Rival Sons Live at Cambridge Junction

The comparisons between the very first live show I saw and the most recent are startling.

In 2011, I was introduced to Led Zeppelin's The Song Remains The Same film, shot at Madison Square Garden in the summer of 1973. The inhabitants of the Mothership were at their peak, jet-setting across the globe, considered Gods among men. That live performance was everything rock music should be; controlled but completely unleashed and primal in the same token. The cohesion of Page, Plant, JPJ and Bonham was mesmerising, magical and magnificent, holding 20,000 in awed spectators in the palm of their hand and feeding off the electricity that filled the air that night in New York. At Cambridge Junction, some 44 years later, in front of some 19,250 fewer people, Rival Sons had the same effect. 

Credit: Jane Dawson

Rival Sons - who many have coined the new Led Zeppelin - have evolved immeasurably since their Earache label debut album, Pressure and Time, in 2011. Head Down (2012) and Great Western Valkyrie (2014) were great albums in their own right, but are mere thumbnails in time compared to the soulful sensation of Hollow Bones (2016): their Led Zeppelin IV to continue the analogy.

Credit: Jane Dawson

The Long Beach, California, quartet (quintet when you include keyboardist and beard enthusiast Todd Ogren-Brooks) opened with the first three tracks from Hollow Bones; Hollow Bones Pt.1, Tied Up and Thundering Voices.

Great Western Valkyrie got a generous showing throughout the night too, getting as many track plays as Hollow Bones; the raucous Electric Man, the infectiously groovy Secret - one of my absolute favourite Rival Sons songs - Belle Star, the beautiful Where I've Been - in memory of a dearly departed friend - and Open My Eyes, which borrows its drum intro heavily from Zep's When the Levee Breaks: that's no bad thing, mind.

Two thirds through the set, we heard three tracks that Rival Sons recorded right at the beginning of their careers; Tell Me Something, Face Of Light and Torture. For songs written before any of their big hits, I was bowled over by the greatness of these tracks. Tell Me Something and Torture are what you would normally expect from Rival Sons, whereas Face Of Light is reminiscent of Zep's The Rain Song, albeit almost half the length.

Heading into the final stretch, Rival Sons played the penultimate track from Hollow Bones, Hollow Bones Pt. 2 - a frenzied seven minute number that's so chaotic it's incredible the band members keep it together. It's hard rocking, but also quiet and reserved in spots before erupting again, with Jay screaming various religious affirmations at the top of his lungs.

Finally, the Sons played their first single from Head Down; Keep On Swinging. This was also the first song I'd heard of theirs after being recommended to listen to them. It's easy sing-along chorus was a great way to end the show.

What comes across so marvelously in a live environment is their ability to be in the "pocket". To get to a place within the music where they're so comfortable that they could be at the O2 Arena or practicing at home, it still oozes the same gut wrenching passion and soul that sucks you in and leaves you yearning for more. 

Credit: Jane Dawson

The comparisons between the individual members of Rival Sons and Led Zeppelin are interesting to explore too. You almost don't notice Rival Sons' bassist, Dave Beste, in the best possible way. He's unassuming but incredibly crucial, piping up occasionally for backing vocal duties. Michael Miley on drums looks and plays more similarly to John Bonham than he'd probably be comfortable admitting - even ripping through a long Moby Dick style solo a la The Song Remains The Same while his band mates enjoy a rest. The comparison with Scott Holiday and Jimmy Page isn't in playing style especially, but in the way they experiment with sounds. For Page it was a theremin and using a celo bow over his guitar strings, for Holiday it's the plethora of pedals that bestow him the nickname 'Fuzz Lord'. Lastly, but by no means least, Jay Buchanan is the first front man in decades to revitalise the character of the 1970s. Not in the way he thrusts his 'pocket rocket' like Robert Plant, but the way he leaves you hanging on every word, howling and shrieking as if his body has been possessed by the spirit of the music: it's utterly, irresistibly, sensational.

Jay said at the end of the gig, rather beautifully I think: "We've been opening for Black Sabbath for 18 months, and that's so cool, but nothing beats this! It's so much more intimate and we love it."