HUGGY BEAR LIVE

  

29 August 1992: White Horse, Hampstead, London
Review: The first time I saw ...


Clapham Grand - 3 Sept 1992

31 October 1992: White Horse, Hampstead, London
Review: It's difficult to know ...


Powerhaus - 27 November 1992

29 November 1992: Scala Cinema, London
Recording: audience / mins / ANA(1)>CDR
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December 1992: Maida Vale Studios, London (John Peel radio session)
Recording: radio source / mins / FM>ANA(1)
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14 February 1993: Richmond, Brighton
Review: Much has been made of Huggy Bear over the past six months. Generally treated as Britain's bright young future-in-rock, they've had A&R chaps retching, manipulative journalists ...

3 March 1993: Conway Hall, Holborn, London
Review:

14 March 1993: University of London Union
Recording: audience / mins / ANA(M)
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8 April 1993: Powerhaus, Islington, London
Recording: audience / mins / ANA(M)
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Review: The idea that Huggy Bear won't talk to the press because they've got nothing to say isn't really justifiable. It smacks of superiority, and an assumption that nothing exists unless we report it. Huggy Bear aren't even sure if they exist themselves anymore. "We're not real," Chris moans, and you can see his point. Huggy Bear have become a media entity by dint of their absence, they've been attacked and elevated from all angles but their own, and as far as they can see, they're not getting through. After tonight, I don't know whether or not they've got a great deal to "say" either - other than the lyrics to "Her Jazz" are "Girl-Boy revolution" not "Boy-Girl" ("We're about prioritising females," Nikki shouts, exasperated) - but they sure as hell get through to me.

There aren't that many people who can make me feel this insecure - only Diamanda Galas, Lydia Lunch, and Rollins have a similar effect. That's not because I'm a journalist and therefore an enemy in their midst, but because they're so insecure themselves. The Huggies might be trying to raise issues, but fundamentally they're trying to raise themselves, to hold their own identity together. They want to claim the present, but now it's tearing them apart.

This is like stepping out into a minefield. Their vocal detonations keep knocking them off balace so that their centre of gravity keeps slipping, turning into a disorientating succession of counter-reactions and counter-blasts. You don't know where to turn. Chris and Jo share a mic, faces pulled taut as though it were electrified, and Nikki os sweetness and fright. "YOU WANT TO KILL ME!!! But you won't" she howls/coos, switching between fever bitch and taunting child in an instant.

Nowhere's safe. A friend reckons they can't take the strain much longer, but any band who hold themselves this dearly is too important to go to waste. Huggy Bear do have substance, but it's Semtex. The blew my mind. [Jon Seltzer, Melody Maker, 24 April 1993]

?? July 1993: Notre Dame Hall, London
Review: Breaking the silence following the white-hot furore surrounding them earlier this year, Huggy Bear are a band under pressure.

For some, they are the most hated band in Britain. Crazy accusations fly, some old flakes are even blaming them for the "death of the live circuit". Debates are raging, blood is boiling. Not for a long timehas a band been so misunderstood, and yet so fiercely supported by its own cult following.

The fact that Huggy Bear, in a glorious confusion of contradictions, mean something, is more than enough in these directionless and dangerous times.

Huggy Bear stumble tonight. They are an erratic live band at the best of times. Perhaps this is their beauty, that there is no concession to showbiz platitudes.

January 1994: The Powerhaus, Islington, London
Review: Shouldn't Huggy Bear have split up by now?

The kids on the street don't get it (indecipherable shoutings are hard to latch onto, apart from getting off on the energy), and their cultural assault guerrila tactics have played a small but significant part in temporarily sweeping away corporate-spun cobwebs.

Fine re-workings of 'T-Shirt Tucked In' and the spleen-splitting 'Dissthentic Penetration'; Niki chewing gum like some Cockney Grease extra and quoting 'Too Much Too Young' at us; a Sonic Youth-y one ('Sizzlemeat', I think) Chris as camp as Charles Hawtrey's Carry On parts; ordered chaos poetry; a drum-fulled, compulsive 'No Sleep'; and a Black Flag cover, 'Gimme Gimme Gimme' that hints at continuing progression.

Swoon. The infamous, anti-fame, not-very-famous Huggys stop a step short of scamsters Generation Positive, however. (They rather wonderfully urged all rock bands to call themselves White Colours, to debunk all notions of stardom and genius.) Empowering the kids is a worthy raison d'etre, but the Huggys should either build on their situationist gains or split to reform in some other spectacular dimension before their divine insurrection becomes too fetishised. You can never imagine them falling into the album / tour / album trap. [Carl Loben, Melody Maker, 8 January 1994]