1,444 SUGAR, J Robbins, London Kentish Town Forum, Saturday 23rd May 2026

 

“I want to see if people are still interested…” This, according to a “Rolling Stone” interview with the man himself, was the typically understated reason behind US alternative rock innovator and icon Bob Mould’s scarcely believable but extraordinarily welcome decision last October to reunite his short-lived but seminal 90’s post-grunge power trio Sugar for a select few gigs. Honestly, whatever the reason, don’t care, I’m there! An initial slew of US/UK gigs were announced, including a double-header at Kentish Town Forum, where (in its’ former Town And Country Club guise) I’d had my ears blown off for the first time by this lot back in September 1992 (gig 221), so I booked a couple of tix for the first, Saturday, date, for me and interested party son Logan the second they hit the O2 pre-sale. Having sold both dates out in predictably short order, Sugar later announced a second tranche of shows, one at the much nearer Bristol Electric, but by then we were in a headspace for a day up the Smoke, so stuck with the original plan!

Some extra tix became available late on, and after a bit of to-ing and fro-ing, we were joined for Logan’s long-time friend Chloe for the day out, and for her first gig – ever! Hoo boy, talk about a baptism of fire…! We headed off just after midday down a sun-baked M4, parking up in the usual Kentish Town pre-booked parking spot, and tubing down to a packed and boiling Camden. Old friend Thom was up from Bristol, so we met up and chatted in the shade of Camden Boxpark whilst the youngsters shopped, ostensibly for shorts for Logan (my errant son going against parental advice and wearing heavy jeans out, then realising his error in the heat!). Street food in a Camden Market pod, then back to the motor to dump purchases and on to the Bull And Gate for much-needed pre-gig refreshments. Spotted a familiar face there, in the ‘don’s veteran punk band Charred Hearts’ estimable mainman Dermot, the man joining us for a chat outside which, when old friend Keith showed up, turned into a Swindon old school punk rock summit meeting! 

Eventually hit the queue and, after a false start, got in on the O2 Priority and bagged barrier spots, house right for a change – it’s Bob’s side, so there! A slow fill took us to just before 8, when we were joined by solo support J Robbins, former vocalist of 90’s post-hardcore grunge-adjacent US lot Jawbox. A band I didn’t know back then, I enjoyed J’s intricate, almost baroque guitar picking on yearning opener “Anodyne”, likening it to Massachusetts folk rabble Cordelia’s Dad, and giving the man props for good use of the word “supine”! A surprisingly tuneful “Exquisite Corpse”, recalling late period Posies, was juxtaposed with the goth horror of the lyric, and whilst some numbers seemed too intricate for their own good (viz. “Outside The Aviary”), J’s self-effacing charm generally won out. “Dear Leader”, a vitriolic anti-Trump protest song (“I found out I share a birthday with Trump – I very much do not love it!”) was well-received, and the off-kilter Primus rhythm of Jawbox’ hit “Savory” was preceded by recollections of that 90’s post-grunge record industry feeding frenzy. A strident paean to his adopted Baltimore closed out an engaging set from a likeable 90’s survivor simply glad to still be playing in such venues, a closing remark being, “if you told me back then I’d be playing on this show, I’d have shit a brick!”

Passed the interval, as the place properly filled up, with some lively rock chat with Kurt, who’d flown in from his native Alberta, Canada for the gig as he refused to fly South! Good on you, fella! The lights dimmed and, accompanied by The Beatles’ “She Said, She Said” as jaunty intro music, Bob and the boys wandered nonchalantly onstage, plugged in and positively tore into the rock-solid opening riff and rhythm to a brilliantly strident “The Act We Act”, the years falling away. “Act” was, as expected, followed by the creepy “Debaser” bass intro to an equally awesome “A Good Idea”, the “Copper Blue” opening triad being completed with the four-alarm fire ringing opening of a quite magnificent “Changes”. What. A. Start!

“We had to pick the hottest weekend of the Summer to do this, right?” quipped an unusually voluble Bob, before his pocket dynamo buddy, bassist Dave Barbe, lent his vocals to a more languid “Company Book”, the pace and intensity inevitably dropping after that breathless opening (although that was admittedly due to the sheer incandescent magnificence of the opening 3, rather than any shortcomings from the subsequent material). “We’re from the god-forsaken USA,” admitted Bob to pantomime boos before the anthemic “Hoover Dam”, realigning the crowd with, “we’re here to rock, we’re here to have fun!” The descending riff of a ragged “Where Diamonds Are Halos” was again overlaid by Dave’s vocals, nasal and much lighter in comparison to his bandleader’s guttural and stentorian roar; “Your Favorite Thing” was discordant yet insanely groovy and singalong; and the hurtling instrumental “Clownmaster” almost turned into the outro of “Debaser”! Throughout all of this Bob, as ever, prowled the stage like a caged bear and fired riff after riff into the hot and frenzied auditorium like a sub-machine gun, a beatific grin never far from his snowy beard-embellished features. And then it got better… oh boy, did it… 

“We’ve got a couple more numbers for you,” Bob deadpanned before the gyroscopic centrifuge of a savage “Tilted”, powered by some dynamic drum fills from strongarmed veteran sticksman Malcolm Travis; then set closer “JC Auto” topped even that, a fist-pumping, undulating, orgiastic and cacophonous set highlight, Bob delivering one final thunderous vocal roar then pausing to deliver a HHH-style water spray before joining his comrades offstage, leaving his beleaguered guitar squealing feedback in his wake. Woah.

As if deliberately planned to clear the air after that visceral set-closing double, the encores then showcased arguably Sugar’s “poppiest” moments; the delicious descending bassline of “Helpless”, an irresistibly infectious “Gee Angel” and an utterly joyous “If I Can’t Change Your Mind”, rounding off a quite superb showing, Bob and Dave then taking deserved bows. By then we’d been joined at the front by Andrew, vocalist of the excellent Stayawakes, although a combination of my fruitlessly trying for a list (being used tomorrow, fair enough…) and his early train conspired against a lengthier catch up. So we met the balcony-bound Keith in the foyer, bade farewell to Thom and achily wandered back to the car (no mosh tonight, but my dancing and singing along in situ was enough!), reflecting on the gig during a happily swift exit from the Capital and drive home for 1 a.m. A quite superb day out and a triumphant return from Sugar, all agreed, with the opening 3 and final 5 numbers particularly memorable. Either way, one thing is crystal clear… yes Bob, we most definitely ARE still interested!

848 & 849 “COPPER BLUE” VS “UNKNOWN PLEASURES”

Bob Mould, London Shepherd's Bush Empire, Friday 1 June 2012; Peter Hook And The Light, Oxford O2 Academy, Saturday 2 June 2012

A good old fashioned double-header, and what made this one even more notable was that both gigs were start-to-finish interpretations of classic albums from seminal artists in the rock pantheon, by key figures within both bands in question. Sugar’s agenda-setting 1992 release “Copper Blue”, the template for pop-core post-grunge hard-edged yet irresistibly melodic US rock, influencing such notables as Foo Fighters, and delivered by Sugar vocalist and inspiration Bob Mould; then “Unknown Pleasures”, Joy Division’s 1979 debut, a visceral rock experience widely recognised as one of the greatest albums ever, spawning a thousand dark-overcoated and deep-voiced imitators, and played by original Joy Division (and subsequent New Order) bassist Peter Hook and his new band The Light. A mouth-watering double; which album would wear their age most gracefully and come out on top?

First, it’s Bob. Amazingly, this was the first gig in 2012 I’d been to with Rachel; I’d clocked up 13 other gigs since she last accompanied me, to the Vaccines in December 2011. We ruminated on this sorry state of affairs on a swift drive oop the Smoke, after dropping the kids off at grandmas for a sleepover, enduring a slight parking mare but dumping the motor along the Uxbridge Road about ¼ to 8. Hit the venue and got stung for Rach’s pint (£4.30! Ouch!), then found a good spot on the floor, stage left, immediately running into old colleague Shaun Pisavadia and his brother! Caught up before and during openers Cloud Nothings, who initially kicked up a good punky fuss, but then degenerated into tuneless and tedious instrumental thrash, as aimless in its’ way as that horrible Sunburned Hand Of The Man set, supporting Copey at the Lyric those many moons ago! Someone should have told them they’re onstage rather than in their rehearsal space; either that or to write more than 3 songs if they’re performing onstage!

This was my first Bob gig in over 6 ½ years, and nearly 20 years since I’d first been subjected to the incandescent brilliance of Sugar, having seen their UK debut in September 1992, when “Copper Blue” was shiny and new. He and his 3-piece band were clearly in no mood to fuck around, taking the stage promptly at 9 to a rapturous welcome from this packed and predominantly male crowd, and plunging immediately into the thunderous opening riff to “The Act We Act”, an earth-shattering opener. Bob looked mean, muscular and magnificent, bespectacled and with a dusting of white adorning his goatee, resembling a gym-rat Santa on his Summer vacations. Only he’d brought the presents tonight; with nary a pause for breath, he tore into “Copper Blue” with an elemental ferocity, prowling the stage like a manic lion in his cage. I revelled in the glorious cacophony of noise, the perfect storm of rage and melody, a controlled collision of hardcore and irresistible, euphoric tunefulness that this classic album delivered, over and over. “Changes” was a raw, emotional highlight, delivered in Bob’s deliciously dark, deep growl, then a HHH-style water-spout from Bob preceded “If I Can’t Change Your Mind”, brilliantly robust and the best thing on offer tonight, although almost topped by a wide-eyed and rampant “Fortune Teller”, as Bob really warmed to his task.

The climax of “Copper Blue”’s closer, “Man On The Moon” saw a lengthy, reverential ovation, before Bob announced, “that was the past, here’s the future,” introducing, “a bunch of new stuff,” notable amongst being a raw, bluesy “Star Machine” and a raucous, hard rocking “The Dissent”. Them new apples don’t fall far from the Bob Mould tree, but hey, he’s too old to be really diversifying now, right? A clutch of Husker Du numbers closed out the set, fast and hard and unfortunately hindered by the sound, which after a good start had been a bit iffy and indistinctly trebly throughout, a thrashy “Celebrated Summer” finishing things off.

I didn’t quite catch the Robin Zander reference from Bob at the start of first encore, “Needle Hits E”, but wandered down the front for the finale, the brilliant, breathtaking “Makes No Sense At All” (let’s face it, you could be dead and still not resist singing along to that one), before Bob, effusive and clearly having a complete ball all night, stood awhile taking in the applause before leaving. Wow. Poor sound couldn’t detract from the fact he’d given his all, and did this timeless album more than justice tonight.

Follow that, Hooky! After a relaxing day without the kids (still at grandmas) I set off whilst listening to the England footy on the radio, parking up behind Tescos and hitting the downstairs Academy room at 7.45, unfortunately in time to catch some of support, Da London Undaground. They were terrible; a white boy gangsta funk rap act, coming across for me like they’d been rummaging through Stereo MC’s reject pile. The Al Pacino/ Chuck Norris/ Bruce lee slideshow showed their aspirations, and was considerably more entertaining than their performance, although as an old punk, I enjoyed the vocalist’s sentiments on his anti-Jubilee and Olympics t-shirt.

The place, dead early doors, filled up considerably but was still only about 2/3 full when Hooky and his band of young charges took the stage at 8.20, to the refrain of the Pogues’ “Dirty Old Town” mashed, oddly, into Kraftwerk’s “Trans-Europe Express”. I found a place front centre, a couple of rows back, quite easily, as Hooky introduced the opener, the embryonic growl of “At A Later Date” as being, “for a very determined young man, Tony”. Hmmm...

Joy Division, for me, were part of the heady rush of bands I embraced during the rush of my post-punk mid-teen discovery in the early 80’s, along with the likes of early Simple Minds, Psychedelic Furs and my favourites, Echo And The Bunnymen. While I totally enjoyed Joy Division’s dour, primal and bleak vision, and of course took the likes of “Love Will Tear Us Apart” and “Atmosphere” to my heart, I couldn’t help thinking (almost heretical thought coming up here) that had vocalist and original tortured soul Ian Curtis not been lost to us in such an untimely way, would they have been anything more than an interesting footnote in 80’s post-punk, a cult concern in the same vein as The Wild Swans, Scars and Comsat Angels, all bands I’d loved equally to, or more than, Joy Division?

Be that as it may, I was not here to pay homage to the legend, but more to enjoy the musical legacy. And this came thick and fast; “No Love Lost”, staccato post punk, was an early highlight, before the metronomic hook of “Digital”, played fast and edgily by the Light, with Hooky’s vocals by now coming to the fore. Ah yes, Peter Hook, the epitome of taciturn non-communicativeness, took lead vocals, and while initially limited, as if feeling his way into this unfamiliar mode of expression, by this and the subsequent, brilliant “Disorder”, he was deep and resonant, imperiously intoning his lines as if it was his absolute divine right to do so. “Disorder”, featuring the original low-slung descending bassline, heralded the start of the “Unknown Pleasures” run-through, but this was topped a few numbers later by the widescreen drama of “New Dawn Fades”, moody, creepy and prescient. “A loaded gun won’t set you free…”.

This merged into the whip-lash rhythm of “She’s Lost Control” and the punkier growl of “Shadowplay”, before a lengthy, desolate “I Remember Nothing” closed out the set. However we had encores aplenty; the first featured the tumbling, almost tribal drumbeat of “Dead Souls” and the startling synth snap of “Isolation”, before the sombre, symphonic elegy of “Decades” built to a final dramatic crescendo and the band took another breather (necessary by this point – Hooky, who’d put a lot of himself into the performance, was blowing hard by now). This however preceded the inevitable, and fantastic, singalong “Transmission”, and of course the all-time classic “Love Will Tear Us Apart”, dedicated by an effusive Hooky to, “everybody here, God bless us all”. Simply awe-inspiring. A final “Ceremony” drew a redemptive evening to a close, at which point Hooky took a deserved lengthy ovation. Fuck the “legend”; Joy Division were ultimately a great band with many great songs and a few utterly astonishing ones, and those, as per Bob’s performance last night, were done full justice by Peter Hook tonight.

So, overall, which album came out on top? You know, thanks to Bob and Hooky, it’s too close to call…

221 SUGAR, Adorable, Venus Beads, London Kentish Town Town And Country Club, Sunday 27 September 1992

A hugely anticipated gig to see Sugar, the band who've tore up 1992, with this year's best single and album by miles. A good journey up listening to live footy on the radio got us there in time for Venus Beads' rocking but hardly original guitar set. Got the beers in instead!

Popped up onto the balcony for Adorable's set. Vocalist Piotr, again sporting a thin black tie and beige leather box jacket (apparently a homage to the dead one out of 60's cult TV programme "Randall And Hopkirk (Deceased)"), tore into the set with enthusiasm and passion, and pulled off a fine home win. Adorable, despite poor sound, were vital, fresh and exciting, with a swagger and style, and an excellent rendition of best number "Sunshine Smile" which even prompted old cynic Dave Bevan to comment on its' excellence. Top stuff, but even better was to come...

We stayed up on the balcony as Sugar took the stage; vocalist Bob Mould, looking more like the gigantic monolith of Husker Du days than the slimmer figure on his recent "Workbook" tour; Malcolm Travis, a constantly blinking unfocused drummer with forearms like hams; and Dave Barbe, resembling an ex-con with a boxers nose, cropped hair and five o'clock shadow. The three casually ambled onstage unannounced, donned instruments, then literally tore into the set like a pack of tinder wolves.

"The Act We Act", "A Good Idea", "Changes", the triumphant opening triumvirate to their awesome album "Copper Blue", plus 2 newer numbers, blasted by without pause, by which time I was downstairs and in the moshpit, hammering away for all I was worth. The set was raw, passionate, angry, mesmeric, UNBELIEVABLY LOUD, brilliant, brilliant, brilliant! Virtually all of "Copper Blue", at least half a dozen new numbers, mostly delivered by Barbe's rasping voice, each one a nugget of sonic overload rock'n'roll of the highest calibre. 2 encores, culminating in a jaw-dropping "JC Auto", which culminated in Mould bellowing, "I'm no Jesus Christ, I'm not," to a frenzied sell out crowd convinced of his divinity. Then, "thanks," and it was over.

Wow.

229 SUGAR, Magnapop, Cardiff University Great Hall, Thursday 17 December 1992

Had a jolly good run down to Cardiff with a packed carload in less than 1 1/2 hours (new note - it's Junction 29 for Cardiff, sez lorry driver Ady!). I decided to go to this gig despite still being ill from a particularly unfriendly flu bug which had put me in bed for over a week prior to tonight! One suffers for one's rock'n'roll, one really does...

Circumvented the large queue and got in just in time for Magnapop's set, starting dead on 8.30 with "Garden", and subsequently struggling to get their own unique brand of, erm, "magna-pop" to beat the poor sound in this large hall. "Merry" was breathtaking, though, although we wished they'd saved it until last! Also breathtaking was the energy displayed in delivering their performance, especially very pneumatic vocalist Linda. Their perky heavy guitar pop thrills would be excellent in a small venue. we wait in hope...

Sugar, on at 8.30, gave a lesson in transcending the poor sound - simply play louder! Their set was full of the same ferocity, noise assault and thundering power as last time out, the play switching from mainman Bob Mould to his trusted lieutenant Dave Barbe and back without losing any momentum, drive or passion. "If I Can't Change Your Mind", more tuneful and ridiculously hooky than the usual heavier Sugar material, was nevertheless the set highlight for me. A second encore, introduced by Mould (the only occasion he spoke directly to the audience!), was a cover of the Who's "Armenia City", which was messy and overlong, but couldn't spoil another consummate performance by Bob Mould, indisputably the Man Of The Year, and by Sugar, the Band Of The Year!

244 XFM "GREAT X-PECTATIONS", Finsbury Park, Sunday 13 June 1993

"Clive And Drive!" Clive drove a minibus carrying a dynamic dozen of us (most with hangovers, actually, thanks to the usual Saturday night Lev drinkies, so maybe not so dynamic...) to an all day Festival with a rather fine and promising bill, in North London's Finsbury Park. After crossing Ye Olde London Town, we arrived and parked up at 1.30, gaining access to the site and large arena just as openers THE FAMILY CAT were taking the stage. Their oddball surf rock was a good opener, bright and upbeat, but got a little swallowed up by the size of the still-filling arena.

I took a vantage point nearer the front for KINGMAKER, late replacements for Levitation on the bill. They played a bolshy set of fan favourites; good, but a little too "angry young mannish" for the sunny vibe today. Indeed, the sun really poked through as we got food during CATHERINE WHEEL's very poor doomy sludge of a set, a disappointed Clive suggesting it almost bordered on HM... THE SENSELESS THINGS, next up, were a messy mush of punky rumblings in the distance. "Too Much Kissing" was the only number to make my ears prick up and take notice, and even that was poor. Even Rich, a big fan said they were "bollocks".

Things were therefore drifting, so it fell to THE FRANK AND WALTERS to breathe some life into a sagging Festival. And breathe it they did... and then some! Taking the stage in matching straw boaters, orange blazers (which, when discarded, revealed iridescent blue and red striped waistcoats!) and beige slacks with a broad red stripe, they'd clearly prepared for this, and took the crowd by storm with healthy doses of fun, fire and good old rocking tunes. A totally wonderful set of their ramshackle dreampop, delivered with honesty, humour and happiness, with a totally unexpected cover of The Vapors' post-punk classic "Turning Japanese" a highlight.

Damon Albarn of BLUR played one solo song prior to BELLY taking the stage just before 6. Vocalist Tanya and new "rock" guitarist Gail now seeming more like a team, they used their stage time economically, playing a varied set of slow moody numbers and fan favourites like the spiky "Slow Dog", "Gepetto" and my favourite, the soaring "Angel". A fine set; much better than their recent disappointing Portsmouth gig.

I left the posse and wandered down the front, after Guy Chadwick of THE HOUSE OF LOVE had soloed with "Shine On" (which was good) and 2 new numbers (which unfortunately weren't). The scene was set for Bob...

Rambling nonchalantly onstage, SUGAR kitted up amidst a hail of vegetable missiles, until vocalist Bob Mould took the mic with a growled, "anyone who throws things can suck my dick!" Nothing more thereafter was thrown. Respect! As for the set, they charged into "The Act We Act", "A Good Idea" and "Changes", "Copper Blue"s mighty opening salvo, nary pausing for breath. A mixture of moody, titanic new numbers and excerpts from the heavier, harder-edged "Beaster" completed an awesome set of controlled power and passion, during which I was caught up in the moshpit, hammering away for dear life, and eventually emerging dripping with sweat and ears ringing, in the knowledge that I had experienced the best set of the day, not merely seen or heard it.

More food after that, and a new t-shirt, during CARTER USM, whom I have to say were just background noise to the post-Sugar buzzing in my ears, then THE CURE capped a memorable day with a professional set of their angst-fuelled doomy pop, which, apart from the solo encore of oldie "Fire In Cairo", did very little for me. But I'd seen the stars of the show, for me, earlier on!

A nightmare journey back ensued, however, via Euston and Holborn. In at 1.30 in the end, tired but happy!

277 SUGAR, Cardiff University, Friday 14 October 1994

A late trip down, a pea-soup fog and a motor with a dodgy alternator does not make for a confidence-filling journey, but Ady and I still made it to this gig! Arrived at 8.45, in time to completely miss support Puppy Love Bomb (d'oh!), and to just get a pint in and wander into the full and expectant hall before Sugar's ETA.

Sure enough, at the appointed hour of 9 pm, the lights went out and Bob Mould and the boys sauntered onto the stage, looking for all the world like a gang of storemen delivering a sofa, casually plugged in, then ripped venomously into "The Gift". I plunged into the increasing melee for 3rd number in, the strident chiming growl of "Changes", and gave it loads in the frantic moshpit, as Bob and the boys kicked up an awesome primal rock noise onstage. Sweat drenched, Bob (now chunked up, looking more like the legendary towering monolith of the Husker Du days) passionately exploded through this set, which was mainly drawn from the (say it quietly) slightly disappointing new LP, "File Under Easy Listening", and a clutch of growling newies. As ever, they made best sense when experienced with the hordes of frenzied dancers in the moshpit, so I'm glad I was one of them!

After almost 1 1/2 hours of loud, dynamic rock, I was drenched and my ears were buzzing, but I totally enjoyed tonight's set. A little leaden in parts (especially the first encore dirge), but I'll forgive him that, as the pure popcore rush of the likes of "Gee Angel" (easily "FUEL"s best track) and "If I Can't Change Your Mind" more than made up for that.

Oh yeh, and the drive home - again through pea-soup fog - was a lot quicker, at 1 1/4 hours!