Black Rebel Motorcycle Club The Powerstation, Auckland Friday, July 23
In their decade-long existence, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club have gone from playing psychedelic and hazy rock'n'roll, to stripped-back blues and thudding porch songs. On their fifth and latest album, the coolly titled Beat the Devil's Tattoo, they bring all these sounds together - and it makes for a triumphant, loud and beautifully sprawling live show.
While the thumping War Machine gets the night off to a dark and dour start, it's the chest-beating catch cry and heavy stomp of Beat the Devil's Tattoo (the song) that kicks the show into its swagger and groove.
Apart from a couple of gentler, acoustic diversions it's a scorching mood the San Francisco natives - made up of founding members Robert Levon Been (bass, vocals) and Pete Hayes (guitar/vocals), and relentless drummer Leah Shapiro - keep up throughout the hour and a half set. It takes in songs from 2001 debut B.R.M.C., including the harrowing and arcing riffs of Red Eyes and Tears, through the excellent sing and clap along of Shuffle Your Feet off 2005's Howl, a fiery Weapon of Choice from Baby 81, to a heap of new songs off Devil's Tattoo.
Shapiro, a recent recruit, doesn't have many fills and frills, but she is a powerful and solid rock'n'soul machine. As one chap standing next to me says, who had seen the band overseas a few times with their old drummer, she gives them a new lease of life.
Early on Hayes' voice sounds like it needs a little of what Shapiro is on, because Love Burns, probably one of the band's most moving songs, is washed out and weak. But all is forgiven, because when he warms up, the lad can holler, sing and soar with both a ravaged and pure lilt.
Meanwhile, Been's dreary monotone has a strangely impressive presence, and his mix of thrumming and pounding bass is the perfect compliment to Hayes and his Johnny Cash-meets-Jesus and Mary Chain guitar style.
Elsewhere Bad Blood is stunning, like a leather clad Coldplay; Spread Your Love slugs its way out into the room; and towering highlight is the strobing punk frenzy and jump along to Whatever Happened To My Rock'n'Roll.
The finale includes a 10-minute plus version of Shadow's Keeper, which moves from a massacre of distortion, to a tranquil clap along, and back again, before the acoustic hoorah of Open Invitation. Which was lovely and all, but they would have been better off waving goodbye amidst the sonic mayhem, and leaving their instruments to feedback on stage. Because it's rare that three people can make as much beautiful noise as this, and that's when BRMC are at their best. Blistering and beautiful.
