Review: Sleaford Mods at Astor Theatre

Sleaford Mods at Astor Theatre
w/ Last Quokka
Sunday, June 11, 2023 

It was just over three years ago when Nottingham’s finest, Sleaford Mods, visited Perth for the first time. Friday, March 14, 2020 to be specific – which you may recall was an interesting point in history. News of a pandemic hitting Australian shores had suddenly become a reality. We didn’t quite know it yet, but a certain virus was about to change life as we knew it – we were about to learn that corona was more than a crap beer. They had just announced the first lockdown restrictions and banning of concerts, starting from Monday. It was the last weekend of gigs, and Perth was about to become that town from Footloose, where no public dancing was allowed.   

No one knew what the future was going to hold, but there was a sense in the room that night that it might be the last big gig we'd attend in a while. And indeed it would be – certainly from an international band anyway – for a good couple of years. It was a mad night with a sense of reckless abandon in the air – we kinda felt like we shouldn’t even be out at a sold out, packed gig at The Rosemount, because there was this thing called ‘social distancing.’ But the crowd had been hanging to see the Mods for years, and the boys delivered, with an explosive performance that blew up the room into a sweaty, writhing, jumping, beer-soaked, happy mess. 

Fast forward a few years and here we were with the Mods back in town, with a couple of new albums under their belt since their last visit – this time playing the larger, more palatial and spacious Astor. There was a lot of excitement in the air again. People are still appreciating actually getting to go out to gigs again, and it was another great performance from the boys, though it didn’t quite have that hectic, packed out, intense energy of a small room. This was more of a stage production, and with a wealth of material to choose from their setlist is really solid now – though obviously they focused heavily on the new album UK Grim and 2021’s Spare Ribs.  

Perth punks Last Quokka were in support on the night, and it may have been the best booking of their career. There may have been Sleaford Mods fans in attendance who didn’t know our local punk-rock legends, but they all would have left being new fans. 

The quokkas tore through a ripper set, filling the theatre with their fast and furious sound. Frontman Trent Rojahn has a great presence and powerful voice, despite maybe not being the most melodic, as he stalks the stage, beer grasped in hand, belting out his grievances. 

They’ve established quite a repertoire of punk anthems – Disconnected, the awesome Gina / Rupert whose lyrics simply comprise of Rojhan screaming “Gina!” and “Rupert!”, repeating them in certain ways along with the music. He didn’t need to use any other words to let us know how he feels. There was a song they wrote about a visit to the regional Mid West town, Cue, evoking imagery of country Australia in all its glory.  

There’s a song about Macaulay Culkin and the sad movie he was in, My Girl. And a song about a piggy. “I went for a walk and I saw a piggy and I wrote a song about it.” There were shouty repeated mantras over scorching guitar work. “Fuck Woodside!”, “Toughen up and get a job!” and Eat The Rich! culminates with him screaming “What school did u go to?!” They finished with their epic environmental ode Colony, which has a post-punk Joy Division vibe with a driving bass line. It's a bloody huge Aussie anthem which topped off a fittingly ferocious support set.  

The crowd really started to pack in up the front as we prepared ourselves for the main event, Sleaford Mods. Not ones to mess about, the two lads came out, looking like a couple poms on holiday in T-shirts and shorts, and launched straight into the heavy marching bass of UK Grim, the title track of the new record – a blazing statement on the current state of the country (with a great cut n paste animated video). “This is, UK grim, put it in the bin!” The classic McFlurry from 2013’s Austerity Dogs was a welcome early addition too, featuring talk of “Boris Johnson and the cheeky girls.”  

The duo were having fun on the big stage. Jason Williamson always gives 100% on stage, committing fully to every song. He doesn’t stop, barking out his mad rants, full of clever observations and witty word play. You wouldn’t really call him a singer or an MC – he’s a vocalist with a penchant for shouting in his thick East Midlands accent, a spoken word poet, a raving town crier on the corner with a distinctly angry, anti-establishment tone, that is focused mostly on the Tory clowns ‘running’ the UK at the moment. He pushes himself to straining point, bending over to shout his words into his spit soaked microphone, seemingly going into a trance, as he gyrates and jitters across the stage, strutting around with his mic stand, a ball of kinetic energy and nervous ticks and strange little dance moves. 

On the other side of stage, dancing around behind his laptop, was producer Andrew Fearn. It appears he’s been growing his beard for the last couple years, and also working on his dance moves. Well known for his stage antics, or lack of them, with his refusal to pretend to be tweaking knobs behind equipment, Fearn stands behind his laptop and presses play for each track – a piss-take of the stereotype fake DJ, despite the fact that he makes all the music for the group. In the early days he would mostly just stand there bopping a bit while nursing a beer, letting Wiliamson take the spotlight with his more dynamic and manic performance – but Fearn has now levelled up to a fully-fledged dancer and hype man, in the tradition of Bez from the Happy Mondays. 

On the big Astor stage, he owned his half, bouncing around to the beat, in his cap and shorts, limbs flailing. You wouldn’t say he has the most smooth moves, but his energy was infectious, and he barely stopped through the whole set. Increasing intensity on certain tracks when required, his dancing was kinda like a combination of raving, aerobics and boot scootin’. He’s highly entertaining to watch as he grooved, without a hint of self-consciousness, to his own tunes, which have evolved since he joined the group around 10 years ago. While their earlier material was more raw and minimal post-punk beats and bass, his production has taken in more electronic elements and different textures – though still retaining their distinct sound.  

Another highlight from the new album was their collaboration with Florence Shaw of like-minded English post-punks Dry Cleaning, called Force 10 From Navarone. It’s a banger of a tune with booming bass, and Shaw’s deep monotone voice is a perfect complement to Williamson’s gruff delivery. While the sound levels were okay, his vocals were a little buried in the mix at times and really need more volume. The lyrics and delivery are such an integral part of their songs and really need to be loud and clear.   

The hectic punky pace of Tilldipper certainly woke people up. The flashing, colourful lights of The Astor stage provided some visual accompaniment, but it’s a shame we didn’t get the full lighting production of the shows they did over east, as some of the images that have come out look amazing. 

If there was a sign of how big and well respected Sleaford Mods have now become in the music industry, it’s the calibre of collaborators. Later on they’d break out Nudge It, the track they did with Amy from Amyl and the Sniffers, and on the new album they even managed to get Perry Farrell to sing on So Trendy, which sounded great live. 

DIwhy is another great, hilarious track on the new album, taking aim at the ridiculousness of hipsters. An old fav T.C.R. really got the crowd, and Fearn, moving, with its driving rhythm, before they worked in some harder sounds, working up towards the finale. “This ain't no disco nap!” Williamson bellowed, as they dropped the banging tribal drum beat for Tory Kong.  

Finishing very strongly with a trifecta of older hits, they gave us Tied Up in Notzz, the brilliant Jobseeker that builds and builds into a lurching electro beast, before Williamson drew it to a sharp close by blowing a raspberry. They finished off the set with the awesome Tweet Tweet Tweet from 2014’s Divide and Exit. As per their general style, they finished the set with no fuss, bid us farewell, leaving the stage with no encore, Fearn packing up his laptop and walking off.  

Sleaford Mods have been around for a while now, strutting their stuff and purveying their unique take on the world. With their limited range, you might think they’d have trouble maintaining the fire. But they remain distinctive, brutal, abrasive, uncompromising and brilliant, and don’t look to be running out of steam any time soon. Bless ‘em, because they seem more relevant and necessary than ever. God Save The Mods. Come on! 

ALFRED GORMAN 

Photos by Adrian Thomson