The Popes of Chillitown, Freetown

We arrive at a frittering Bush Hall just as main support act Freetown are coming on stage. Freetown play bass-heavy ska, including a good dose of covers, having clearly listened to this style of music for some years. Our starter for ten is the jazz standard, 'Take Five', which meanders pleasantly along for quite a while without outstaying its welcome. We note an authentic and familiar sounding take on 'Rock Steady' early on. We are then bemused to have Marc Bolan's 'Hot Love' unashamedly introduced halfway through. A trombonist is added at this point, but alas this one's a meandering beast that befits the lack of movement on stage.



Next up is '54 56 Was My Number', which we work out to be a Toots & The Maytals tune. It moves along without undue haste, which provides for comfortable skanking, and so is a return to form. The penultimate effort, 'Swimming the Atlantic' reminds us, through its decent propulsion, of The Beat. It's one of their own compositions, and not out of place we decide.

By the end of their 8-song set, most of the 50 or so crowd in the hall are moving their limbs in time to the music, which we see as a job well done for a support band. We muse that Freetown are not set to take over the world, ever, but they’d go down very nicely at a festival gone midnight, after the main acts have headlined, in the areas where the night-owls roam looking for tunes rather than beats. We have no idea whether Freetown are way ahead of us on this point, but they've been at it now for eight years, working with the likes of Rico Rodriguez in their time, so there’s every chance.



After refills at the counter behind the main hall where tins are served, we note that The Popes of Chillitown have sellotaped their banner to the curtains behind the stage. It would appear that they are rising suns. When they come on, there's a clear positive reaction with the now 100+ crowd, mainly catalysed we think through the energy and initial charisma of their unduly tall singer known to the media as 'The Evil Uncle'. He often lollops over the edge of the stage to reach closer to those at ground level, and he clearly can't keep still. In contrast, we notice late in their set that they do have a drummer, for he suddenly escapes the confines of his seat and does that standing sticks-in-the-air thing that Mr Dreadzone is so partial to. We suggest a contractual agreement for him, media name 'Pope Idol', to leave his seat and raise those sticks in celebration at least five times per set in future.

There's a fierce energy to the first five songs. All Popes' (well they can't be The Chillies...) originals as far as we can tell, they enliven the atmosphere through the band's brand of upbeat ska, solid rhythm courtesy also of bassist 'Toke Pope', and regular overlaying saxophone courtesy of 'Saxy Pope'. We note also the occasional fingers-everywhere-fast efforts of lead guitarist 'Dark Pope', and biggest grinner 'Sour Pope' on rhythm guitar. There's lots to see and hear, and we approve very much whilst shaking our bits in time to it all.



The band then take on a cover of 'Chase the Devil', an old ska song most recently made famous through Dreadzone, Prodigy, or Madness, depending on your tastes. But we realise that the singer can't really manage its lower notes, and the music lacks enough of the song's necessary bass. Maybe the bass is unfortunately low in the mix tonight, but actually all their music comes across that way. And then we realise that it's a game of two halves this evening, as the essential energy of earlier gradually seeps away for the last five or so songs. We note for instance that the crowd's dancing has become a little drained, and the singer has started muttering with the band between songs instead of focussing fully on the crowd.

We reach a tune, 'Free Man' that sounds distinctly un-ska. It's their choice and it's a free country, but maybe that's why the singer dons a mask at this point, as it doesn't add to things. However, 'Who's To Say' sounds like a soundclash between The Levellers and Big Country. It almost restores the initial heights, but then the final song is strangely a more acoustic number that either lacks substance or is too subtle for us at this point of the evening. No encore, and no demands for it either, sadly.

So there we presented The Popes of Chillitown. A band of clear potential, with some tight and catchy 'Brit-Ska' (genre borrowed from their website), plenty of energy and enthusiasm, but by no means the finished package. However, in a year that promises a big dose of The Specials after all these years, and a return of MadStock, could they front the rise of new, young ska bands into the mainstream? Or will they just be a saxophonist and some ordinary boys?



Popes of Chillitown setlist:
Lazy Sunday
Type of Man
Terrible Host
Prove Me Wrong
BOGOF
Chase the Devil
End 'Em All
Free Man
8 Weeks
Who's to Say
BBB

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