Gig review: The Hoosiers at Brudenell Social Club, Leeds
Nearly two decades on from their debut record, the Indianapolis-formed duo still have a wryly arch line in popcraft as they deliver a stripped-down Crash Records outstore turn.
“Thank you so much for coming down, Leeds!” The Hoosiers singer Irwin Sparkes cries at the top of their outstore performance at the city’s famed Brudenell Social Club. Silver-fox hair cropped close around the temples, with a toothy grin split between his cheeks, the Reading-born frontman appears fascinatingly more at ease with himself than ever before. “Who wants a huge slap of compassion?”
This last date on a whirlwind run of stripped-back shows across the nation’s vinyl emporiums is facilitated by the venerated Crash Records, at one of the Indianapolis-formed outfit’s favourite live haunts.
Certainly, in the intervening years since their brief flush of chart-topping fame drew them the ire of the NME and other self-professed tastemakers, both Sparkes and drummer Alan Sharland have rebuilt themselves as hard-gigging indie favourites accustomed to these intimate surroundings.
Nearly two decades on from debut The Trick to Life, it feels such critical churlishness may have worked in their favour. Here touting sixth record Compassion, The Hoosiers still possess a wryly arch line in popcraft, something quite nakedly emphasised by the pared-down arrangements on show.
Sleeping with the Light On comes underpinned with shimmery synth-lines, while Jigsaw Heart arrives filled with a jaunty music-hall cheer to its melodies; elsewhere, a curiously faithful cover of Chappell Roan’s Pink Pony Club rubbernecks its way in with oddly appropriate aplomb.
A well-documented penchant for stand-up banter – the duo previously crafted a comedy run at the Edinburgh Fringe – sees an “intermission” skit where Sparkes croons Don’t Hang Your Head as Sharland takes their order from the nearby bar.
But ultimately, they can’t let their audience go home without their biggest hits in tow, revamping Worried About Ray as a slinky desert-rock stomper and Goodbye Mr. A as a rousing falsetto karaoke session. “Sing along if you know it!” Sparkes shouts. Plenty remain word-perfect after all this time.