May 02, 2002 at the Liverpool University in England; by Imran Ahmed from NME
On paper, its near nonsensical to even consider that five 20-something gonzo-garage-punk Swedes with (snigger) side partings might have so unanimously won our nation's notoriously fickle affections. But on stage, with their name literally up in lights, The Hives make sweet sense.
'Howlin' Hive', Howlin' Pelle Almqvist charms, preaches, preens and blows us kisses. 'Head Hive', Nicholaus Arson throws rock shapes like he's auditioning for Sum 41. At the sides, 'Heavy Hive' - fat lipped Vigilante Carlstroem - and 'Hard-man Hive' Chris Dangerous try not to be overshadowed by everyone's favourite 'Soft-porn muzzy Hive', Dr Matt Destruction.
Collectively, they deliver guerrilla garage pop closer to the spirit of The Von Bondies, Detroit Cobras, Dirtbombs and other Detroit alumni than to any of their European contemporaries. Songs like the sneering 'Die, All Right!', the skanky 'a.k.a. I-D-I-O-T' and a scuzzy 'Supply and Demand' seem unpalatably rough around the edges at first, but on closer inspection lurch around with a sheen and precision in keeping with the rest of this stellar, stylised performance.
"OK my loved ones - do you want to hear something special?" Almqvist shouts in his wonky English accent, before a hide-tanning airing of 'Hate To Say I Told You So'. "Please put your hands in the air and report to Hives reception", he announces, introducing ace next single 'Main Offender'. A tune already renowned for, literally, saving Kylie's then underexposed ass, sees them pause in silence mid-song for what feels like 15 minutes (but is probably closer to 15 seconds) in an act of pure unadulterated rock opera.
While not quite pastiche, much of tonight is super-sculpted - Pelle's cabaret interaction with the crowd, the collective look, the on-stage posing. The only time any of them openly break from 'character' is when Arson introduces a song in an atrocious Scouse accent. Sure, it's affected, but none of it feels detached. So give it up for The Hives - the best live band in the world today. Yes it's true - not everything in black and white makes sense.
by Shelly Turner for gigwise
Introducing The Mooney Susuki! Yet another New York import composing of four lunatics on a rock 'n' roll mission. Dressed in a leather jacket and bug eyed sun glasses the front man announces that it is their first visit to 'ole Blighty', they were all betting on which city would rock the most. It was an obvious ploy to wake and stir the crowd into a frenzy by saying that London was in the lead! The crowd go nuts declaring that yes, despite popular belief, Liverpool can still rock! (especially tonight).
What a great warm up band! They begin with a fast and furious number proving that they can give other hyped bands from New York a run for their dollars. Being total showmen that rarely stand still for one-second, leap from one end of the stage to the other as if they have a pogo stick up their ass, and wowing us with dangerous stunts as they jump from the stacked speakers while simultaneously scissor-kicking! I hope they are insured, but I don't think there's any need to worry, as it seems like second nature. The band continues to act like cool spinal tap throwbacks, which makes them even more entertaining and above all fun!
On the flier for 'The Hives' gig it states that the support bands are 'Mooney Suzuki and Vonbondies', but on another flier it's 'The Bellrays', so imagine my surprise (and the rest of the crowd) when 3 old geezers come on stage dressed in Victorian army suites. I am intrigued by the front man, Billy Childish. I am also mesmerised by his gruff cockney accent, and I can't quite keep my eyes from his muzzy! On first impressions they sound like the (original) White Stripes, but if you listen closer you discover within the blusey fuzz-rock sound that there's a lot more to The Buff Medways than meets the eye.
Looking around at the audience I see everyone gaze in wonderment, not quite sure how to take them. I get the impression that Billy plays on this, slurring in a strong cockney accent. For the majority of the gig I couldn't make out a word he was saying and it seemed like there was a few in the audience who were baffled, but this made this unusual encounter with The Buffs' all the more enjoyable.
They were fucking with our heads with their blusey-punk sound and their bizarre stage presence. I couldn't tell you what the songs were called or even what the lyrics were, as I couldn't understand what he was saying! This makes me want to listen to more of their stuff to try and interpret it all. They did play 'Troubled Mind' their new single, I got that much and for their last song they did 'Fire' by Jimi Hendrix. There's a sigh of relief in the crowd at a familiar sound. Despite their long set my heart had been won. Give me The Buffs' over the White Stripes anyday.
It's packed now, it's ten o'clock and we're all growing a little impatient. Suddenly the crowd erupts, as the pin-up of punk rock jumps on stage along with his army of cartoon characters. The Hives are here. They've only been on stage two minutes and already someone has thrown what looks like a pair of knickers at the pretty-boy Howlin' Pelle. It's completely rammed and I am struggling to see or move. As they begin their performance I can't help but think it all seems a little too rehearsed, from the scissors kicks executed perfectly, to the rock expressions, Spinal Tap stylee. But I suppose this is part of their act and it's purely for the visual aesthetic (to make up for the shallow three-chord pop songs).
They have a massive desire to perform, and they have a reputation for being one of the best live bands to emerge in years. This I can agree with to an extent, as it's entertaining stuff, but only due to the showman qualities of the band. They have had a lot of exposure on radio and TV so everyone knows who they are and all the words to their songs. They have the added quirk of being Swedish, completely nuts and of course there is the uniform.
As a band they seem quite tight and disciplined but musically they don't turn me on. Pelle is cocky, confident and a bit of a looker (the fringe and those swivelling hips do it for me!) adding to the bands 'best live band' reputation. He communicates with the crowd in a way that makes us feel as if Liverpool is the only place they are playing this year. "Have we got your attention? Liverpool report to reception please..." He continues to charm the audience "OK my loved ones, want to hear something special? Something we don't play to many audiences." I bet he says that to all the audiences! Next up they play 'Hate To Say I Told You So' to which to crowd go bananas, pogoing and crowd surfing! Pelle asks if we "have any requests?...you got it, we will do the best we can". I should hope so!
The songs are short and ferocious but it helps to keep us interested. 'Main Offender' appears to be their last song, as when they finish they announce that they love us and run off stage. Obviously the crowd are not happy with this and demand an encore. To which they oblige but only when we have to coax out the rest of The Hives from the dressing room at Pelle's insistence. 'Untutored Youth' is their last song, dedicated to us and the disciplined band have relaxed a little undoing their top button and tie. "Bye bye liverpool! We love you!"' Lucky for them they have won the hearts of Liverpool, wish I could say the same. Good fun was had by all but it's all a little too crowded, and perhaps without their hype and at a more intimate venue I wouldn't be so cynical.
