By DJ Monk
It’s now the middle of November and the temperatures are rapidly plunging past the zero mark, so there’s only one thing to do, and that’s head out into the dark city streets in search of some hot rockin’ ‘n’ rollin’ action. And, lo, here it is, with the eagerly anticipated return to these shores of Texas boogie boys, the wonderfully named Quaker City Hawks, who have brought the last night of their tour to the deepest recesses of the dirty ol’ town of Belfast…
Our support act, as it has been for the duration of the tour, also hails from across the pond, but this they emanate from Noo Jersey. Taking to the stage exactly half an hour after their allotted time, Curran are an acoustic duo who deliver middle-of-the-road country-tinged blues very much in the vein of John Mellencamp, Tom Petty and Springsteen in his unplugged moments. They suffer a few sound problems, with lead guitarist Jam Moncur surprisingly low in the FOH mix, drowned out by the louder rhythms of frontman Mark Curran. The singer is an affable dude, although he does overplay the “good ol’ boy” image and the cheap pops about Belfast and, despite rattling through their set at a fairly frenetic pace, his level of crowd interaction helps garner a suitably positive response from the growing audience.
Talking of frenetic paces, there is a very quick turnaround of just ten minutes (well, it doesn’t take too long to unplug a couple of guitars, does it?) before the Quaker City Night Hawks climb onto the stage and ease their way in their brand of suvern blooze, with the emphasis on the “ooze”, delivered with a heavy Texas drawl. As early as the end of the appropriately entitled opener ‘Good Evening’, as frontman Sam Anderson (who bears more than a passing resemblance to a young Bob Seger) is acknowledging their previous visit to this particular corner of the Überverse (supporting Blackberry Smoke), the obviously knowledgeable fans are shouting out requests.
It’s a surprisingly laidback performance for the genre in which these particular Night Hawks operate: if you’re expecting music to which you can boogie your arse off, then I’m afraid your at the wrong gig; this is laconic, almost cathartic in its delivery, but nevertheless rich, vibrant and passionate. The excellent ‘Suit In The Back’ leads into a series of tunes from current album ‘QCNH’ – “nobody knows what that means,” quips Anderson in his typically sardonic style – as they continue with a performance that is perhaps more suited for an August afternoon on a beach than a freezing cold Friday night in Belfast. It’s also a set that has an understandable Stevie Ray Vaughn/ZZ Top vibe to it, as the Hawks are very obviously totally immersed in the Texas blues sound. It’s also tight, with an underlying latent energy that belies the somewhat easy style of the delivery, and comfortable, as only a band who very clearly live in each other’s pockets can feel (as evidenced by David Matsler’s comment that “we’d fire our guitar tech but we don’t have one” while Anderson has to replace his guitar strings prior to the well deserved encore of ‘Something To Burn’).
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