There are some simple rules at his gigs, Frank Turner tells us before things really get going. “Don’t be a dick” naturally. And, “if you know the words to any of the songs, you have to sing them”. Both were assiduously adhered to at Brudenell Social Club in Leeds.
The night had kicked off brilliantly with two fine tour supports, handpicked by Turner to accompany him on this leg of his seemingly never ending touring journey.
Essex-based singer-songwriter Ben Brown gave us a thoroughly entertaining half hour of acoustic indie-folk, interspersed with witty chat that even involved an impromptu auction of the t-shirt he was wearing on stage!
The Meffs, by contrast, delivered a set of raw punk energy, the two-piece outfit making an impact much greater than the sum of their parts.
The room is creaking at the seams by the time Turner emerges, and could have sold out 10 times over. In fact, Turner congratulates the crowd for even getting a ticket. There are many other, larger venues in Leeds that he could easily have sold, and no-one would have batted an eyelid. The draw of this legendary social club remains strong though, and on a couple of occasions, Turner declares it one of his favourite stages in the world.
Equally, it’s a stage where his particular brand of folk-punk sits very comfortably. Sweaty, jam-packed, fervent fans brimming over to experience the forceful delivery of this cult hero at close range.
Supporting his 10th record – Undefeated – is the stated aim for the tour, but there is plenty here to delight the crowd, as he dips into virtually every phase of his career. From the new album, there are great reactions for No Thank You For The Music and the look back at the difficult COVID years with Pandemic PTSD. This is the talent of Frank Turner in a nutshell, the ability to express the thoughts and feelings of the crowd with pithy lyrics. In particular here, he’s sharing that, despite a position of perceived privilege, we all felt lost and confused during those difficult couple of years.
When Brudenell is packed like this, it turns into a sweaty cauldron of musical energy. Frank is sweating through his shirt to such an extent that it’s running off him and dripping from his Gibson SG. He is an artist that doesn’t leave anything out there, giving everything from start to finish. He heats the room up more as the songs generate spontaneous, swirling circle pits in the middle of the floor. Turner is pleased. “You’re jumping” he says. “I think we could be friends, we should hang out more”. They’d love to!
In the acoustic section, still belted at 11, Turner is alone on stage, lit just by white spotlights, matching the purity of the sound. It’s an exceptional part of the set – such a strong connection, like a true friendship, between the crowd and artist.
Ceasefire further shares the vulnerability in this seemingly most powerful of artists, telling the story of the anxiety of Turner’s 15 year old self. Somewhere in Between is a “sister song” to Ceasefire, putting on the show to get through the anxious feelings.
As we head towards the end of the show, Turner tell us how he has “completed Leeds”. From the Packhorse, The Wardrobe, the old Cockpit, right through to the Academy and the arena. But still, the Brudenell is the favourite. “Look at this place” he says. “You are the reason we still get to come out to do this, and we don’t take it for granted”
The four song final stretch shows that the fans don’t take him for granted either. “Open up the floor and get your f***ing dancing shoes on” he cries. The crowd happily complies once more and we’re catapulted to the end of a spectacular night on a wave of folk-punk joy that we all wish could have gone on for twice as long.
