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Review: Sons of Liberty/Ethyrfield, Thekla
Socially distanced gigs? No thanks. Livestreamed gigs? Pass. It’s easy to understand why bands and venues alike have tried to find imaginative ways to keep going in a covid-secure environment.
But nothing was ever going to rival the experience of a sweaty, restriction-free live show – while taking all possible precautions and respecting those who may be feeling more vulnerable. Nobody wants to be mistaken for a swivel-eyed, loony anti-vaxx conspiracy theorist, after all.
is needed now More than ever
The talk at the Thekla bar suggested that for many this was their first proper gig in nearly 18 months. Such is our hunger for heavily amplified guitars that any old two-bit support band is likely to be greeted like conquering heroes. But hang on a minute. No excuses or special pleading are required here. Preposterously youthful Newton Abbot trio Ethyrfield are really fucking excellent. An unknown quantity to just about everybody here, they waste no time in winning over the Sons of Liberty audience with their impressive brand of proggy hard rock topped with pitch-perfect harmony vocals – which are rare in trios, where the lead guitar is generally left to do the talking.
They’re so tight that you could be forgiven for thinking these guys have spent the last year-and-a-half in a rehearsal room. That’s not quite as unlikely as it may seem, given that guitarist Ben and bassist Zach Cornish are brothers. Some kind of sibling alchemy could also explain why their voices blend so well. There are plenty of touchstones for old-timers here, from the classic power trios of yore to the pioneering prog-metal of Rush and beyond to Porcupine Tree and chief influence Alice in Chains. Spookily, just as this reviewer was briefly reminded of fellow Devonians Wishbone Ash, they played a song entitled Bitter Wishbone.
But while rather too many young bands seem content to produce facsimiles of their influences in the hope of claiming a slice of the classic rock pie when the old gods slip off their perches, Ethyrfield use them as building blocks from which to construct something new and genuinely exciting. Give them a sympathetic producer to help tighten some of their more meandering arrangements and they could be unstoppable.
It really has been a long strange trip for Bristol’s Sons of Liberty. Formed by a bunch of veteran local musos who bonded over their love of unfashionable southern rock, the quintet started off playing covers in pubs. Then they decided to have a bash at composing their own songs, releasing a couple of EPs and eventually an album. This seemed to go down well with audiences, so eventually they bit the bullet and ditched the covers altogether. Meanwhile, the genre was enjoying an unlikely revival and finding a new audience thanks to the likes of Blackberry Smoke and the Cadillac Three, both of whom have played sell-out shows at the O2 Academy. A further step up on the songwriting and production fronts resulted in Sons of Liberty’s fine Aces & Eights album, which earned positive reviews everywhere and plenty of rock radio airplay. Then covid struck.
Multiple postponements later, they’re finally here with a mighty “Hell, yeah!” to break the record for the largest number of cowboy hats worn on the Thekla stage at any one time. That’s right: Sons of Liberty tackle the inherent preposterousness of being a band from Bristol who sound like they hail from Florida or Alabama by owning it. And now they’ve got enough strong songs to build a fat-free set.
The old favourites are still in there. Up Shit Creek never fails to raise a smile, while Damned if You Do continues to sound like vintage Molly Hatchet, thanks largely to Rob Cooksley’s Danny Joe Brown-esque paint-stripping vocals. But now these are joined by newer, often stronger material, which really comes alive on stage. Don’t Hide Behind Your Weakness is a magnificent stormer, the anthemic Fire & Gasoline is tailor-made for rock radio, and Beef Jerky Boogie, er, boogies. Paying tribute to the late singer (alongside Jim Dandy) in Black Oak Arkansas, excellent set closer Ruby Starr reminds us of how deeply Sons of Liberty are steeped in southern rock.
Eccentric, cane-wielding, harmonica-blowing frontman Cooksley remains the focal point, giving the band a personality that helps raise them above the handful of other UK acts toiling in this field. “Still doing this at 62!” he quips at one point, shaking his head. It’s not clear whether he’s expressing shame, joy or surprise. Possibly a bit of all three.
Any rust that might have accumulated during lockdown has been thoroughly scraped off. The rhythm section of bassist Mark Thomas and stick-twirling drummer Steve Byrne never permit the pace to slacken, while guitarists Fred Hale and Andy Muse mesh impressively, with the former winning frequent applause for his solos. It’d be good to hear some more of those irresistible Allmans-style melodic twin guitar runs, mind.
These guys have been around the block enough times to calibrate their expectations accordingly, but with an extensive UK tour running into December their steady upward trajectory is certain to continue. Or, to put it in authentic southern rock terms, they’re more likely to be Beatin’ the Odds than Flirtin’ with Disaster.
All photos by Kelly Spiller – Metal Planet Music
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