove crying out over this country-tinted ballad that’s in another life could have come from a Fleetwood Mac that featured both Stevie Nicks and Peter Green, some of us become spellbound, a flicker of light out of the corners of our eyes causing us for the first time to lifting our heads from focussing on the stage, see the banner exclaiming the lady’s name above, purple and green spotlights above them, and that the mirror ball high in the central ceiling has white lights blazing onto it causing shifting circles of light to dance gently across both sides of the hall.

Anthemically, the song proceeds, Fish’s voice soaring melodiously, eloquent phrase flowing one after another as she solos thoughtfully with emotional creativity. Again, she adjusts her effects pedal manually in alignment with Finn’s piano configurations, until the song’s climax, both figuratively.

The rough tough blues of ‘I Wish I Was In Heaven Sitting Down’ pummels us with attitude, each member of the band being introduced as they take a short solo. Her body swaying as she plays on the edge of the centre of the stage herself, then sauntering about the stage the music transforms into a deep dirge-styled progressive blues rock, grows anthemic, spacy too, before coming to a powerful end.

As the band leave, I’m left pondering how such small amps could create such a big sound. Fortunately, I leave thinking aside and return to letting my endorphins kick in as they return to encore. “Thank you so much! You feeling good, yeah?” Fish calls out and they begin to perform her just released single, a cover of Screamin’ Jay Hawkins’ ‘I Put A Spell On You’. Her voice forthright and full  with her guitar virtually talking. It proves different from the single’s interpretation, but then she’s not one to stand still. There’s been variations and changes to established songs, some favourites have had to give way, the cigar box guitar is in semi-retirement, but there have been no disappointments save an early disturbance in sound.

And, it ain’t over yet. Introducing Zac Schulze back on stage, he joins them in tonight’s final number ‘Black Wind Howlin’’. It’s big heavy churning riffage, Fish soling on slide guitar then passes the baton onto Schulze who proves just how good he is, the lady herself practically headbanging as he does so, the pair subsequently trading off licks before she heads to the microphone, cries out: “Birmingham, you’ve been incredible – Thank you so much!” The band slam back in, Fish solos with an almighty  fiery presence, the audience certainly getting its money’s worth, even with the cost of a pint here. Once more at the mic, singing and wriggling eventually we have to reach the end, and it’s suitably a big one. With enough applause to make the larger symphony hall up the road wake and take notice for future tours the band gather for what’s become a new millennium tradition of bands taking photos with audience they’re snapped for prosperity. You get the impression Fish herself has really enjoyed herself tonight out on her first date in the UK this year, shaking hands with fans down the front, bowing down to give one the setlist, between throwing plectrums out. This has arguably been one of the best shows I’ve seen her play, others around me claim it her best… Thus far.