Review: Temples, The Fleece – ‘A cornucopia of delights’

Tonight, Temples were Mercury. They were quicksilver.

Tonight, Temples were gender-fluid, genre-fluid, generation-fluid. Tonight, Temples were 60s psych and 80s glisten, they were disco, they were mod, they were blokey chat and ethereal voices, they were heavy as hell and sunlight soft, they were drop-dead cool and not cool at all, they were everything to everyone.

Tonight, worshiping Temples was easy.

It’s been a while since the Kettering based four-piece have played Bristol so there was a good deal of love in a nicely crowded The Fleece.

Just at the tail-end of a UK tour in support of the wildly under-rated new album, Exotico, Temples started with a gorgeous wash of sand-between-the-toes synth exotica before stamping down, hard, on the massive chunky riff of Liquid Air.

Cool prog squiggles sitting quietly underneath thunderous drums, the contrast between them and James Bagshaw’s angel-sweet voice incredibly striking.

Before you know where you are the paisley-printed stomp gracefully giving way to ah-ahs turned heavenwards. This, it turned out, was Temples warming up.

Certainty has the finest little melody line, picked out on guitar and synth. It’s all skewed, weird pop and great downpours of euphoria. The wall of layered psych-noise becoming majestic.

It’s like that thing that Queen used to do; wondrous pop hiding inside a huge, ornate box. It makes you feel happy.

There were times when the intricately constructed, kaleidoscopic gems felt slightly more “groove” than “song” but these just allowed for some slouch shouldered, baggy dancing amongst the faithful.

Drums continued to hit hard, the Egyptian bazaar-tinged Cicada and the molasses-y thump of Exotico loosening limbs, widening eyes.

It’s the psych-pop tunes that throw the hands in the air though, they’re the ones that get the shaggy haired circle-pit moving.

Holy Horses is like an obscure 60s b-side, full of snappy Carnaby Street swirls and late summer sunshine. Keep in the Dark has a Spirit in The Sky bouncing bassline, Bagshaw sounding just a bit like Donovan at times.

There’s a trembling folk fragility butting heads with huge psychedelic swathes of guitar, bass and synth madness. Slow Days is crystalline and blue skies. The 60s lava lamp haze replaced with an 80s sheen.

If the first half of the set smoulders gently then the second half blazes bright. “Have you warmed up yet”, wonders Bagshaw before lighting the fuse on Hot Motion.

With its irresistible elastic-band-indie-disco strut and massive chorus it breaks waves of sound across The Fleece. A glorious, noisy wig-out brings it to an ecstatic end. Paraphernalia is the “only disco tune in the set” but it’s an absolute banger, a glitter-ball worthy twirler. It sends heads spinning, young hearts racing.

And then the Temples worship is almost done. Just two more, stone-cold fan favourites before leaving a stage wreathed in feedback and huge potted plants.

Shelter Song starts with a waterfall of cascading drums before becoming one of the finest slices of psychedelic pop ever made.

They encore with Mesmerise; fuzzy, buzzy guitars, thumping drums, high, insistent notes, a Dire Straits guitar solo, strobes picking out rock god poses.

It is the perfect way to end a perfect night, a cornucopia of delights, an ever-shifting treat.

Main photo: Gavin McNamara

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