I keep saying I don’t like going to revival gigs, but nowadays it’s all I ever seem to do: a couple of weeks ago it was metal-punkers Therapy? and their resuscitation of ‘Troublegum‘, now it’s back in Leeds Leeds Leeds to witness the return of Northside.
One voice behind – obviously in answer to the question, ‘Who?’ – replies, ‘They were like a Madchester band that never made it’.
That’s being a bit harsh, but ultimately whether the Mancunian four piece made it or not is in hindsight a bit irrelevant. What is true is that there were plenty of other bands doing more interesting things at the time – Paris Angels, World Of Twist and The Bridewell Taxis to name a few – but what made Northside great was their unbridled hedonism; they had few pretensions to selling out G-Mex, and accordingly they had the characteristic swagger of loveable rogues.
Mick Roberts from the Taxis is here tonight as well, in fine mood and talking enthusiastically about starting a new project; for many outfits of the era it seems that treading the boards again is becoming a viable option. Northside frontman Dermo has spent the early evening in the neighbouring Royal Park pub, presumably making sure he’s refreshed in a legal way before he and the band’s other three original members Michael Upton, Paul Walsh and Cliff Ogier all clamber aboard someway past their 10pm stage time.
Given that the foursome only released a solitary album, ‘Chicken Rhythms‘, on Factory in 1991 this was a set that promised to be low on surprises (a second release went by the wayside with the label’s eventual collapse into bankruptcy), but tonight the intricacies of satisfying a demanding audience are someone else’s problem; this is more like a private party than a rock show, with few points awarded for artistic merit.
Pulling on cans of Red Stripe and asking where the audience have been for twenty years, Dermo and co. are clearly here for a good time and not a long time, with ‘Chicken Rhythms’ guiding principles – choppy funk guitar, narrow uncomplicated basslines and words culled from both terraces and terraced streets – the template for good, good double double goodness.
Anyway everyone’s down the front, loving it, taking a trip(!) in the wayback machine, recreating a time when dancefloors were places were you found people who became friends.
The band stroll through the likes of ‘Funky Munky‘ and ‘My Rising Star‘ with bags of ‘avin it, and even ‘Chicken Rhythms’ lesser songs like ‘Tour De World‘ are carried by a combination of equal parts enthusiasm and lager. In the meantime dozens of cagoules are moving like they’re possessed of a new energy, and the point of the music – forgetting day job hell and turning the weekends into 48 hour parties, people – is succinctly made.
We all get the chance to bounce up and down during ‘Take 5‘, the album’s one real Class A track, but the pharmaceutically tongue in cheek ‘Shall We Take a Trip‘ is just as good as when we remember it from, if only we could remember from exactly that.
At the end there are scallies giving out posters in the car park and lots of happy people. There was no merchandise, and although there are rumours of a new second album being written, fittingly Northside still seem to harbour no plans for world domination. Maybe that que sera sera attitude was always just the plan.
For most of us with a four day weekend ahead, seeing what tomorrow will bring is more than enough for now.
