Teenage Fanclub, Shepherd's Bush Empire, London

Reviewed,Ben Walsh
Friday 11 June 2010 00:00 BST
Comments
(PA)

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

"I've got a pocketful of words in my brain/ I pull something out when I think I should," Raymond McGinley croons pleasantly on the exquisite "Verisimilitude" from 1995's Grand Prix, Teenage Fanclub's majestic pop album that's nearly right up there with Fool's Gold, Sugar's Copper Blue and Help!. It contains the sort of shimmery loveliness you could safely shoot off into space, confident it would enhance intergalactic relations. While their latest, Shadows, doesn't scale these giddy heights it still feels as summery as Sue Barker biting on a strawberry on Centre Court, and the new tracks, such as the plinky-plonk new single "Baby Lee", don't sag (that much) tonight.

Formed in 1989 and now nine albums down the line, this fortysomething Glaswegian outfit still make pop seem so easy. A tad too easy. They've never seemed too fussed with courting public favour, nonchalantly going about their melody-strong business. And it appears to suit their similarly aged and attired – T-shirts, jeans – audience just dandy. However, it's hard to forgive how absurdly understated and low key they appear on stage. They don't rock out, they don't much sway, they just play and rarely explain themselves. Sometimes the set errs perilously close to nodding-off territory. The mood, thankfully, lifts with each Grand Prix song – "Neil Jung", "Sparky's Dream" and their rousing "About You".

The Fannies, as they're affectionately called, have acquired many cheerleaders in their 21 years, including Kurt Cobain, Liam Gallagher, Nick Hornby and most crucially Alan McGee, who signed them to his Creation label and oversaw their 1991 breakthrough Bandwagonesque. And "The Concept" off that grunge-tinged album is a [nearly] raucous highlight.

The Fannies are very easy to admire, but just a little less easy to love. They rarely get to the "guts" of the matter. They're too comfortable with their pretty melodies. There's not enough spite, insight or vitriol. But that's my problem.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in