Off the back of only four released songs, UK two-piece Royal Blood managed to completely sell out their inaugural Australian tour. So who’s responsible for snapping up these tickets? Well, there was a strong contingent of rowdy lads ready for heavy drinks and heavier riffs occupying the Corner Hotel tonight.
For the uninitiated, the Brighton duo consists of drummer Ben Thatcher and bassist/vocalist Mike Kerr. Aside from being a novel setup, leading with the bass made for a beginning-to-end riff-fest. Kerr’s expert pedal work did allow fuzzy guitar noises to splice in between the pummeling bass lines. But there was certainly no chord strumming respite.
The hard-hitting set was executed with ample bravado to ensure the fun levels stayed turned up throughout. However, the more metallic, Pantera-for-beginners tangents in Royal Blood’s arsenal are probably more fun for the band then the listener. Elsewhere, some libido-loaded, Queens of the Stone Age grooves showed promise for the pair’s forthcoming full length.
Singles Little Monster and show closer Out of the Black didn’t just spark recognition – they caused a mess of head-banging, devil-horning, bouncing bodies to congregate at the front of the room.
Thanks non-stop gigging ever since Out of the Black hit the airwaves in September, the audacious musicality was matched by Kerr and Thatcher’s tightly-honed chops. Thatcher might look like a steak and kidney pie guy, but he possesses lively feel and hits like an anvil to the head. Meanwhile, Kerr’s high register didn’t falter once during the 40-minute set. His vocals could be the band’s most interesting asset. Even though Royal Blood play hard, Kerr’s voice relates a sweet-hearted leaning. This helps prevent the body-thrashing onslaught from sounding threatening.
Where Royal Blood takes it from here remains to be seen. None of the singles issued so far seem destined to be remembered beyond the initial head-banging rush of nostalgia. The biggest sing-along of the night came from Little Monster, which is surely one of the dumbest rock hits in recent years. Of course, rock’n’roll works best when it eschews intellect. But whether it endures is another story.
As for as the event unfurling in front of us tonight, it was roistering, sweaty rock’n’roll – done just right.
BY AUGUSTUS WELBY
Photo by Kate Davis
Loved: That bass sound.
Hated: What, no fireworks?
Drank: Tin upon tin.
