The Hives live review: I could settle in this palm
There seems to be a consensus amongst small-minded people that rock and roll is the one true form of music. Calls of, “You weren’t there, you don’t understand,” go up in the face of modern music. People will stand by a band that only uses guitars, bass and drums and hold them up as the last bastion of the live show, emphasising that these are proper musicians, pining for a time they didn’t live through when Rolling Stones, The Beatles and Led Zeppelin filled stadiums.
The truth is, what made those bands great wasn’t just the instruments they played; it was how they played them, the innovative way they approached songwriting and the captivating way they performed. Just because a band only uses the instruments associated with rock music doesn’t mean they represent the rock band of old. The Hives are an exception, as how they perform, engage with a crowd and have mastery over their instruments, well, you weren’t there, you don’t understand.
It’s a windy night in the steel city. The wind is particularly important to note, as the band wouldn’t be here without it. As Storm Kathleen cancelled travel to Ireland, hungry for a gig, The Hives reached out to the Leadmill to see if they could do a last-minute slot. Even though tickets only went on sale 24 hours before the show, they still sold out in a matter of minutes, and from the moment the first chord of ‘Bogus Operandi’ is played, it’s easy to see why.
What might be the best opening song in the world is hard to turn away from. Staff in Leadmill wince as they think of the apologies they will have to make to neighbours as the walls shake and a roar goes up. A chord hit, a guitar riff, all completely overshadowed by the screams that follow them as people strap in for the next hour and start dancing.
Howlin Pelle Almqvist is the kind of frontman that punters can only dream of. The audience flocked to his palm the moment he stepped onto the stage and then were reluctant to move from there, no matter how long the set went on. You rarely see someone who knows the stage, the music, and the crowd as well as he does, but every word that comes out of his mouth is perfectly crafted for the night.
Sometimes, it feels like there is a joke somewhere you’re not in on, as the call and response is so well orchestrated it seems impossible that it hasn’t been planned beforehand. One, two, three steps left, mic to mouth, “Shit, damn, overslept, I go to work,” he says before retracing the steps he just took, holding the mic out to the crowd, “Like I say, like I say, like I say, like I say,” they reply.
The Hives don’t have much variation in their sound; they have upbeat rock tunes with catchy choruses, are easy to dance to, and allow you to let loose, but are fairly consistent. That being said, no one cares about that on the night; the feeling achieved in the room as people sing along and throw their arms in the air is addictive, and worries about a lack of variation are replaced by concerns over the gig ending.
“Don’t you all think I look good in my suit?” Almqvist says as he stands on one of the speakers at the corner of the stage, “Take your phones out and get a good picture of me.” With that, a sea of screens fills the room as shots are snapped, saved and set as screensavers. “Did you all get a good picture?” He asks. “Good, shove the phone up your ass and dance.”
The gig is very much one that relies on the moment; the atmosphere is so thick it’s almost like you could hold onto it, and Almqvist’s palm is getting more and more comfortable by the minute. By the time the band leave the stage for the encore, it feels as if no time has passed at all, while also feeling like you haven’t known anything else.
Things get wrapped up with the hit ‘Tick, Tick, Boom’, which is infused with praise for each of the band members who have been playing all night. Almqvist goes into the crowd for this bit, the call and response still there as he sings, “Now you come crying to me,” and the audience replies, “But it’s too late!” He runs back onto the stage, and the crowd closes around his path; one last dance before the band needs to leave, every second savoured as the impromptu gig is brought to a close.
When people reminisce about rock’s prime, they focus so much on the genre that they forget everything else that made it great. The crowd, the stage presence and the moment all contributed to the movement just as much as the music did, and The Hives embodied the feeling that a lot of people probably had when leaving the early rock shows. They remain one of the most untouchable live bands on the planet, and every song they perform is a treat.
