Performers should surprise. Obviously they should entertain, too – perhaps shock, often amuse – but the thrill of a performance not being what you expected is particularly hard to beat.
Such was the reaction of the friend who accompanied me to see The Golden Dregs live at The 100 Club, when Benjamin Woods opened his mouth to begin the first song. ‘That voice? Coming from that man?!’
For context, Woods has a baritone that Iggy Pop would approve of – but that’s besides the point. The Golden Dregs are a vaguely Velvet Underground-esque group led by Woods, with their origins in Cornwall but currently based in London. Their brand of moody, exquisitely arranged balladry feels of a piece with Father John Misty and The National, underpinned by a very British sense of place, and a grooving, driving live band. Their lyrics are also delightfully, darkly funny.
Their headline show at The 100 Club is in support of their fourth album. The LP follows a period of tumult for the band – according to Woods, they were ‘abruptly dropped’ by their record label 4AD last year, and have spent the time since regrouping. They’ve written and recorded the new record, launched their own label, and are now touring Godspeed – an album that sounds remarkably joyous given the circumstances of its conception.
Taking to the stage, Woods is joined by just piano player Ted Mair to begin with, his gravelly monologue accompanied by Mair’s flourishes on the almost comically large grand piano on stage. Woods sways back and forth, with a real intensity about the way he grasps the microphone – he’s an undeniably captivating performer. After a few stripped-back tracks, the remaining band members – drums, bass, acoustic guitar and synths – join the fray. The Dregs’ is an Americana-infused sound: gritty at turns, but very tastefully wielded. You really get the sense that these songs have been pruned back to just the elements that need to be there.
However, as brilliant as some of the songwriting here is (and it really is – ‘American Airlines’, ‘Big Ideas’ and ‘Linoleum’ are all beautifully yearning and ferociously catchy), it’s slightly let down by the band’s live incarnation, especially compared to previous outings. In the past, the band have seemed a tightly drilled unit in all-white uniforms, with Woods prowling the stage, mic in hand. Tonight they seem a shaggier affair, with lots of fiddly swapping of instruments and awkward stage choreography. There’s also the matter of Woods’ voice – a delivery that deep and at times quiet is always going to be hard to mix, but layered under echoey effects, it was genuinely hard at times to make him out in the fray.
It’s a real shame, as the Golden Dregs songbook really feels like an overlooked contribution to the UK alternative music landscape – it’s hard to escape the thought that if they’d had their own ‘Seasons’, they could easily have been our answer to a band like Future Islands. The songs on show here are poignant and earnest reflections from a group of songwriters who are natural storytellers, and who can really groove when they want to. They remain a proposition worth catching in the flesh, even if right now it doesn’t quite live up to the heady heights they achieve on record – which must surely mean that the best is yet to come.
featured image: Declan Haughian
