dan sartain, plate six and two tears

A few short months later and he’s back, seemingly enjoying more interest over here than on home turf. And he’s brought friends. Two Tears came on at the ludicrously early time of half seven, treating the bar staff to an exclusive performance. I picked up the trail for Plate Six, who, being furry of beard, plaid of shirt and hefty of guitar, did a marvellous job of warming up for the more lithesome pleasures of Sartain. A friend of mine was reminded of Mudhoney. I kept thinking of a more meaty, less ‘yikes!’ version of Fugazi. Not overly encumbered by tunes, but good stuff nonetheless. Dan Sartain seems to have been tagged with some dreadful ‘punk Johnny Cash’ label. Damnable laziness. On stage today, he seem to have taken a deliberate step back from all that. The Brylcreem’d quiff and 50’s threads have gone, replaced by floppy fringe, white t-shirt and a manner which can only be described as chirpy (more Milky Bar than Billy The). But the flick-knife cheekbones, late-nite TV palour and whippet thin frame are the same, and as he cranks up his set, dwarfed by a beat up Gretsch style guitar, he stands tall in some pretty long shadows. Backed by David Hickox (also of Plate Six) and stand-in drummer Brad Wilcox (drumming for all three of tonights bands), Sartain fires up his dark southern tales of God, knifefights and heartbreak. He rips through the rockabilly menace of ‘Guns vs Knife’, a taut, stripped-down, throat-grabber of a song. A rather listless version of the single ‘Replacement Man’ still has people singing along and dancing (you don’t get that kind of nonsense in London). On the slower songs (such as ‘Flight of the Finch’), the picked tremolo of his guitar and Texmex rhythmns sound like gutsier version of Calexico - more barfights, less crooning by moonlight. He’s at his fiercest and best on ‘Rocknroll Part 2’ which has the groove of Chuck Berry with the propulsive drive of the Ramones. If the songs were starting to sound a bit the same, this one brought the crowd right back. Later in the set he’s joined by another member of Plate Six on rhythm guitar, which clogs up the sound. And while Brad Wilcox deserves credit for endurance drumming, Sartain’s main drummer Rajaan (who’ll be joining later in the tour) is right at the core of the sound; what Frank Beard was to ZZ Top or Doug Clifford to Creedence Clearwater Revival. Togther they make a tight, lean, purposeful three-piece which really does bring to mind the no-frills sound of 50’s Sun Recordings. Tonight it’s not quite there. But the crowd are up for it and Sartain himself is right on song. The mythology of the south has been done to death and we’ve been served up plenty of fakes (Jim White, anybody?), but this guy does a fine job of injecting a bit of God-fearing, heat-crazed fervour into a very cold corner of the UK. Guns or knives? Knives everytime.