Peace, The Sugarmill, Stoke

Whatever your thoughts on the emergence of the much discussed Birmingham guitar band scene, the facts remain; it’s Peace who’ll carry the burden of being the scene’s flagship band, and only with a truly engaging live show can they fully win the hearts of the record buying public. Seemingly with this in mind, Peace embark on a twelve date tour of the minor cities circuit with London band Wolf Alice in tow, starting on a cold and dreary night at Stoke’s Sugarmill venue.

Opening up the show, Leek based band Delemere plough through a set of wall-of-sound indie with moments of promise. Their finest of which comes when Wu Lyf-esque guitar riffs pierce through the wall with ethereal tone to provide some interesting texture. They come across as a band who operate a little too often within their comfort zone, but the set warms us all up nicely as the crowd begins to grow.

There’s not much music out there from Wolf Alice – only one single and a handful of demos can be found from the most thorough of searches online. Prior to their set, I find myself describing their sound to my companion as folktronica (‘Destroy Me’ and ‘Wednesday’). Moments later I’m blushing, as the band launch into an explosive set of 90’s indebted noise pop. Polyphonic guitar sounds create that escapist feel which is becoming the trade mark of the emerging guitar scene, as Ellie Rowsell delivers sweet harmonic vocals over the top. Recent single ‘Leaving You’ is the only departure from a high octane sound that sits somewhere between Gross Magic and Elastica.

If you’ve ever been to Birmingham, you’ll probably understand why escapism features so highly as an influence upon its bands. Architecturally, its city centre varies between the mundane and the ridiculous. For our second largest city, its cultural identity is perhaps lacking; does it compare to that of say Manchester, Liverpool or Brighton? Perhaps Birmingham is just a more down-to-earth city. But I guess more so now than ever – after several years of recession - we’re all feeling a little more down-to-earth and in need of a little escape.

Peace certainly look down to earth in their hand-me-down jumpers and charity shop leathers, as the major label band go about their own pre-gig stage set up without a guitar tech in sight. This causes something of a false dawn for their set, such is the rarity of this kind of anti ‘rock star’ behaviour. The crowd seem to more relax than build in anticipation at the sight of this, as Harrison skips off upstairs for whatever kind of pre-gig ritual, loudly and soulfully singing Eva Cassidy’s ‘True Colours’ to the room.

When it finally does become time to begin, Peace are relentless. There’s rarely a moment without song, feedback or noise throughout the whole 35 minute set. ‘Follow Baby’ sounds grander as they take it off on a psychedelic tangent – live it’s like the audio equivalent of watching your favourite action film remade in 3D. Harrison apologetically yet honestly tells us “this one’s a bit cute” whilst introducing ‘California Daze’, but as soon as it’s done, he’s back proclaiming “we’ve all shared a moment” and we all agree. He goes on to tell us that guitarist Doug and he also shared a moment during the song, and that he “thinks they might be together now”.

There’s something Tim Burgess-like about the Peace singer. Back in the Britpop days, The Charlatans front man was never ‘the big star’, as a more casual and meek performer - but the bravado of Ashcroft, Gallagher times two or a mid-twenties Damon Albarn wouldn’t cut it in these times. The similarities don’t stop there. Harrison and Burgess also seem to be having some kind of unspoken competition to see who can have the shitest haircut in rock music – a competition from which there will be no winners.

The reworked ‘1998’ gets the biggest cheer of the night as Peace unselfconsciously rave-out to a track that frankly, has no right to work. It’s not cool to remake cheesy euro-trance classics, but their objective to transport you somewhere nostalgic is emphatically achieved. And without the pantomime of an expectant encore, Peace finish with the tropical bliss of ‘Bloodshake’, and with a crowd highly appreciative of the 35 minute holiday they’ve just been on.