Imagine what it’s like for four young men from Cardiff, tossed into the eye of the hurricane that is The Ordinary Boys' first big UK jaunt post Big Brother. When The Automatic last toured with them, the Sussex-based ska-punksters were struggling to flog a poorly received second album, Preston was a depressing city in the North West and Chantelle was the main character in about 101 US-teen comedies.
 | | The Automatic |
But if The Automatic are nervous opening for the hottest ticket in Manchester tonight, they don't show it, launching straight into their brand of curious power-rock with a pop twist, satisfying the screaming teenage girls and pogoing middle-aged men in equal measure. They're difficult to pigeonhole these Cardiff boys, treading a bizarre fine line between boy band and Bon Jovi. Where they get the rock/pop balance right is on new single Raoul. Despite the fact it's unashamedly built on a White Stripes riff, it has all the makings of a pop classic - big-sounding, catchy chorus and impossible not to clap along to. It’s not all good though. See the beast that is Monster, all power chords and nonsense lyrics (“what's that coming over the hill? Is it a monster?”), and worry that they might still be, frankly, crap. Next, it’s ‘Preston and The Ordinary Boys’, on tour to prove the tabloids wrong and that the front man is just that - and not a singer with a backing band. To the Ordinary Army, it's a given, and the hardcore welcome back their heroes with a roar as they stride on stage and launch into Week In Week Out. With it's tales of 9-5 drudgery, Preston's lyrics now ring hollow - not that the audience cares. It's almost as if the Heat spreads never happened. Sadly for the girls, there's no sign of that Torso of the Week as the love-in continues but the shirt stays firmly on. New additions to The Ordinary Boys' audience ( as in glossies’ readers) look slightly disturbed by the enthusiastic crowd-surfing to tracks from Over The Counter Culture, but there's respite for them during songs from Brassbound. It's here that things fall slightly flat. Sure, the likes of Call To Arms and Life Will Be The Death Of Me are enthusiastically received - but pale into insignificance with the frenzied response to the first chords of Talk Talk Talk. Despite the occasional lulls, the tide of good feeling is obvious throughout the night and by the time Boys Will Be Boys closes the set, it threatens to turn into a tidal wave. A mass dance-along ensues, crowd-surfing ramps up a gear and smiles break out all around. There really is no need for an encore (although inevitably, one follows). Was it like this six months ago? Probably not. Are they a better band now they have something to prove? Inexplicably, yes.
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