• Shaun O'Neill
  • June 14, 2023
  • Reviews

The War On Drugs, – Progresja, Letnia Scena, Warsaw

A cold wind is whipping down the flat plains of Mazowieckie on this sunny June evening. Alas, summer has not quite arrived here, but from the first notes of The War on Drugs’ set at 20:00 (sharp), it is very evident the band have, and mostly importantly, they are going to play their hearts out on their Polish debut and give everyone an evening to remember.

The wistful nostalgia the band have been cultivating over the past 15 years exudes a pan-generational magnetism. The crowd here are a beguiling mix of middle-aged grey-haired dudes (like me), young emo couples and 30-something hipsters with cool facial hair. Frontman kingpin Adam Granduciel’s hypnotising guitar work is a wailing, overdriven eulogy to the Godfather of grunge – Neil Young and Crazy Horse. Amp upon amp is stacked up on the stage; it’s loud as fuck but music like this really needs to be. His solos follow a familiar formula, outrageously over-the-top and exciting in an I-want-to-play-airguitar way. Granduciel’s plaintive and silky vocal, distinctly unique yet oddly derivative, is like the quintessential distillation of 80’s rock radio with a bit of Bob Dylan-delivery and lyrical eloquence thrown in for good measure. Yes, I get the Bryan Adams put downs and it is of course a bit reminiscent without being a complete turn off. Anyway, Adams cannot make his guitar sing and weep like this.

Adam Granduciel’s hypnotising guitar work is a wailing, overdriven eulogy to the Godfather of grunge – Neil Young and Crazy Horse. Amp upon amp is stacked up on the stage; it’s loud as fuck but music like this really needs to be.

© Photos by Wojtek Dobrogojski courtesy of Klub Progresja

The beautiful ghost of Springsteen’s old E-street band line-up is materialised by Jon Natchez’s rhythmic, lascivious saxophone, a sound that harks lovingly back to the late great Clarence Clemons. The joyous keyboards are also pivotal to the fat sound that oozes out with a viscosity like treacle; if you could taste this sound it’d be the most decadent, velvet chocolate over a buttery biscuit base. Speaking of the bottom end, there’s also something else going on with The War on Drugs: Dave Hartley’s pulsing bass encases the songs in its mesmeric drive forward, its whirring propulsion instilling an urgency that is born out in classic numbers with a Krautrock-feel like Harmonia’s Dream, insisting that the band is so much more than a dad-rock 80’s throwback. Lyrically the content can be thematically dark – isolation, depression, uncertainty, fear – an incongruous match that belies the overtly feel-good vibe of many of the tunes. I was surprised how their live sound has become so much more synth-laden and retro than their alt-country beginnings, but how cool does the harmonica sound when it’s thrown into this heady mix? Yes, it’s all very redolent of classic American ‘rawk’ – yet the egregious dick-swinging has been demoted, with an understated world-weary sensibility instead replacing it.

Adam Granduciel is probably one of my favourite frontmen these days... He’s finally had the chance to be reborn; true, his heart still aches and doubts will always remain, but he’s funnelling it all into a creative maelstrom of thrumming live energy.

Standout tracks are the triumphantly explosive An Ocean In Between the Waves, the calamitous and heart-breaking squalor of Under the Pressure, the jubilant Eyes to the Wind, the melodically effervescent I Don’t Live Here Anymore and the audience’s request of Thinking of a Place.

Adam Granduciel is probably one of my favourite frontmen these days: gone is the shy and awkward insecurity of yesteryear. He’s now loving the role, comfortable in his own skin, having a laugh and a joke with his band and very much living the moment. He’s finally had the chance to be reborn; true, his heart still aches and doubts will always remain, but he’s funnelling it all into a creative maelstrom of thrumming live energy.

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