There was a touch of the morning after about The Panics’ second night of two at Hindley Street’s Jive Bar. The curtain raisers, Former Child Stars, played willingly if a little tiredly, while the night’s middle man Whitley wore what appeared to be a pair of pyjama pants, and explained, somewhat apologetically, that he was “so hung over from last night”.
Fortunately, there was precious little energy or poise absent from the Panics themselves, who enchanted all in attendance with a set that explained ever so gloriously why they had recently taken a direction that a few indie hard heads have derided as “commercial”, as though the band’s desire to broaden their support base was a mortal sin. They are now three albums and a few EPs into a recording career that received a handy leg-up in 2000 when Jae Laffer, Drew and Myles Wootton, Paul Otway and Julian Douglas were spotted and liked by none other than Madchester touchstones the Happy Mondays during their visit to Australia for a string of none too memorable appearances at the Big Day Out.
Seven years later, the Panics have become a band loved by critics and a sturdy supporter base, yet still searching for the sort of major success that must not be out of reach for a quintet so adept at crafting princely pop in a beguiling range of styles. “Best kept secret” is the sort of cliché rightly bandied about by fans of the group, but it has become clear that the band members themselves are a little tired of it. As Laffer says of Cruel Guards on the group’s website: “We didn’t want to just give Panics fans something they are used to. I’d rather people were surprised and hopefully see that there aren’t any other guitar groups in this country making records like this.”
Sales themselves are yet to catch-up fully with the heightened publicity, but on the joyful evidence of Jive that should not be too long in coming. As with other shows on the tour, Cruel Guards was played in close to its entirety; from the spaghetti western styling of Get Us Home to the marvellous marriage of Primal Scream/Motown/James/hip-hop that is Don’t Fight It. A moment of real warmth arrived during Feeling Is Gone, which prompted a middle-aged couple to jig together at the front of the floor. Watching it as he crooned was lead singer Laffer, who has battled performance anxiety in the past. He was at his breathy, poetic best here, providing the vocal glue that holds together a collection of consummate musicians whose influences stretch seamlessly from the Stone Roses to Johnny Cash, with plenty in between.
It was Cash, a blistering slice of countrified rock named after the Man in Black, that shone brightest among the smattering of older songs played. In doing so it provided a useful reminder that the more aggressive marketing of Cruel Guards should open up the band’s entire discography to a second life – in front of a far bigger audience.
