IT HAS been a while since The B-52s last showed their beehives in Scotland – and possibly just as long since large portions of this audience were regular gig-goers. However, like their unrepentant cartoony surfpunk heroes, this crowd were determined
to cast off inhibitions and resolutely fail to act their age.
It worked to a point. There are some bands – The Cramps, for example – who somehow retain a credible edginess which belies their dotage. The B-52s, on the other hand, are starting to look like aunts and uncles dancing at a wedding, throwing themselves into their increasingly mainstream rock-a-hula beach party sounds with commitment yet not quite commanding their environment. They've always been a gleefully daft bunch; here, they occasionally looked silly, with their double entendre lyrics and uncomfortable wackiness.
The material from Funplex, their first new album in 16 years, was uniformly lacking the individuality of their early post-punk recordings. Much of the set came across like a pale imitation of their joyous chart-topper Love Shack, although Juliet Of The Spirits benefited from the absence of adenoidal frontman Fred Schneider.
Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson, rocking fresh wigs, also went it alone for the soaring Roam, garlanded with their famously strident harmonies, and Wilson really vamped and amped it up for twisted girl group oldie Give Me Back My Man.
But nothing could beat the consummate pop weirdness of their encore. Rock Lobster, the greatest song about crustaceans ever, was wonderfully frantic, while the sheer sci-fi oddness of Planet Claire ensured that the gig went out on a rich and rather strange high.
The full article contains 282 words and appears in The Scotsman newspaper.
