Brown Horse @ Rich Mix, London (Live Review)
- Written by Captain Stavros
Brown Horse
@ Rich Mix
Words & Pics by Captain Stavros
Brown Horse Ride Tall, With a Saloon-Stirring Set of Cosmic Country and Twangy Catharsis
Strolling into Rich Mix a casual fifteen before curtain, it was hard not to feel like an extra in a spaghetti western: empty floors, shadowy corners, and one rogue dust bunny playing tumbleweed under the stage lights. But, by the time Brown Horse floated on near 9pm, the ghost town had bloomed into a bustling saloon, packed and primed for a showdown of sound.
They opened with ‘Verma Bloom’; a scene-setter if there ever was one. The gentle strum of guitar met the drawl of a steel slide. The whole thing radiating the warmth of ‘Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door’ if it were filtered through East Anglian skies. Just as you thought you’d settled into a soft groove, the track took flight with a sharp turn; hooky, bright, and full of quiet intention. Minor complaint: the accordion was there (our sharpest-eyed spotters clocked it during setup) but got drowned out in the mix. A shame, as it felt like the unsung hero waiting for its cue.
From there, the set rolled on like a cattle drive under moonlight. ‘Dog Rose’, a dog by any other name, brought a dusty, nostalgic sway that evoked the likes of Ambulance Ltd, all loping rhythm and wistful twang.
‘Come Back Logan’ ebbed and flowed like coastal tide, elegant and muscular in its rises and falls. Then ‘Wisteria Rose’ shook things up with instrument-swapping between the band members; a move always endearing, and one that speaks to a group in sync and unafraid to keep things fluid.
‘Corduroy Couch’ arrived like a fired shot, the kind that comes after someone finally says “enough,” packs up their life, and hits the road in search of something softer. It moved with the energy of someone seeking their rippled relaxer and might just be the song to soundtrack the decision.
Then came ‘Radio Free Bolinas’—the emotional crescendo of the night. This time, the accordion got its moment: cracking open like an egg, opening like a sail, and finally locking into perfect harmony with the steel guitar. But it was the bass that stole the spotlight here; a dominant, driving force that called to mind the best of Bloc Party's spiky intensity and the Flea-flavoured bounce of early Chili Peppers, grounding the track with a confidence that had the room moving in unison.
‘Wipers’, a brand-new cut dripping in early Wallflowers-style melancholia; moosey, wounded, and undeniably emotive. It left the crowd hushed, swaying, and wanting more. Fortunately, an encore was on the cards with Brown Horse closing out their set with ‘Shoot Back’.
As die-hard fanboys of all things western, whether it’s the gun-slinging grit of Leone films, the cosmic cowboy stylings of Gram Parsons, or just the sweet, lonesome clop of hooves on dust, it was a treat to watch Brown Horse steer London’s East End away from musical theatre and tired indie clichés, and straight into a twilit sonic frontier.
Brown Horse aren’t just passing through; they’re laying track, picking up steam, and hell-bent on riding their cosmic americana all the way to the stars.
