Reviewed by Paul H Birch, photos by Martin Tierney

This evening’s chauffer driven journey into Wolverhampton proves incredibly slow, too early for Christmas, but there are a number of car accidents. It means we’re a little late for the Ashley Sherlock Band, who I overhear had a few sound problems during their first two numbers and there’s still a buzz coming from a raised speaker stage left, as I shove to find a space. Despite this technical fault, the band themselves are coming out loud and clear, with the venue ensuring they’ve got full use of its light show facilities.

Playing numbers from last year’s debut, Just A Name (reviewed at Midlands Rocks here), live the trio is more raucous than on record, at times a kind distorted grunge blues, with Sherlock’s voice a little more strategically histrionic for emotional impact between more passive Jeff Buckley comparisons. ‘Death Of Me’ is sharp-riffed over an Ameri-Indian beat, ‘If You’re Listening’ more affecting vocally over a shifting broken chordal pattern, and taking its own sweet ‘Time’ is a slow-but-loud blues walk interspersed with wild falsetto screams and featuring an impressive bass solo from Charlie Kay, the band rounded out ably by drummer Danny Rigg.

Sherlock himself is a tall bloke, he wears a wide-brimmed hat and shades, and often uses a capo on his guitar, at differing fret intervals for individual songs. As intense album centrepiece ‘Dear Elizabeth’ begins the light show responds accordingly, both tender and brutal it moves from ballad to highly impressive wah-wah guitar solo before the trio race towards its climax. There’s been between stage banter and the soft-sell offer to join them to the merchandise stand later, before power chords and thorny licks deliver the set’s final number, ‘Fine By Me’, heavy slow burning blues with banshee vocal gymnastics between more plaintive duo harmonies, there’s strong band interplay, ending as it began, with Sherlock and Kay facing Rigg as power chords pull down hard.

As drinks are refilled and toilet queues joined, sundry members of the headline act briefly tune up then re-exit. This here’s the club section of KK’s Steel Mill, the kind of place you’d fancy coming for a drink regardless of the acts appearing. That said, the audience watching the Ashley Sherlock Band was well packed, now we’re almost playing sardines, as Jefferson Airplane’s ‘White Rabbit’ plays over the PA and The Damn Truth make their official stage entrance.

Drummer Dave Traina is seen briefly, but barely after that, just heard. Whereas, Lee-la Baum (lead vocals/guitar), Tom Shemer (lead guitar/vocals), PY Letellier (bass/vocals) stand loosely in line as if waiting for the modern day equivalent of Ken Kesey’s Merry Pranksters bus as they singing along to the Airplane’s drug-inspired anthem. On one level, I guess they’re psyching themselves up, on another it’s a bit too cultish for my tastes. Fortunately, they let the music do most of the talking from hereon, and the crowds don’t give a hoot what I might think anyway, they’re cheering loud before a note’s played.

With great gusto the front line spills out across the stage. Shemer pogoing like a late 70s London punk one minute, posing like an early 70s rock star playing Madison Square Gardens the next, Letellier slightly less active and this is probably because there’s less room on his side of the stage, because the twice I seen them before as support acts before it’s usually him who bounds about most like a cross between Tigger and the late Pete Way. Up at the main mic, Baum’s gesturing with her hands, then running them through her long brown hair as she sings. Alas, the sounds a little fuzzy and it’s not until the chorus that their statement of intent: ‘This Is Who We Are Now’ is the song we’re being delivered, not least because the audience about me is singing the words out loud. It’ll take another couple of numbers before the kinks are ironed out, and I can still hear that one speaker buzzing, but no-one else seems to give a no-pun-intended damn.

Power chords sign us in for ‘Full On You’, a song that in hindsight sounds like The Stranglers’ ‘London Lady given a power pop makeover, whereas ‘Love Outta Luck’ is delivered with punk-come-garage rock attitude, Baum spitting out lyrical venom, spikey notes bursting out of Shemer’s guitar, the number having a series of false endings before Letellier’s bass starts ‘Lonely’ a number that builds with waspish Zeppelin-styled rock ‘n roll energy as Baum’s wails out expressing both passion and pain, rapping and a hollering out. There are lots of smiles on stage, beatific poses, and a change of guitar for Shemer in the latter stages, as Rigg lets out a heavy barrage of sound for the song to end on.

Standing on tip-toes I can just make out his moustached face, the others in the retro late 60s/early 70s garb far more in-your-face. Baum’s wearing a silvery-grey outfit, while the guys have done a little grooming up top, Letellier’s less hirsute, his mop-top and beard now has him doubling as a Boz Borrell lookalike while Shemer could be Oliver Tobias’ glam rocking younger brother.

‘Lonely’ is next and this venue’s anything but tonight. The band’s fan are heavy in number, loud with their applause and more than happy to singalong, contributing to Baum’s ruminating heavy hum in the bluesy delivery of ‘Lonely’, but leaving her to sing a cappella part way through, then chat to the audience expressing their feeling about playing the UK. There’s a distinction between the band when they play support at major venues and when they’re more up close headlining their own club tours, cock-sure but cool before now there’s also another 12 months experience in the music industry and with that comes a more earnest assuredness. However, you also get the impression they’ll be at certain points collectively on the stage where set poses come into play, whether that be pogoing as one or standing angled in line shaking their heads and guitars. Not a bad thing, this is, after all, a rock and roll show.

Country rocking with AOR splendour ‘Only Love’ proves one of the night’s highlight’s, Baum’s gymnastic vocals in fine form, and the number ending, if I recall correctly, with a drum solo. ‘Look Innocent’ slows things down appropriately three quarters of the way through the show. More country rock nuance in this blues ballad that accentuates the drama, but it’s the quieter moments as a bass-solos away I admire. Baum tells  us there are always aspects of the show that are spontaneous, and I get the impression Letellier’s melodic interjections had just been one of those. We’re also told how Britain’s a great place to play, and tonight’s a highlight; cynical as I tend to be and take such declarations with a pinch of salt, The Damn Truth seem to live in the moment and they’re wearing some big grins on their collective faces tonight, so I’d say at that point in time they weren’t just delivering the usual hype.

As green lights turn to white, then back again, we’re offered the hippy-trippy Zep-styled ‘The Willow’; a little more psych metal ‘Devilish Folk’ see Baum waving her arms high in the air as if incanting as she sings; then vibrantly pumping away, they offer the candy flossed chirpy rock ‘n roll vibes of ‘I Just Gotta let You Know’ where between staccato heavy crushed riffs and exuberant crowd singalongs they’re still jumping, posing and running about enough to make this old git wipe sweat from his brow just watching. The song receives the loudest applause of the evening thus far, and there’s not much longer to go with ‘Get With You’ maintaining the high energy levels set with the last number, a hefty drum beat, guitar wrangling alongside testifying rock gospel vocals.

Once more Baum expresses that playing is what they do best, and enjoy, England’s a buzz with its rock community making them feel welcome, how they supported Glenn Hughes on KK’s Steel Mill’s main stage and now want us to make enough collective noise to be heard over there, a place they one day want to headline, leading into the aptly titled ‘Tomorrow’ with its mid-70s guitar signature line intro and its tie-dyed flag-waving barrage declaration of love.

The crowd is split around fifty-fifty both male and female, many couples here, of varying ages. They know the material that’s been played well, and from the applause won’t leave before getting more, and thus the band return for two encores.  Tambourine in hand, Baum roams the stage, dancing and singing, the number ‘Too Late’ moving from sultry smoky blues rock to complete rave-up, before climaxing with a crescendo of sexy blues rock, after which a voice whispers knowingly into my confused ear, “It’s a Janis Joplin number.” After which they dip back into their own old set list for the night’s final number ‘Heart Is Cold’,  Letellier’s bass moving the number through its changes, Traina’s snare drum chasing after him, the song a heavy smorgasbord of Zeppelin-fuelled distorted riffs psyched up, Shemer’s guitar squealing and pinging away like a proto-synthesiser. It kind of reminds me of old British band Babe Ruth, who were apparently big in Canada and latterly now  making me wonder just how much of an influence they were on The Damn Truth. While it isn’t the strongest number in their set, they’re giving it just as much in terms of delivery as anything that’s gone before, and still leaping about with about two-thirds as much energy as when they first bounded on stage.

This is my third outing watching The Damn Truth live, and much as I respect their goals of bigger glories in days ahead, right now, I can see how well they project their group dynamic on this clubland headline tour and the symbiotic relationship they’re nurturing with their UK fans.