In his magnum opus ‘On the Road’, Jack Kerouac wrote at length, in passages of unmatched, heady prose, about the jazz musicians in the cities he came to on his travels across the USA through the medium of his character Sal Paradise. In fast-paced fits of reverence, his central characters, the aforementioned Sal and his fast living friend, Dean Moriarty, discuss the way these talented, skilled musicians “blow” – in reference to the act of blowing into brass instruments no doubt – and ‘blowing’ is a strictly good thing throughout the book. In modern America, inversely, ‘blowing’ has oddly come to mean the same as ‘sucking’. That is, if one blows at something, like playing a musical instrument, one is not particularly good at it. Etymology is a strange thing. As is the idea of a boutique by day/bar by night playing host to a blues influenced rock ‘n’ roll outfit in 2013, but strangeness is what Shoreditch is all about these days.
However odd it may seem, when experienced, it is as perfect a marriage as I can think of. The Blow at Paper Dress Vintage on Saturday night played a truly exhilarating gig. The Blow ‘blow’ in the Kerouacian sense most definitely. As musically skilled and well-drilled a rock band in London would be hard to find and the sheer intensity of drummer Danny Buster’s skin work, set against the virtuosity of guitarist Guy D’Angelo and the bellowing, booming voice of singer Tom Ferry with the stabilising and handy craftsmanship of bassist Eammon O holding it all together is the perfect chemical mixture. The Blow make a hell of a racket; at points sheer power and at points waves of distorted rock ‘n’ roll mayhem. It is somewhat like, well, the feeling one gets after having indulged in a line of blow.
As is their wont, as a band equally comparable to Aerosmith as The Stones, there is a huge sense of fun about The Blow. The whole thing is tinged with a good time feel and their brand of late ‘60s/early ‘70s rock ‘n’ roll lends itself to getting down and partying hard much more than it does to sitting attentively and taking in the musicianship appreciatively (though the musicianship is certainly something to behold). In line with the musical party atmosphere, a partisan audience were in appreciation throughout with most stood (some, however, were able to sit the whole way through) and some even letting the shackles off and dancing (or at least nodding heads and tapping their toes).
The band tore through their set and kept it strictly about the music, with breaks between songs few and far between. Personal highlights for me were the set opener ‘Innit a Shame’ and a fine rendition of Bowie’s ‘Ziggy Stardust’, just over halfway through, which has maybe never been covered with such swagger. In all honesty though the whole set was a joy to behold and at its zenith the whole of Paper Dress was in rapturous applause, and The Blow deserved at least that much. After all, these guys can really blow.
