Turning up at my old stomping ground, Roehampton University, to watch The Thirst last night I was struck by the slightly restrained atmosphere at the normally raucous, sticky pound-a-pint fuelled Bands Night. 

I was to find out that the reason for this unexpected inhibition was the recent tragic death of third year student Jason Dixon.  The night was being dedicated to him, and gaps between bands and music were  indispersed with moving, teary  speeches from friends of Jason, leading groups of friends to huddle together  in groups inside and outside the bar, united in grief and shock.

        
Obviously I was greatly saddened by these events, and listened to the speeches with unforced empathy.  Yet, the music fan in me couldn’t help but reflect on how awesome four-piece The Thirst were about to perform the most difficult gig of their short existence.  I couldn’t see how anyone, barring maybe Paul McCartney, would becable to lift spirits sufficiently to get people moving and mulling on anything other than the tragic loss of their co-student. During one of the speeches, a friend of Jason declared that he would have wanted everyone to ‘have a good
time and get drunk.’ The sentiments were nicely put and appealed to the romantic in every one there (hence the cheers following the statement), but I didn’t think for a South-London second that this would happen.

Foolishly, I had not banked on the infamous healing power of rock.  The Thirst rocked the mutha-effin’ joint.      People
were smiling, dancing, shaking asses, having.A.Good.Time.  It helps that The Thirst play a recklessly catchy brand of jaunty punk, which they only break up with up with a couple of
gloriously uncheesy slower numbers ( check out ‘I’m Fallng’ here). It’s very easy to dance to, cheerful and, despite the scratchy sound in the Uni bar, absolutely fuhking fantastic, joining the dots between ‘Silent Alarm’ era  Bloc Party and The Libertines. The first band signed to Ronnie Woods Wooden record label, they should be huge and, this writer thinks at least, there is most definitely a place in the nations affections for these four afro’d Brixton punks.

But I digress. It was incredibly heartening to observe this shared musical communion.  Yes people were, are, sad.  This will continue, before softening in time.  But the music lives on, and thisis what I came home with more than anything.  Whatever the situation, however all-consuming it may seem, music canalways penetrate the membrane of our emotions. Sentimental it may sound,   but its good to know that no matter what happens, be it recession, war or death, good music will provide an escape route
and a sanctuary for those that want it. Whether you want something to reflect your emotions, or- as in last nights case- give you respite from them, it will always be there, just a click away. And I think that’s pretty powerful stuff.   

Posted In Live Reviews, Oct 24 2008. Words - David