The Levellers @ The Cheese And Grain, Frome

You know it’s gonna be a crazy night when the road to Frome is paved with horrors such as hospital trips for one child who’s been poked in the eye, and I’m on crutches with bits of me not working… So sitting outside the stage door of the Cheese and Grain chatting to The Levellers’ bassist Jeremy and admiring his dreadlocks seemed like the ultimate chill out after a BAD day…

My 12 year old is in hot pursuit of autographs (he has perfectly intact eyes, thankfully), I’m interviewing and crawling into a photo pit to do my creative worst. Yet there’s a festival flavour to this show, indeed it forms part of the Frome Festival 2009, a well respected local event encompassing varied local arts over two weeks every summer.

A capacity crowd of around 850 is expected in this muti-use local hall, and the place is filling pretty quickly as my boy wriggles down to the front, ready to make his stand for the duration. Me, I grab a chair from backstage and start getting heavily into support act Hobo Jones and the Junkyard Dogs. I know nothing about this crazy skiffle-esque band apart from what they tell me (they are a SKUNK band – not the weed, a blend of SKA and PUNK with a smattering of Lonny Donegan, you stoned lot!)They do have an album of their own out, but they do mad covers and look like a cross between Fagin and… some other tramp. With dreads. Odd. They were bloody good, as it happens.

I’ve lost my boy somewhere in the crowd and am behind the barrier ready for The Levellers, camera poised and security twitching. Apparently my very existence is a security risk, or a health and safety headache! Who cares? The set blasts off with Life Less Ordinary and then moves straight into The Battle of the Beanfield, my all-time fave track from Levelling The Land. The set is a perfectly executed blend of old masters and new classics from the recently released Letters From The Underground.

And I guess that’s where my criticism begins. The show seems very good, lights and sound great for what is known to be an acoustically awkward venue; but I’ve never seen this band before, only heard how crazy the shows are and how much energy there is. Now, OK, Jeremy is one of the most energetic bassists I’ve seen, swinging those dreads with passionate abandon - which comes as a true surprise given that he seems the quietest shy boy to talk to. But everyone else just kind of stands there and plays. The crowd go crazy, I’m informed it was hot, sweaty and absolutely banging down the front – but from the side I see what may later be classed as a somewhat lacklustre performance, certainly technically and vocally damn near perfect but lacking a certain enthusiasm.

Even the crowd seem to be a mixed bag, an interesting mish-mash of die-hard fans who look and smell funny, mingling with the young and trendy Somerset set, who seem largely oblivious to the music and more interested in imbibing alcohol and taking pictures of each other. Odd. But the middle of the room seem to know all the words as the show slips tidily into encores of World Freak Show, Come On and Riverflow.

The crowd begins to thin and we get treated to the anthemic Liberty as the final number. And I remember that the word is the weapon and the show just brings us together. It was a great night, but I hope the band raise a bit more energy for the huge tour stretching before them throughout the summer and beyond, or this album may be remembered as Letters From Snoozeville instead. And that would be a shame – because the music and the message remain as strong and potent as ever.