22-20s: Academy 2, Manchester 21 Jan 2005

“Momma went and left me crying in a corner wiping my big ole’ durdy boots”, (or words to that effect) wails the Aled Jones bad boy look-a-like of blues/rock outfit 22-20s to the somewhat eclectic audience rammed into the Academy 2 in Manchester. “No, you’re wrong mate”, I desperately want to shout. “She’s right here at the back dancing to your tunes because no-one else is”.

I really don’t want to slate these four obviously very talented musicians. Their set is achingly tight it has to be said. They’re also adept at playing their instruments with attitude, but what they’re strumming isn’t really on a par with the complex riffs and thrashes of Jimi Hendrix or any of the other great guitarists, so you can’t really give them too much credit for being able to play what any band worthy of being on stage should be completely au fait with.

These guys are fundamentally a blues outfit, or more to the point, a blues on speed outfit. They power through their opening couple of numbers at 100 mph and though at first they appear impressive, later on it’s a struggle to stay interested, particularly when the tempo is brought down a notch. The sea of faces in the audience don’t look too impressed either.

There is a kind of faint whimpering and mouthing of lyrics from the crowd though, so I figure this lot must be fans of some sort. And they appear to have very loyal followers, namely their parents, who are clearly visible at the back in the darkest of corners. There’s one guy, mid 50s in black, with a white guitar motif on his t-shirt standing in front of a woman resembling Agnetha of Abba fame dancing as if she is really part of the Swedish super group.

The lead singer Martin Trimble has a good set of lungs on him and belts out tunes reminiscent of The Stones, The Doors, Bob Dylan and even The Kinks – entertaining stuff at times. The bass guitarist is also a joy to behold. If you only go to watch this guy in action it would be worth your pennies.

Like a peacock, he ruffles then preens his way through the set, involved in a kind of psychedelic Groundhog Day. Strutting with the attitude of Mick Jagger, he adds a real spark to this Lincoln four-piece but for me, it just ain’t enough.

words: Rachel Bristowe

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