Narc. Magazine Online
Reliably informed
Matthew McDonnell enjoys a rapturously received show from the 80s indie icons
As I ascended the steps to the venue space in the Cumberland Arms, I knew I was in for a warm one. The room was packed with glistening bodies and flushed faces, wishing they’d ordered anything else but a stout. First up was Carla J. Easton. With just an electric and acoustic guitar the pair were able to create something both familiar yet genuinely compelling, all the while the silver star stickers sparkled on their headstocks like 100 tiny disco balls.
When The Pastels took to the stage the response was nothing short of rapturous, more akin to the reception you’d expect from a hometown show. I got an overwhelming feeling that they were genuinely grateful for the crowd. There was a humility, almost shyness to their performance that I found wholly authentic and quite beautiful. Anyway, enough fawning, technically the band still seemed remarkably in sync despite their time away from the spotlight, their harmonies in particular, seemed to fit like an old glove, their voices just as I remembered them from their earliest recordings.
In the end I felt grateful to have been there that night, having only played Newcastle and Glasgow respectively. It was a treat to see such a special band dust off their instruments and take to the stage again, no pretence or ego, just quiet appreciation from band and crowd alike.
