"We are the great Loser's band," declares Chrissie Hynde, by way of an introduction to the over-wrought power ballad "The Losing." "We represent you."
She's wrong, of course. Chrissie Hynde was always one of life's natural survivors, and despite the misfire that is "The Losing" and a slightly flatulent middle section where the band's apparent current penchant for iffy, UB40-style reggae is briefly wheeled out, "Loose In L.A" is predominantly a dynamite, 2 Hour-plus concert DVD filmed at Los Angeles' cavernous Wiltern Theatre in February 2003 and shows that Hynde and co remain as relevant and exciting a proposition a staggering quarter of a century since they took the first steps on a fateful journey to world domination. At a price.
OK, I admit I'm slightly biased here, as - no matter how much I love Patti Smith, Debbie Harry etc - Chrissie's always been my girl. Those songs, that voice, that sound, those sassy lyrical put-downs: thay've never truly been equalled for me. Besides, there's precious few people out there who can survive the death of two key band members and can stick around with dignity intact to create a lasting back catalogue for the band's current incarnation to cherry pick from as fervently as the 21st Century version of the band do here.
Sure, Chrissie's slipped on a few banana skins over the years, and even I have difficulty in protecting her when we come to marriage with Jim Kerr and the MacDonald's protests, but she's always meant it, maan, and on this form you'd be stupid to write her off as anything less than vital even now her days of chart supremacy seem largely over.
"Loose In L.A" is, for the most part, a blistering set and a confident mix of old and new. Indeed, it's a testament to the power of a number of the new songs such as the anti-Dubya invective in the stinging "Lie To Me" and the potently cynical "Fools Must Die" (even more resonant bearing in mind this was filmed as US troops were about to enter Iraq) and the slinky funk of "Time" that they hit as effectively below that belt as most of the enduring southpaws from the band's immense back catalogue.
The filming itself is pin-sharp, accurate and with precious few frills other than excellent use of panning and close-ups. The band themselves exude similar, classic, drop-dead cool. Chrissie herself is resplendent in simple black T-shirt and jeans and consistently looks two decades younger than she should, while the lads sensibly keep it toned down. Keyboard player Zeben Jameson is ultra-professional, bassist Andy Hobson just stands there and plunks away (though he plays some amazing stuff), while lead guitarist Adam Seymour goes for the bedenimed, goatee'd look and stays cool behind perma shades. He's got that all-important melange of power and taste that epitomised original Pretenders guitarist James Honeyman-Scott, though, and can zoom from subtle stuff like his wah-wah colouring on "Time" through to the full-blown Hendrix pyrotechnics that blaze through the staggering "My City Was Gone."
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The only band member who dares to upstage Chrissie is inevitably the muscular old bulldog, Martin Chambers behind the kit. Another man whose experience is long down the years, his solid presence, incredible dexterity behind the kit and water-spewing tricks are all massively entertaining and his displays on songs like "Middle Of The Road" and a genius "Message Of Love" really are something to behold. Oh, and he's still crap at catching drumsticks, but we all have an Achilles heel, don't we?
Besides, leaving that mid-set wobble, this is incendiary stuff. Naturally, we get most of the hits - there's no "Stop Your Sobbing" or "Day After Day", but a deliciously yearning "Kid", crunching "Middle Of The Road", regret-fuelled "Talk Of The Town" and, of course, "Brass In Pocket" make such trifling quibbles redundant. And there's plenty more besides: "Up The Neck", "Precious" and "Tattooed Love Boys" are all 25 years old, but sound viciously box fresh, and even cultier items like "Rebel Rock Me" and "Time The Avenger" reel with star quality.
The DVD'S extras can't really compete with the onstage fireworks. There's a promo video for recent single "You Know Who Your Friends Are" and a 'concert montage', both of which are OK, but mostly culled from similar concert and outside venue footage (Chrissie signing autographs, fans' tattooed arms etc) and are hardly revelatory. Most disappointingly, the backstage footage is pretty mundane as well. Sure, Chrissie reveals herself to be the fine raconteur we always imagined and Chambers initially sounds interesting with his inside info on his onstage water-blowing antics, but there's only a few perfunctory interview segments and little about what really makes the present day band tick. And even less about the original band's heyday, which is a bit of a missed opportunity is this writer's book.
Nonetheless, this is primarily bonus material after all, and "Loose In L.A" really is - for once - a full-length concert film worth shelling out those hard-earned ackers for. It's sharply-filmed, possesses superb sound quality and allows The Pretenders to give a brilliant account of their continued relevance post-Millennium without any of the crap editing or annoying cutting of songs that have so often plagued such releases in the past. Loser's band, then? Bollocks. The Pretenders have always been champions and here their names remain gloriously etched on the cup.
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