Last Thursday (17th), Mike and I ventured into Bristol to see Humanist play the final date of their UK tour at Dareshack in the city centre.
When Mike suggested the gig back in June on the back of my post the week before, I knew next to nothing about the band or the venue, which is usually as good a reason as any to say yes.
At the time I wrote about Humanist's collaborations with Dave Gahan, Tim Smith and John Robb, I also said that I was sufficiently intrigued to check out both the debut self-titled album and the then-forthcoming follow up, On The Edge Of A Lost And Lonely World. I only managed the latter.
It's a good album, aurally a vast soundscape that floats through shoegaze territory at times, tips a hat at Trent Reznor's film soundtracks and has a dizzying conveyor belt of guest vocalists, including Carl Hancock Rux, Ed Harcourt and Isobel Campbell. So, quite a challenge to recreate this in a live setting, I suspected.
As far as the venue is concerned, Dareshack is a relatively new addition to Bristol's rich and diverse live scene. Just along from a Caffè Nero and Greggs opposite the city's aptly named Castle Green, the former offices opened as a cafe and restaurant in 2020, adding a live venue in an adjoining room in 2022.
When Mike and I arrived, we bought (soft) drinks and as there was no seats available, or standing room to speak of in the cafe area, we headed straight to the performance room. Bristol was the only date on the tour with a support act 'TBA' and it quickly became apparent that we'd not missed them, there was none.
In fact, apart from a couple of people on stage, another couple in the sound booth and a solitary man next to what appeared to be the merch stand, we were the only ones in the room, and this pretty much continued to be the case until around 9.00pm, when others started to drift into the space.
There's a heart-stopping moment when Wendy Rae Fowler's bass drops to the stage with an almighty clang and she examines it in the dim light for damage...but all appears well and the show can go ahead.
With little fanfare, the neon Humanist logo backdrop lights up, there are a few belches of dry ice and the band take to the stage, left to right, Wendy on bass, Scott Pemberton on drums and Humanist main man Rob Marshall on guitar. Lastly, lead singer Jimmy Gnecco silently takes up position behind the microphone, gripping with both hands like his life depended on it. And maybe it did.
I mentioned that people had started to drift into the performance space, and that's true, but not many. Back in February, Humanist secured the coveted support slot on Depeche Mode's European arena tour, playing in Germany, Czechia and Poland to crowds of between 14,000 and 18,000 people per night.
The room at Dareshack has a capacity of 200 and I would generously estimate that it was half full as the band launched into a blistering performance of Beast Of The Nation from the debut album. I could only imagine that it must be a strange and arguably enervating sensation for the band to go from one extreme to the other, especially when facing what felt to me a rather flat and lifeless audience.
Beast Of The Nation was one of several Humanist songs originally performed by Mark Lanegan and therein lay the challenge for Jimmy Gnecco on stage: to reimagine and own songs that in their studio incarnations have a variety of formidable voices shaping them.
As a singer, Jimmy did a pretty good job, a good range and a consistent tone and character to the songs (admittedly, helped in part by my unfamiliarity with the originals) and some occasional vocal surprises, particularly on the final song when he really let rip. Unfortunately, his singing was frequently low in the mix, undermining what was clearly a virtuoso performance.
Visually, Jimmy also looked the part: a skinny scion of Iggy Pop and Richard Hell, hair slicked back and cheekbones cutting through the clouds of dry ice; black leather biker jacket zipped up tight, overlong T-shirt reined in by a thick belt around the hips; the hint of a tattoo sleeve poking out at the wrists.
As a performer, on this night at least, Jimmy was largely static, between song chat was perfunctory and kept to a minimum and I likely misinterpreted the regular glances at his bandmates to the left and right - and less often to the crowd itself - as the expression of someone who wished that this was all be over soon. Then again, I could hardly blame Jimmy for that and the absence of any real connection with the audience, when relatively few people had bothered to turn up and experience a great band in a (very) intimate setting.
The rhythm section were solid throughout. Wendy's face was pretty much hidden behind a curtain of hair throughout but her bass playing was clear and fluid; Steve has played with Rob for two decades now and together the pair were more than up to the task of providing a solid foundation for each of the dozen songs played.
And Rob? Well...Humanist is effectively Rob Marshall and, whilst there were few words from him onstage, he let his guitar playing do all the talking. At one point, I was mesmerised by Rob's playing on a solo, both hands literally a blur as he played with such speed and skill. The night was full of moments like that and frequently the focus of attention, arguably at the expense of the lead singer. It really was something to see and hear.
That said, there
was a weird juxtaposition between the multi-layered, complex sounds on
the album that were designed to be heard in cinemas and live arenas and
the almost pub gig vibe of the Dareshack show.
The venue blurb makes much of its "d&b
360
Soundscape installation", "twenty-two loudspeakers combined with
state-of-the-art
processing power, object-based mixing, and sophisticated room
emulation". I'm not sure how much of that was actually at play during
the Humanist set, not least our experience of the drowned vocals, but
the band delivered a great show, all things considered.
I think the last three songs marked a gear change, as Jimmy made songs sung by Dave Gahan, John Robb and Mark Lanegan (again) his own and the spark became a flame in respect of the energy and driving force of the performance.
The set closed with Disbelief Suspension, a cover of the first song from Mark Lanegan Band's 2019 album Somebody's Knocking, which Rob co-wrote and played on. An hour after they first arrived on stage, Humanist left for the final time and the lights went up.
Mike and I spent the walk back to the car, processing what we'd just seen and heard and trying to work out if we'd actually enjoyed it or not. I think on balance we did, but the sound, the venue and certainly the audience did the band a disservice and I felt bad that Rob and co. may have come away thinking that it was a pretty flat end to their UK tour.
Interestingly, on Monday Mike shared a review of the same night by Richard Bowes for Live4Ever. It's a wonderfully written review, although reading the above you might think we were at different gigs. There's a lovely reference to "a reverential silence" between songs, which evokes a different feeling from the reality that it was largely down to a piss poor turnout. Richard notes that "the flicks of switches are clearly audible" at times; likewise, I could frequently hear my own applause above others, not what you'd usually expect at even a modestly-attended show.
We're all in agreement that Humanist are worth checking on record and stage, though. I'm going back to find the debut on the back of the Dareshack show and keep both albums on rotation for the rest of this year at least.
Given that I own only 50% of the Humanist catalogue so far, recreating the setlist as a Dubhed selection is beyond my reach. Therefore, I've instead plumped for YT links for each of the songs played, a few official videos, but mostly live performances filmed by the audience at several of their 2024 gigs. This means you can compare and contrast my description of the Dareshack gig with your own opinions. Let me know what you think.