Ah The Chameleons. The perennial North Manchester psychedelic misfits. Too late for the first wave of Manchester post punk with Joy Division and Magazine. By the time ‘Madchester’ was in full swing they’d already imploded. In the mid 80s Manchester hinterland they played The Big Music, got Steve Lillywhite in to produce ’em, got signed by a major label and sounded like a Stadium band when everyone else was playing jangly guitars and wearing anoraks.
In theory they should have been rubbing shoulders with U2 and Simple Minds or at the very least, Echo and the Bunnymen. Mishaps and misfortune meant they never quite made it to the enormodomes. They did however have a huge influence – every shoegaze band like Ride, Lush and Slowdive owe a debt to their shimmering, ambient guitar wash and the band Interpol pretty much borrowed their entire musical schtick and put it in some sharp suits.
Manchester never forgot them and over the years, versions of Chameleons fronted by the artist formerly known as Mark Burgess (who, these days only answers to the name ‘Vox’) as the only constant have kept the legacy going, and like their peers Simple Minds and the Bunnymen they are now settled around the classic “two man band’ of Vox – and original guitarist Reg Smithies (make no mistake – Elton is the 2nd best Reg in Rock). The latter positively skips across the stage as the band step out onto the Albert Hall – like he knows something we don’t know..
They’ve gradually rebuilt their audience home and abroad, particularly the US where they were a College Radio evergreen – but they always play a big homecoming gig close to Christmas and in the same way that Shack are to Liverpool, or Lindisfarne to Newcastle -these are emotional occasions with dewy eyed lads and girls hollering every word. Over the years they’ve resorted to playing old albums in full, even recreating previous classic setlists – and while they never fail to ignite there’s at times perhaps the nagging sense they were becoming a tribute to themselves.
Tonight feels different, they have a new album out and new songs to play. This seems to have had a transformative effect, they’ve got something to prove, and they play like someone has lit a massive bonfire under them. Not hearing a predictable set of songs you already know adds a bit of grit and tension and it works wonders – it jolts the Chameleons into 2025 not 1985. There are plenty of old favourites in the set if course, but the new stuff fizzes with renewed energy- I’m particularly taken with ‘David Bowie Takes My Hand’ a slow burning anthem which despite it’s clunky title has an emotional heft to it and sound like a future classic that’ll be part of the set for some time. They close the first part with a mind frazzling twofer of ‘Soul in Isolation’ and ‘Swamp Thing’, with Vox, arms outstretched, leading the type of transcendental singalong that most bands of this vintage can only dream of.
They return and slash through a rip roaring ‘In Shreds’ and the obligatory ‘Second Skin’ ( a song so good, the audience are singing the keyboard riff before it even starts) and just when you thing it’s all over a final explosive ‘Don’t Fall’ segues into a call & response riff on Bowie’s ‘Rebel Rebel’ – pure stadium rock showmanship again. I don’t recall seeing them play with such gusto for a long time and with new music to play, they feel current and vital rather than just peddling nostalgia for us fluorescent greys. Vox says this’ll be the last time we see them for a while – so whether they will be back next Xmas, I don’t know but do not miss them if they are.