I’m not normally given to violence, but I wish I had a rifle so I could pick off the meatheads who start booing The Thrills the second they walk on stage. Tonight is supposed to be a celebration of all things rock ‘n’ roll, but there’s a depressing number of people in The Point whose musical development seems to have arrested after Exile On Main Street.
One could argue that they’re merely mirroring the headliners in that regard, but for the time being I digress.
Despite the pockets of hostility, Conor Deasy & Co. run through So Much For The City’s best bits with note perfect aplomb. In short, sharp bursts, their retro pop is hard to resist, but over longer stretches it starts coagulating into an overly sweet lump of West Coast candyfloss. If The Thrills are to avoid becoming this year’s Toploader, they’re going to have to get over their twin Beach Boys and Eagles fixations and bring something of their own to the party.
Which kicks off tonight when the house lights dim and the Stones launch into their last truly great single, ‘Start Me Up’. For all of Mick’s step-aerobics – I’m knackered just watching him – and Ronnie’s outrageous shape throwing, the star of the show is Keef. Resplendent in a blue lamé jacket, and with what looks like half a birds-nest woven into his hair, Richards’ playing on ‘You Got Me Rocking’, ‘Don’t Stop’ and ‘Rocks Off’ is breathtaking. His lead vocal performances on ‘The Nearness Of You’ and ‘Before They Make Me Run’ may be less so but, hey, you’ve got to allow a guitar hero his indulgences.
With no new album to dutifully plug – hooray! – the hits come thick and fast. While almost sounding like their own tribute band on ‘Satisfaction’ and ‘Jumping Jack Flash’, the late ‘60s/early ‘70s likes of ‘Angie’, ‘You Can’t Always Get What You Want’, ‘Street Fighting Man’ and ‘Midnight Rambler’ are delivered with a passion that’s as intense as it is perhaps surprising given the group’s advancing years.
The best moment of the night, though, comes when Charlie switches into Animal-from-The Muppets-mode and together with his bandmates beats the crap out of ‘Paint It Black’.
One suspects that somewhere Brian Jones is grinning like a village idiot.