Although much of the stuff they put on these days is overpriced tosh, it's always a pleasure to spend an evening in Cork's grand old Savoy when there's good reason. A real piece of Victorian era history, this ballroom has hosted soirees by the likes of the Brian Jones-era Stones and an early Irish date by the fledgling New Order among many over the years. It also has a backstage area best described as 'labyrinthine': a fact your reviewer found out the hard way having been on the receiving end of a couple of 'Spinal Tap' moments trying to locate potential interviewees deep in the bowels of the place in the past.
Thankfully, tonight is purely a front-of-house affair, hosting what appears to be the last date of the UK/Irish push Derry heroes THE UNDERTONES have pencilled in to promote their recent album 'Dig Yourself Deep'. The Cork date was originally scheduled for regular indie venue Cyprus Avenue, but later switched to the larger Savoy: a move which initially looks a little fanciful as the crowd are a little thin on the ground shortly before the band come onstage. A pity, as early arrivals such as W&H have been treated to an impeccable intro tape over the PA (Marvin Gaye, The Electric Prunes, Joy Division, Roxy Music, Bo Diddley, The Stooges, The Stones and countless more segueing seamlessly into each other) rather than the usual interminable round of support act hopefuls.
It's filled up rather more by the time The Undertones troop onstage looking a little shellshocked at around 9.30, though even the familiar opening salvo of 'Jimmy Jimmy', 'Jump Boys' and a joyous 'I Gotta Getta' struggle to pull more than a couple of dozen down the front. And even then they seem content to hang back a while, prompting frontman Paul McLoone to say "we don't bite y'know, you can come closer if you like."
Indeed, the setting's rather different to the celebratory atmosphere which pervaded the last time your reviewer saw the re-animated Derry band at the Bandon Music Festival during the summer of 2005. That was an all-ages affair and just about perfect for The Undertones songs about chocolates and girls. It also provided a much larger stage for McLoone (a natural showman if ever there was, regardless of the largely redundant Sharkey comparisons) to work, which he did admirably. This time, he's hemmed in between bassist Mickey Bradley and lead guitarist Damien O'Neill and mostly has to restrict his movements to pulling faces, staring down the front row and indulging in the occasional wiggle of his ass. Add this to muddy sound early on and the crowd's surprising initial reticence and it begins to look like The Undertones might have a little bit of a battle on their hands.
There again, when you've a crowd-pleasing back catalogue of the highest order, you can afford the odd wobble and indeed things start to perk up very quickly indeed when the sound clears up and the O'Neill brothers start tearing into the chunky riffs of tunes like 'Girls That Don't Talk', 'There Goes Norman' and the nagging 'You've Got My Number': within minutes both creating a moshpit and then proceeding to send it stark staring radio rental.
It's a testament to the band's enduring relevance that the songs from the new album are capable of rubbing shoulders with the tried and tested classics, too. They play a clutch from it tonight, with a crunching version of the title track, the hi-octane Glitter Band-style stomp of 'I'm Recommending Me' and the subtle shimmer of 'Tomorrow's Tears' especially all fitting like the proverbial glove. The latter is especially impressive, not least when it follows on directly from the long-established winsome brilliance of another John O'Neill classic in 'Wednesday Week'.
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Actually, the only thing about the 'human jukebox' aspect of The Undertones still-thrilling live show is that the irresistible punky immediacy of the much-lauded singles has a tendency to overshadow their hugely appealing gentler side. Yes, the shimmeringly lovely 'Julie Ocean' still surfaces, but it's joined by only a tautly impressive 'When Saturday Comes' from 'Positive Touch' and the much-under-rated 'Sin Of Pride' album is ignored completely. A shame when you consider there are tunes like 'Luxury' and 'Untouchable' that could stll work well in the context of the band's current incarnation.
But this is a minor gripe when confronted by one of the finest home straits in rock history, featuring box-fresh versions of 'Teenage Kicks', 'True Confessions', 'I Know A Girl', 'Get Over You' and the inevitable 'My Perfect Cousin'. All are played with the youthful intensity of a band who seem incapable of capitulating to the effects of gnawing middle age and still make ghastly music business look innocent and nonchalent beyond belief.
Rightly, they're confident enough to kick off the first encore with another new one in the nicely bitchy 'We All Talked About You', but of course they have further mini-epics in reserve thanks to the likes of 'Male Model' and the under-rated 'Billy's Third': a rare songwriting credit for the band's unsung hero, drummer Billy Doherty. Your reviewer would normally be scornful of a band repeating songs, but after the generous 28 songs they've already breathlessly knocked out, it seems churlish to complain about the second encore, especially when the songs in question are 'Jimmy Jimmy' and 'Teenage Kicks' and - even without Sharkey - are played like they were only recorded the week before.
Against the odds, then, The Undertones have silenced many of their critics these past few years. Seemingly happy to proceed at their own quiet, part-time pace these days, they are still creatively active and relevant on record and utterly tremendous live. Post-Sharkey and even post-Peel they remain a force to be reckoned with and still more than deserving of a place in your heart.
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