Beady Eye
Somerset House, London
12/07/2011

Somerset House is the scene of tonight’s show, where the nation’s best fringes have showered themselves in Lynx Africa and pulled on their box-fresh Pretty Green t-shirts for Liam Gallagher’s offering in the shadows of the Inland Revenue. A heady mix of Gallagher lookalikes and pinstripe suits might not be the typical sight to greet the former Oasis frontman when he swaggers onstage, but perhaps it’s a sign of changing times for the Beady Eye singer.
 
The Fly’s wardrobe is severely lacking in 60s clobber and, suffice to say, we’re not exactly blending into the crowd. But Somerset House is a glorious enough setting to subdue any parka-envy, and there’s a guestlist of A-list musos here that suggests the bushy-browed prince of Manchester hasn’t lost any of his appeal since cutting ties with his brother. First up is Miles Kane, whose Arctic Monkeys pastiche has proven to be a highly lucrative career choice and, as the band energetically throw their collective might behind a watertight set-list, there’s a steady flow of intrigued punters who drag themselves away from the bar for a closer look. Kane’s undoubtable charisma is certainly evident as he riffs between songs with a willing group of front-row recipients, but there’s painfully little to excite The Fly’s ears. “How you doing Somerset House?” he offers between songs, to a stifled murmur. “Come on, that was medium at best!” Miles Kane: Frontman and self-review writer.

But it’s Beady Eye the assembled throng are here for, and Gallagher is met with a roar befitting a homecoming champion. There’s an assured confidence about a band more used to playing stadiums than the intimate setting of tonight’s show, but as the set launches into the scuzzy riffs of ‘Four Letter Word’, it’s clear this is a group with far more bite than Oasis ever had. Bite, yes. But songs, no. Gallagher is, as ever, a scowling caricature of himself, squatting at the mic and swaggering across the stage wielding his pristine white scarf. But for all the frontman’s obvious magnetism – he has the crowd eating out of his hand without the need for any between-song banter – the problem with Beady Eye is that they fall short of their own aspirations – their songs build towards singalong choruses that – bar the anthemic ‘Roller’ – don’t quite merit a singalong. Ultimately, behind the swagger, the Beatles-branding and the glittering rock’n'roll past, Beady Eye fail to deliver on every count tonight.

Matt Glass