The Coral live in London (Alberto Pezzali / Live4ever)
Scouse royalty The Coral have always existed in their own bubble, but since launching their label Skeleton Key they’ve expanded the membership of the club.
Support act for this autumn tour, She Drew The Gun, are one such example, and their powerful pop sustained attention during their short set. Resister Reprise is a raucous belter while Poem brought things to street level, singer Louisa Roach channelling her outrage through gritted teeth and a charming voice. Observational musings on the shortcomings of 21st century Britain, it echoes some of Jamie T’s more plaintive moments. Hardly ones to watch as they are now on their second album, but certainly ones to check out.
Once The Coral take to the stage, it’s full speed ahead. Opening with Sweet Release, James Skelly taking dual vocals with bassist Paul Duffy, it’s a pulsating start that then fed into the scuzz-psyche of Chasing The Tail Of A Dream. As most of the songs in their catalogue are succinct, it’s a bewildering assault on the senses as they rattle through the hits. Few corners of their canon were untouched, with only 2004’s Nightfreak & The Sons Of Becker and the ‘lost’ album The Curse Of Love unsurprisingly not represented.
Strangely, but hearteningly for a band that have been operating for over twenty years, the newer songs from this year’s Move Through The Dawn got as good a reaction as the classics. As Skelly introduced each with ‘this one’s from our new album’, the crowd cheered so loudly that it was often hard to hear what the song actually was. Fortunately, Stormbreaker itself didn’t suffer from the same problem; they probably heard the stomping back home in Hoylake.
Hugely underrated anyway, The Coral’s most unheralded attribute is how many beautiful songs they have written. Pass It On has one of the most wistful yet catchy melodies one is likely to hear, Jacqueline a melancholy tale and Rebecca You, which Skelly described on this nightas ‘one of my favourite songs of ours’ breaks the heart before haunting the head, with lead guitarist Paul Molloy expanding the song with an extended solo at the end.
Indeed, Molloy is now the band’s most potent weapon; when Distance Inbetween was released nearly three years ago it was notable for its slightly heavier sound, due to his inclusion, in a live environment Molloy takes things to the next level. Every song is beefed up, including their more acoustic offerings such as In The Morning, but it’s when he wigs out that he flies; Holy Revelation has evolved into an absolute beast with its extended Hendrix outro, while the lead guitar on 1000 Years rips into the night. Elsewhere, the fable of Bill McCai gallops as it always did, but with added muscle.
Molloy has the luxury of flying whilst the rest of the band are water-tight. Duffy is the heart of the band, engaging with the crowd (checking the day of the week, their head in the clouds as ever), while Ian Skelly on skins is the solid base, enabling his pals to orbit around him. Nick Power on keys brings the atmosphere that is so subtle but integral, especially on their cover of The Yardbird’s Heart And Soul. You don’t notice it often, but you certainly would if it wasn’t there.
They all got their moments to shine on the first song of the encore, Goodbye. Molloy and James had a wig-out each, Ian had an opportunity to show what he can do on drums while Duffy got a small solo. Of course, what followed next was truly Duffy’s moment; Dreaming Of You’s instantly recognisable bass intro bringing the house down, gone is the ramshackle whimsy.
This is a tight, cohesive rock band operating at the peak of their powers.
