Βι¶ΉΤΌΕΔ

Dance pioneers, garage rock enthusiasts, Stones-aping charlatans. You could try and lump Primal Scream into many pigeon-holes, but its not the right thing to do. One thing you could never say is that they've stood still. For a band in their third decade (they've outlived even New Order) few could argue that they haven't tried to keep the spirit of invention alive in their music, although you could argue that they certainly aren't the most consistent, especially in a live context.

Before I even had an inkling that Primal Scream would become musically one of my biggest influences, they spawned a series of shows in the that are the thing of legend. A rolling set of gigs-cum-club-cum-parties that would establish a blueprint. In a chemically invigorated England, Screamadelica, and in particular Loaded, would pave the way for a hybrid of dance and indie which, to this day, is still heard in clubs, made by bands, and enjoyed by many, up and down the country. A dance record made by an unfashionable rock band and a man who had never produced before. ΜύThe Scream continued to tear their way through claustrophobic, dark dub and fierce anarcho tech-garage, on a series of albums that rubbished the idea of an indie band as two guitars, bass and drums. Records that bear testament to the musical manifesto that Primal Scream have always seemed to declare - if it feels good, do it.

So what of Primal Scream in 2008? Well, its never going to be easy trying to span a catalogue of this size, quality and depth at a gig. But why not try?

With a new album, Beautiful Future, staggering as it would seem, largely consisting of radio-friendly pop, the Scream seem to be able to meld together the best bits of their career into a enthralling visceral experience. Recent single 'Can't Go Back' is amped up, muscular and locked into tight motorik grooves. The title track comes across as, melodically, the natural successor to the Stone's gospel jangle of 'Moving On Up'. The italo bassline and reminiscent vocals of 'Uptown' hark back to Screamadelica's sentiment of having a good time all the time.

But the best bits are when the sequencer fuses with fuzzed out guitars in an ear-frying colossus of sound. The venue, more suited to flogging halibut, is suitably decked out with masses of low end, well timed lazer display and rolling video snippets. Xtrmntr is thoroughly re-explored. 'Accelerator' and 'Exterminator' sound as intense and malevolent as ever, 'Shoot Speed Kill Light' is dense with its canorous conclusion. And the siren introduces the first, true high point with 'Swastika Eyes', launching the crowd into ill-advised bouts of jacking body movements and air punching. Bobby Gillespie spitting over the top, still relatively lithe for a a man approaching his 50s.

The set list won't please everyone. Notable by its omission is the entirety of Vanishing Point. 'Loaded', 'Don't Fight It Feel It', 'Come Together', 'Kill All Hippies'... all absent. And perhaps at the pressure of the crowd-pleasing yet dubious output of 'Rocks' and 'Country Girl' (incidentally, personally one of the low moments of the night although it seemed to evoke the biggest reaction) we don't get all the material that made Primal Scream the band they are. Though thankfully they don't plumb the depths of party music too far or for too long.

For every time they attempt to launch into stratospheric drug induced giddiness, or snarling, thick waves of distortion and have succeed, there are the times when it all goes horribly wrong.

But that's great. I love them all the more for trying. Isn't trying to reach those heights what its all about?

Johnny Farry