Live: Bedouin Soundclash, Concorde 2
Attempting to remedy the post weekend blues this Monday night (mine being particularly bad this week) are the Canada based Reggae/Ska band Bedouin Soundclash.
Having released their fourth album this year titled “Light the horizon” the band were keen to mine their new material for all it’s worth. Obviously a necessity for any band attempting to introduce their latest work but a tactic that needs to be balanced by performing tracks they’re most recognised for.
Initially the band seemed unable to infuse enough familiarity into the performance and thus interest and maintain the audience satisfaction levels. The new material in question is a slight departure from their Ska roots and may sit more comfortably under the description of Alt Rock, a distinction that wasn’t lost on the expectant audience.
Midway through their set however, the Toronto trio commenced an unexpected triptych medley, led by a familiar sounding drum intro. Instead of bursting into “When the night feels my song” however the now energised crowd were treated to a reggae rendition of “Stand by me”. Seguing masterfully into their aforementioned and most familiar song, the band finally found the pace and rhythm the audience had obviously bought a ticket for.
Barely waiting a beat after the applause had subsided, the mash-up was concluded with a raucous version of “Israelites”. Perfectly closing the sudden injection of energy and seemingly attempting to emulate any number of their fans iPod playlists.
Sandwiched between two classic tracks, their most popular song didn’t seem out of place one iota. “When the night feels my song” is almost so familiar that it feels as if it has always been.
The uninitiated may ponder where they have heard it before. Embedded in your psyche (perhaps) because it was used in a Heinz baked beans advert when you were a kid (it wasn’t).
The set served to not as testament to Bedouin Soundclash’s innate ability to produce iconoclastic and uplifting music, but their thankful flair for curing my Monday melancholy.
Words and Photography by Mike Turnham
bedouinsoundclash.com
