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Review: Bigbyrd, the Louisiana – ‘Big, heavy, playful and shiny’
I would not normally be tempted to tackle central Bristol on a sticky Tuesday night in mid-July. During festival season, midweek is very much dedicated to rest and work and more rest.
But the lure of the Bigbyrd was too much to resist and so I find myself shaking off the post-dinner sloth and heading to the Louisiana.
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I wonder, idly, if the band I saw once at a craft fair several years ago, but who have nevertheless occupied a curious space in my brain ever since, will be worth the excursion.
I couldn’t have been more right.
But first up, two support bands, each bringing their own unique brand of rock to the evening.
Questian wear their ‘70s influences on their sleeve – or, more accurately, their topless waistcoat and statement jewellery combo.
The frontman’s thick length of wavy hair, full-throated Robert Plant-esque vocals and chunky bass riffage all add to the effect – but he seems to be having such a lovely time, it can’t be faulted. And the audience are too – there are phones out and wiggles galore.
Maisons follow. It’s a classic rock-style sound with assured female vocals, big guitar tones and bluesy licks in places. There’s a Paramore cover, a straight-up pop break-up ballad, a rifftastic banger, pleasing hooks, plenty of emotion and a handful of walloping choruses.
From the looks of the posters on the gig-room wall, there are plenty more opportunities to catch them coming up, which is sure to please emo fans old and new.
Then Bigbyrd crash in like thunder and show everyone how it’s done.
The trio are swaggering from the outset. Their opener features heavy chords with bouncy, jazzy breakdowns and the vocalist’s signature psych-scat poetry; it’s repeated ‘don’t forget what you came for’ sentiment and upbeat psychedlia feel akin to that of Alabaster dePlume.
It’s effortless and thoughtful; big and playful; precise, off-kilter and confident.
An intricate, woozy math-rock riff provokes whoops from the crowd who are moving already. Metal chug, funky-souly sunshine, janky jazz and doomy sludge all follow.
Riffs are up there with the best of those hook-masters, the Psychedelic Porn Crumpets.
A handful of new songs sound fresh, bringing a sense of palpable onstage excitement. Wagtail is named after a clutch of birds in the nest the band think they might have killed with their music (it’s a jaunty, enjoyable anecdote when told with a grin by the frontman – albeit with an unavoidably dark twist).
Barn is an epic space voyage soundtrack to get lost in.
Biscuit, from the band’s forthcoming EP which they promise will be along ‘soon’, we’re told is “as tasty as a chocolate hobnob.” While beforehand the audience banter they’ve maybe set the bar too high, by the time the track is through they’re breathless and bellowing. So perhaps more like a jaffa or millionaire’s shortbread moment?
Ripping into some old classics, the barnet is unleashed and proper flailing begins in earnest.
There’s a solid gang of ardent fans here and the attention is well-deserved. Bigbyrd could own a stage bigger than this one, but we’re lucky to be a part of this intimate experience: allowing the sounds to wash over, around and through us, leaving us vibrating from the feet up and beaming.
Bigbyrd have a lovely, amiable presence, clearly taking pure joy in the act of making music together, in the moment. They tell us we’re glowing under the stage lights; really, they are the shiny ones.
All photos: Ursula Billington
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