The
Chills
EartH, Dalston, London June 16, 2023
One of the three songs played tonight from The Chills' most recent
album, 2021's Scatterbrain is Hourglass, a ruminative take on mortality.
‘Do the years go by?’ Martin Phillipps asks in the song,
before answering: ‘Only when you're counting’.
It’s been 6 long years since The Chills last graced these shores,
and about 10 since Phillipps won his struggles against booze, drugs
and Hepatitis C. Thus, although we don’t exactly see a new man
before us tonight, we do see a man on a renewed mission. Clearly,
time has not run out on the legacy of Martin Phillipps.
Here’s the thing about The Chills – even after 40 plus years
they remain enigmatic.
One of the reasons for this might be the numerous line-up changes
that have seemingly blighted the band’s upward trajectory over
the years, whether enforced by circumstances or wilfully contrived.
Indeed, so indivisible are the changes and identity of the band that
Martin Phillips has literally created an Honourable Order of Past
Members by attributing numbers to each, with the lowest belonging
to the co-founders and the highest to the latest recruits. For example,
“Chill #4” is Jane Dodd, the band’s first bassist,
whilst “Chill #31” is Erica Scally, multi-instrumentalist,
and member of the band for some 16 years.
And so it is that the 21st version of The Chills, comprising Callum
Hampton (Bass/Trumpet/Backing Vocals), Todd Knudson (Drums/Backing
Vocals), Chill #31 Erica Scally (Guitar/Keyboards/Violin/Backing Vocals),
Oli Wilson (Keyboards/Backing Vocals), and Martin Phillips (Guitar
and vox) took to the stage to deliver a thrilling 19 song set traversing
the band’s career from their very first recording, 1980’s
Kaleidoscope World, to Monolith, from the aforementioned Scatterbrain.
Kicking things off, however, is the appropriately haunting Night of
Chill Blue, a brooding masterpiece that is the signature sound of
an artist who is in equal measure reflective and yearning. It may
not be obvious, but Martin Phillipps writes great love songs, by which
I mean songs of sensual and sensitive power.
Phillipps dives into the brine of our emotional and instinctive make
ups and goes where the currents take him till the waves break on the
shores of his experience. His lyrics – both crowded with allusion
and silent with elision – arrive in your mind like realisations
of what you feel but can’t express. No songs tonight better encapsulate
this than Pink Frost and Submarine Bells, two tracks that are the
finest exponents of Noir-Pop. Indeed, Submarine Bells – sung
with the stage in darkness and Phillipps under a spotlight –
is, for me, both the quintessential Phillips song - showcasing his
skill and achievement as a writer capable of scaling the sublime -
and the highlight of the night.
From the band’s first single Rolling Moon through to the commercially
successful Heavenly Pop Hit and The Male Monster from the Id, tonight’s
audience is treated to a cornucopia of The Chills’ finest moments.
In what seemed a spontaneous gesture to a friend in the audience,
the band launched into the wonderfully moreish Lord of All I Survey
from 2018’s Snowbound. There was even a doff of the cap to an
unreleased song from the very first days of the band – Stay Longer.
It was, said Phillips, a harbinger of future releases which will include
outtakes, rehearsals, and live tracks. On the evidence of tonight
- with songs like Doledrums sounding as relevant and fresh as any
current indie pop – the band’s output is timeless.
The night ends with the Riff-tastic and crowd pleasing I Love My Leather
Jacket. To the uninitiated, the song might simply come over as a direct
rival to the “let’s go!” joy of The Undertones, and
the swagger of Oasis. Instead, it is a brilliantly disguised song
about loss and grief, referencing the leather jacket bequeathed to
Phillips by his late friend and former Chills drummer, Martyn Bull.
As joyous as it is to hear, the song relates to the event that eventually
sent the deep feeling Phillips into a spiral of ever-increasing alcohol
and drug abuse that even today continues to inform his writing.
Long before the show’s conclusion we had been eating out of Martin
Phillip’s hand. By the time the last chord of I Love My Leather
Jacket had rung itself out, the roles had been reversed. It was clear
to see that the band was really enjoying all the love coming its way.
In my experience this can sometimes mean that the performer forgets
who they are there for and a certain self-indulgence can spoil the
overall performance. In the case of Martin Phillipps, however, one
suspects this could never happen. For someone so lucky to be alive
and so laser focused on a legacy no longer threatened by premature
death, integrity is the only capital.
Tonight’s gig was the product of a career lived in the certainty
of how special the sound and songs of The Chills are. Such certainty
replicates itself. For this reason, no incarnation of The Chills has
ever been superior to its predecessor or better than that which followed,
no matter the numbers of the members concerned. Certain line-ups have
had more chemistry than others, that’s undeniable, but none have
ever lacked nor fallen short of brilliance.
The Chills inspire love, and that, right there, is all the fame and
success anyone needs!
Words
David Sedley
Pics Sasha Maese, more here
https://www.instagram.com/sashamaesephotography
2016 interview here
Review of 'The Curse of The Chills' and more here
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