With Scott Hutchison’s solo album in the offing, fans of Frightened Rabbit might fear this divergence in a band which, although led by the singer-songwriter, are still very much a unit.
They needn’t worry on this score. Despite being billed as an Owl John show, tonight’s 100-minute long gig is, essentially, Scott out of Frightened Rabbit solo, sporting some new material.
The tunes being debuted have begun to appear on the web of course, meaning that hard core fans tonight are already able to sing along, but the structure imposed on the early part of the gig – one Owl John tune, one oldie – is certainly not intended to challenge the audience with new material.
So opener ‘Hate Music’ – acoustic and lacking the pounding rhythms of the recorded version – opens the set to some acclaim, but this is overshadowed by the reception for ‘Modern Leper’. Hutchinson the lets us know “how this is going to work” – one tune (possibly an Owl John number) followed by one selected by whichever audience member can holler the title loud enough.
Of course, there’s also the banter. The singer, free from “those cunts behind me” and in particular brother Grant, is free to “talk too much”. Thus, we get his memories of Radiohead premiering Kid (“bored”, this influencing his setlist, or lack of it) and, given that his parents are present, the fact that he’s not done meth (yet).
Keeping that theme, the solo material has been billed as more “confessional” – ‘Stupid Boy’s “I’ll piss in public, I’ll shit the bed” couplet a prime example. But with the stripped-back, all-acoustic sound there’s a notable difference that’s hard to put your finger on. The tunes are slower, the guitar more strummed than choppy. On record, they’re more notably un-Rabbit-like, with shades of Idlewild and a very different production style.
The request format of the show works to an extent, in spite of the sort of running gag with oldie ‘Snake’ (basically, everyone shouts for it, Scott claims he’s not drunk enough). Though this pales into insignificance with one punter grinding down the beleaguered Scott until he plays ‘Music Now’, and just about getting away with it despite its general unsuitability for a solo show. The informality also extends to uncharacteristic cock-ups – forgotten lyrics for newie ‘Los Angeles Be Kind’ (“we’ll get back to that one”) and ‘Twist’ stopping halfway in for the revelation that Rabbits bassist Billy secretly mimed onstage for eight years without being found out.
In the end, most of the crowd favourites are covered, and the solo album gets a good airing, for anyone who fancies it. Judging by the reception it could well be as big a success as the band’s recent releases.
Though hopefully not too successful…