The Aristocrats — 20 November 2023 (Barcelona)
Organised by: Madness Live
Venue: Salamandra
Photography: Jordi Amela (@amela_photo_concert)
Writer: Jordan G.
Ahead of us waited the bare stage with its instruments expectant, silent and stripped of soul, but ready to come back to life thanks to three of the friendliest characters on the so-called-virtuoso scene. And so they appeared, one by one, after the opening bars of the intro chosen for the occasion — this time the classic “Satisfaction”, but in Devo‘s version — each stepping in one at a time to stake out their turf within the cocktail of varied twists and turns they were about to offer us.
The one tasked with unleashing the storm heading our way was “Stupid 7” from “3 Caballeros”. Quite the statement of intent, set against a backdrop of frantic activity with an intense rhythmic base, yet without much overcrowding — the spotlight-sharing space of each of the three players was respected, and everyone could develop things to their own taste.
As it ended, Beller made the proper band introductions and announced their new album, out next February, already giving us a taste of it across the next two tracks. Minnemann was in charge of introducing his own, “Drink Package”, showcasing a polyrhythmic composition packed with tricky off-beat passages while Govan ran through his impossible scale runs and Beller backed up whatever they threw at him without so much as blinking. More laughs once it ended, and this time it was Govan’s turn to introduce his new track, “SGT Rockhoper”. It’s funny, but I always notice a sarcastic, deeply shy type whose voice shakes when he addresses the crowd, yet who shares his madcap compositional inspirations without hesitation. If you listen closely, you can hear a whole story unfold in his guitar phrases, as if it were a comic strip. It stars the penguin who appears on the cover of their live album, “Freeze”, where — if you remember — it holds the three of them, rendered as Lego figures. That character is the one patrolling the jagged ice of his new track, simply brilliant, and the perfect segue into another of his introductions, for the hilarious story of “Bad Asteroid”, which showed up to disturb the peaceful lives of the dinosaurs. I promise you it’s an intense ride that glides from the purest Jazz Prog into rockier passages without ever losing an ounce of feeling or through-line
The exquisite “The Ballad of Bonnie and Clyde” from “You Know What..?” was introduced, as it could only be, by Beller — it’s his own story, about the unfortunate incident when thieves stole his basses and pedals. The song’s cadence drops you into a black-and-white film reel, where you go from a comic reproach in the chorus to a chaotic chase in the track’s central development. Very much the band’s own trademark. Once the track ended, Beller kept up his role as master of ceremonies and took the chance to poll the crowd on what style they thought the next new track would explore. Everyone got it wrong across the board, because what came next was nothing other than a blend of 90s Dancing!! These guys can handle anything, and once the chords of the chorus from C+C Music Factory’s “Everybody Dance Now” rang out, the mood turned fully open to a bit of a dance-along. Looking around at the crowd you saw knowing smiles, and it was the perfect track to lead into that peak moment that can only really be pulled off with drums. Marco Minnemann settled in to deliver that trademark outpouring of skill, brutality and extreme control. The moment his sticks struck the hi-hat, carving out impossible patterns between his fingers with a fiendish rhythm and never losing an ounce of control, is territory very few can claim.
They moved straight into “Through The Flower”, which Minnemann explained is a bit like having to tell someone you don’t like something without wanting to hurt their feelings — and here was that exquisite opening tone conjured by Govan’s whammy bar. A genuinely curious track that carried on into the “Ohhhh Nooooo” bit, where the rubber mascots Minnemann brought along backed up the chorus, driven by his drumming, which shone especially bright with that mocking tone running through the whole song — about the time Govan‘s amp fell on the floor.
“Furtive Jack”, up next, was one of my favourites. Another thieves’ tale, as they explained, and it showed in its metre and time signatures — heavily accented, veering again and again into jazzier territory before returning to the opening beat. There was a brilliant bassline from Beller with constant call-and-response from Govan, setting him up for his own particular solo. Because he always knows exactly when and where to place the accent.
We were nearing the end, and there was no way they’d skip the band’s own self-declared saddest song, “Last Orders” (from “You Know What..?”). Here the backstory came from Govan, and its subject was nothing less than the bleak feeling stirred up by the bell used in his country to call last orders at the pub. His arpeggios pulled you into a genuine mood, dropping you right into a strongly accented chorus with the flavour of classic folk from that part of the world, with a run of exchanges between him and Beller that carried all the effectiveness of true melancholy. The improvised passage they laid down as a lead-in to the solo was so varied you couldn’t take your eyes off Govan‘s fingers, culminating in an absolutely overwhelming shred moment before pulling us back, again and again, into the driving chorus.
They said their goodbyes none too convincingly, before immediately, and without much coaxing needed, launching into one more track: “Blues Fuckers” from their debut album “The Aristocrats” (funnily enough, this was the track they opened with on their previous visit, and one of the few repeated tracks, alongside “Last Orders” and “The Ballad of Bonnie and Clyde”). This track was ideal for jumping between styles once again and making room for improvisation, stretching out what would be their final number. They took the chance to interact with the crowd and even slipped in a familiar passage or two, like a few chords of “La Bamba”.
After the customary photo with a packed, devoted room, they left the way they arrived — with the simplicity of people who know they’ve got nothing to prove; they play in a different league altogether. Their project was born out of making music for themselves, and one day they decided to share it, secure in the knowledge they’d go out, have fun, and let anyone who wanted to join in enjoy it too. It’s no easy thing to balance jokes, anecdotes, complicity and flawless execution on stage without ever growing tiresome. They simply want to, and live for, their own enjoyment.
A pleasure as always, Caballeros — your visits are always a journey through the most wildly different emotions. Don’t ever change; you’re one of a kind in the format you offer, with flawless quality throughout.