The 30th of April 2010 marked a monumental and much awaited change for the face of live music in Hampshire. At precisely 7.30pm on a balmy Friday evening, The Palace opened its doors for the first time to a diverse and animated crowd of revellers - many of whom were veteran Jam fans and attended specifically to witness the powerhouse-of-bass that is Bruce Foxton. Other individuals however, were simply in pursuit of a fulfilling live music experience, and somewhere unique in which to enjoy it.
Neither parties were disappointed upon entering the newly remodelled Palace. Exclamations of excitement and a chorus of Oh My God's could not be masked as the crowd slowly filtered in to the main stage area, almost needing a moment of stillness to adjust to the palatial sight that greeted them. With a design lay-out to rival the likes of Hammersmith Apoll and a sound system to rival a wall of Marshall amps cranked up to eleven, The Palace has on first impressions alone anointed itself as the location for live music in the local vicinity, and beyond.
The tone of the evening was effortlessly set with the jaunty acoustics of Kim Slade, who’s tales of dejected youth provoked a striking sense of familiarity in almost everyone present. Taking to the velvet-draped stage with only a guitar and a distinctive voice, Slade immersed the audience in skippy upbeat chords whilst regaling in the mundane experience of growing up a British kid. At times tinged with hints of Oasis, at others with an obvious influence of Ska, Slade’s melodic offerings were akin to hitchhiking across the most influential genres in music, all within the space of a twenty minute set. One particular highlight of the performance was the deliciously naughty track Cartwheels, which provoked a rhythmic flurry of stomping and clapping as Slade delivered such lyrical sentiments as “At the end of her bed was where I took off her little red dress”.
With the stage now suitably christened for the presence of an epic Mod revival, Bruce Foxton, Rick Buckler and Russell Hastings stepped out in perfectly polished Creepers to an overwhelming offering of ovation. Any concerns regarding the absence of Paul Weller were quickly diminished as the first blistering chords of Down In The Tube Station At Midnight rang out over The Palace, swiftly followed by Hastings’ pitch-perfect (and delightfully acerbic) vocal display. It was almost as if each line was being uttered by Weller himself, and the delight of the crowd manifested itself as unbridled, pogo-ing mania.
The wrenchingly nostalgic Jam anthems kept on coming - each one performed with more energy and passion than the last. In The City, Start! and a particularly beautiful rendition of That’s Entertainment were dispensed with total disregard of age, especially in the case of Foxton who leapt across the stage with such height that his eighteen year old self would probably have turned green with envy. A version of The Eton Rifles (ironically dedicated to David Cameron) was played with such enthusiasm that the bass could be felt reverberating around the centre of the chest, altering the rhythm of the heart beat through sheer volume and velocity.
The audience were indulged further still when the performance was concluded with a favourites-laden encore, including Beat Surrender and A Town Called Malice. As the infamous target logo presided over the stage, not a single soul in the venue remained still: a true testament to the impeccable musicianship and raucous energy produced by From The Jam that evening.
Now that’s entertainment.
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