DEADLETTER + THE JOY HOTEL – PATTERNS, BRIGHTON 12.11.23
Through talent, determination, and sheer hard work, South London based six-piece DEADLETTER have established themselves as one of the most exciting bands on the live circuit. An angular and interesting take on post-punk, they have an agit pop quality reminiscent of 1980s bands like Gang of Four, though the lyrics tend to be observational rather than polemical, inviting the listener to draw their own conclusion. Formed by three friends who grew up together in Yorkshire, the band has been through some personnel changes to arrive at the current lineup. Since we last reviewed them at The Great Escape Festival in May, they have been touring continuously around Europe and the UK. Their persistence has been rewarded, with their ‘Heat’ EP and subsequent singles playlisted on Radio One and BBC6 Music, and a high profile BBC Music Introducing slot during the interval at Headingley Cricket Stadium. Tonight’s show at Patterns, promoted by Form, comes at the end of this long trek, although there is one further date in December at The Scala in London. Needless to say, tonight is completely sold out.
First up are Glasgow seven-piece The Joy Hotel, who layer vocal harmonies over their own blend of classic rock and pop, mixed in with a cinematic and expansive sort of desert psych. Whatever it is, it sounds massive, and is dense and complex music, though in a melodic and pleasing way. There’s a lot going on. I’m also hugely impressed that in these straitened times it’s still possible to put on a modestly-priced gig with a six-piece headline act and a seven-piece support. I shudder to think what they’re all eating and where they’re sleeping, but I’m very glad they’ve found a way to make it work.
Luke and Emme share the lead vocals, often duetting, and swapping between guitar and keyboard. Jack dispatches beautifully fluid fills around the kit, and there’s another Jack, flailing his long hair and grooving busily on a violin bass. Juan is mainly on keyboards, house left, and just to be on the safe side there are two further guitarists: Jenny, house right, on electric, and the moustachioed Scott on acoustic. Other than drummer Jack, everyone else chips in with backing vocals, so it’s a rich and varied overall sound.
Opener ‘Twenty Three (A Comedy)’ starts with a harmony duet and moves through various phases, including a poppy progression and even a little burst in waltz time. It sounds like a mashup of all the bands I was studiously ignoring in the 1970s, because us punks didn’t listen to that sort of thing. It quickly becomes apparent that each song is going to segue into the next, forming one giant medley. The music never really stops, and other than an occasional mumbled “we’re from Glasgow”, there isn’t any between song chat. Emme takes most of the lead vocals for ‘Killing Time’, whose retro American radio vibe builds to a more pomp rock section that swoops and soars. I like the circularity of the lyric: “I can’t keep killing time until time kills me”. ‘First Joy’ starts slowly then thunders through a section of whole band stabs, with bassist Jack doing a wonderfully fluid wiggling dance, and I can’t help but smile at the gorgeous jangly guitar of ‘Jeremiah’, whose intro riff dances somewhere between ‘Dear Prudence’ and ‘10538 Overture’. Luke and Juan swap instruments for ‘Black Balloon’, which features keyboard triggered string sounds, tumbling fills, a gloriously busy bass run, and even a burst of mass whistling. Juan stays on guitar for the conclusion, and is throwing great shapes to match his impressive licks. There’s all sorts of stuff happening, and somehow we move from a sort of comedy western giddy-up to a high-speed prog wig out. Emme holds a toy megaphone over her guitar pickup, close to the vocal mic, and a weird wailing siren plays us out. I’ve been rather impressed by The Joy Hotel, and if they sound like your sort of thing, their debut album ‘Ceremony’ is available to order via their website.
The Joy Hotel:
Luke Boyce – vocals, guitar, keyboards
Emme Woods – vocals, guitar, keyboards
Jack Boyce – drums
Juan Laforet – keyboards, guitar, vocals
Jack Borrill – bass, vocals
Jenny Clifford – guitar, vocals
Scott Flanagan – acoustic guitar, vocals
The Joy Hotel setlist:
‘Twenty Three (A Comedy)’
‘Killing Time’
‘First Joy’
’Jeremiah’
‘Black Balloon’
‘Grab The Diamond’
With quite a few players in each band, it takes a little while to reset the stage. It’s getting pretty rammed down at the front, and there’s a palpable buzz of excitement. The arrival of DEADLETTER is heralded by the familiar stab-and-bend motif of ‘Weights’, supplied by guitarists Will and Sam at either extremity of the stage. Behind the kit, Alfie seems to be channelling Reni of The Stone Roses tonight, with a bucket hat and a shuffle beat. Saxophonist Poppy and bassist George take their places, followed by frontman Zac, who starts the set in a red jumper with a star design. I don’t imagine that will stay on for long. The song glowers moodily, enhanced by vibey low sax notes, before transitioning neatly into the bass-driven stomp of ‘Madge’s Declaration’, full of nifty stops and tumbling drum fills. The audience around me are shouting along enthusiastically to the “I’ve got shoes, but no soul” hook. “Brighton, it’s time to get down and dirty,” Zac announces, and sure enough the crowd goes crazy and the singer is grooving manically, waving a tambourine above his head.
Things calm down slightly for newer number ‘Murdered’, the slow and atmospheric intro giving way to a lovely bouncing bassline. George is getting plenty of punch from his short scale Mustang, and Poppy’s jazzy sax lines provide a contrast to the urgency of the vocal. I’ll look forward to hearing that recorded. Recent single ‘Degenerate Inanimate’ is rather more familiar and very well-received. More funky bass drives a song that rails against dishonesty and betrayal. Disgraced President Richard Nixon and local archaeological fraud Piltdown Man pop up in the snarled stream of lyrical invective. Zac’s jumper is discarded, and he’s over the barrier and into the crowd during a brief break of juddering tremolo guitar. I’m seriously impressed that after so many tour dates he’s still got the energy to vault the barrier in a single bound. Maybe it’s ‘Hysterical Strength’, which is the title of another newer piece, full of rattling snare rolls and a rapid-fire lyric interwoven with a serpentine sax line.
“Brighton! How the f*ck are we?” Zac enquires. We’re good, thank you for asking, and even better as the infectiously urgent single ‘The Snitching Hour’ starts up. Tongue-wagging nosey neighbours are the topic this time, and I love the image of hiding in the flowerbeds, camouflaged in a ghillie suit. The crowd are getting very lively indeed, shouting along to the chorus. More wonderfully oscillating shimmers of guitar open ‘Hero’, with its pained “It burns, it burns, it burns” vocal. Alfie provides an insistent clank on a woodblock, counterintuitively made of red plastic. ‘Haunting’ is new to me, with an interesting rhythm and moody sax.
“Usually we give this one a big drawn out introduction, but I don’t think it needs one, to be honest, Brighton.” It certainly doesn’t, because it’s the air-punching chantalong early single ‘Fit For Work’. If you’re not familiar, the lyric, delivered in character, is an acerbic observation of the inhumanity of the contracted-out assessment of disability benefits, punctuated by the furious chant of the title. The crowd is joining in with fervent enthusiasm, and dancing with frenzied excitement in the instrumental breaks. Zac takes it down to better appreciate the audience’s contribution. I don’t think he’s likely to be disappointed.
Busy bass and howls of guitar effects are encircled by a gloriously descending sax line in another newer piece, ‘Credit’. It’s got a real 1980s vibe that seems eerily familiar, even though it’s relatively new, and it builds to a satisfying juddering crescendo. The ludicrously catchy ‘Binge’ is the band’s most successful track to date, having clocked a creditable million plays on Spotify. Having asked for a big hand for support act The Joy Hotel, Zac brings the band members on stage. “Let’s get a bit tighter for this one,” he suggests, though with all the players on stage it’s pretty cosy on both sides of the barrier, and both sections provide a suitably vociferous contribution to the “Wants! Needs! Hopes! Dreams!” chant.
‘Deus Ex Machina’ is unreleased, although I remember seeing two very impressive performances of it at The Great Escape Festival back in May. In case you nodded off in your literature lessons, the latin phrase refers to those cheesy plot devices where some previously unknown external force intervenes to sort out whatever mess the story has got itself into. The song starts with a slow section with a bit of a psych vibe, and Zac is back into the crowd, encouraging everyone to sit down. It’s not easy in the space available, but quite a few do, and the shirtless frontman sits, guru-like, amongst his devoted audience. It’s quite a sight. Needless to say, the number soon becomes very lively indeed, and our man returns to the stage with another athletic bound. There’s a nifty false ending, and a properly manic actual ending.
“Brighton…thank you very much,” Zac acknowledges to the rapturous applause. “This is day sixty for us.” That is quite a schedule, and I feel tired on the band’s behalf. We’re told they’re off to record an album now, and they’ll see us next year. I can’t wait on both counts. There’s the small matter of two more songs to play. ‘It Flies’ is also familiar from The Great Escape set, and is an absolute cracker, with the insistent lyric “the unrepentant flicker of the television set” drilled forcibly into my consciousness. All the players are getting busy, and Zac is testing the integrity of the venue’s crowd barrier by rattling it violently. It’s no surprise that the set concludes with the brooding epic ‘Zeitgeist’, its throbbing bass overlaid with freaky shimmers of guitar and honking sax. “There’s something in the air… there’s a storm coming,” Zac bellows, accompanied by a couple of hundred backing vocalists. I think the storm might have already arrived. The instrumentation builds and builds to a howling climax, and the frontman drops the mic onto the stage floor, puts on his red jumper, and walks off. It’s all over.
That was seriously high quality entertainment for a Sunday evening, delivered with passion, skill, and admirable intensity. We’re living through some strange times, and the communal catharsis of a DEADLETTER show certainly hit the spot for me. They’re definitely on an upward trajectory, so if you’re not familiar yet, I suspect that maybe you soon will be.
DEADLETTER:
Zac Lawrence – vocals
George Ullyott – bass, vocals
Alfie Husband – drums, vocals
Will King – guitar, vocals
Sam Jones – guitar
Poppy Richler – sax, vocals
DEADLETTER setlist:
‘Weights’ (from ‘Heat’ EP 2022)
‘Madge’s Declaration’ (from ‘Heat’ EP 2022)
‘Murdered’ (unreleased)
‘Degenerate Inanimate’ (single 2023)
‘Hysterical Strength’ (unreleased)
‘The Snitching Hour’ (single 2023)
‘Hero’ (single 2022)
‘Haunting’ (unreleased)
‘Fit For Work’ (single 2020)
‘Credit’ (unreleased)
‘Binge’ (from ‘Heat’ EP 2022)
‘Deus Ex Machina’ (unreleased)
‘It Flies’ (unreleased)
‘Zeitgeist’ (from ‘Heat’ EP 2022)
