The promise of Green Lung was the feeling of stepping into a Ben Wheatley film but with riffs.
There are Green man faces on the backdrop of the stage. The band’s photoshoots and Facebook posts boast paganic shenanigans.
I didn’t know Green Lung and before seeing them spent a while acquainting myself with their back catalog. It was clear that they were doing something that was inspiring a bunch of fans to love ‘em. It was also clear that they were making decent Rock music that harked back to the 1970s and the days before Heavy Rock got all spandex and stupid.
I can see why they inspire so much devotion. But my question is, what did they really have to say? I am not sure I am any the wiser after experiencing their live gig tonight upstairs at the Waterfront in Norwich. Yes, there were chunky riffs and yes, they had exploratory moments only hinted at in the recordings. However, there was a lack of subtlety and grace that permeated their busy bandcamp albums.
It was all just a bit of a trial by normalness. Lead singer Tom Templar had enough swagger to pull the audience in but he looked and behaved like a million lead singers have before and perhaps, clouding my judgment, a slightly spooky older guy who used to hang out in his car smoking weed in the local park when I was a teen. I was expecting a more mystical approach given the subject matter of the songs.
The rest of the jackblack band (Bassist Jo Ghast and Guitarist Scott Black both magnificently twiddly) were passionate in their playing but limited by the slightly formulaic nu-rock template. There is a way of painting yourself into a corner when you decide that your music is only going to cover one piece of the spectrum, and do it well. That’s not a bad thing and the band did cover this corner well, but it lacked elasticity, annoyingly hinted at in recordings.
I put most of this down to sidelining keyboard player John Wright who was low down in the mix and only nodded too by various band members to just get on with his widdly stuff when they ran out of reasons for their own widdling.
For all this quibbling, though Green Lung really did rock. I think the tiny stage upstairs at Norwich erstwhile specious Waterfront venue did not help. Not a lot of room for theatrics, however the quintet were sonically incendiary in the small space if not being able to be visually on fire.
There were wicked wicca guitar solos, underwater moments of euphoria in epic songs (that were unfortunately only matched by slightly more underwhelming sections). Matt Wisemans solid and brain busting drums kept the whole thing ticking nicely. There is groove in this band. There is also a willingness to construct decent new waves of metal and likewise ironically pleasing “hair metal” sounds. Templar never gets to the point of screaming but utilizes vocal prowess that the old Maiden Dickenson would be proud of. As would, Dare I say it, Axl Rose.
And it is there, the irony of loving the pompous. But I fear while this band is swimming in the wake of corny nu-metal they will find it hard to be seen as decent contenders to the throne, however much the fans disagree.
However, there are some really decent moments. The idea of chasing down some weird pagan ideas and turning them into rock songs is not new. But Green Lung is motivated by a passion for these ideas. It wasn’t a bad gig in the slightest. I just feel that the more expansive recordings on their two great albums on bandcamp did give a slightly different impression.
The audience was made up of a lovely community of fans of hard Rock and Metal and all its various iterations. Nutcases cuddly. But also Mums and Dads with tattoos. With this kind of devotion I think Green Lung will continue to grow and do well and I would be well up for seeing how they are doing.
Words by Dan Scoggins
Photos by Mark Stimpson
