As if we’d miss the last ever Wet Nuns gig in London. Having tipped them as a good band way back in February 2012, we then did all sorts of things like review them live and on CD. REVOLUTIONARY! Here’s another review by David Keevill. The last review… (Because it’s a month old.)
6 things we learnt at Wet Nuns’ final gig in London
1) If anyone was teetering on the verge of getting teary-eyed at Wet Nun’s last ever London gig, then they hid it well. This didn’t feel like a farewell. There was nothing grandiose, nothing even vaguely resembling a eulogy and even their departure from the stage after an hour of rattling skulls was understated.
2) Not to be outdone, the main support Loom play as if they don’t even have an eighth of a shit to give. I mean, there’s a lot to be said for the creeping, droney maw of Joy Division and matted bangs a la Kurt Cobain, but the audience just don’t warm to it. Even the low-end groove of ‘Acid King City’ rouses the most desultory of applause.
3) Nothing could be more different for Wet Nuns. The Lexington is rammed when they get on stage, and the audience make up a cross section of the alternative community. Gleefully absent, however, are the gratuitous circle-pitters; Wet Nuns are abominably heavy, but they’re the last band in the world to throw in a breakdown to appease the m0sh-spaffers.
4) This, their final tour, airs on the eve of their debut album release, a record which we rightfully shouted about last month. When we’ve seen Wet Nuns before, songs like ‘Throttle’ and ‘Why So Cold?’ have made up the bulk of their set, providing immediate gratification in the form of huge, shuddering riffs. This new batch of songs give equal clout to their set, although, being album-suited, take a little more time to deliver their heft.
5) But when they do, it’s business as usual (if your business is smashing sledgehammers into piñatas full of beer and tits). The stuttered verse riff of ‘7 Year Itch’ falls into its big, fat chorus groove and the crowd move their heads accordingly, all eyes fixated on these two men who are creating the noise of ten. Their mid-song patter is tuned to sarcastic and, at times, make them seem somewhat apathetic, but this music is crafted of an aggression and feeling that rocks us back on our heels with each sadistic blow.
6) ‘Throttle’, in all its dirty-sexy gravity comes and goes, and before we know it, we’re ushered out in the chilly Islington night. The lack of ceremony is unbelievably apt for a band who’ve spent half a decade playing down to expectations. Wet Nuns are the perfect contrarians, but so are Thrash Hits. We’re drunk, emotional, and prone to hyperbole, so this is the best gig we’ve seen all year. There’s your fucking eulogy.