Everything’s bigger in America, or so they say. Whoever coined the phrase must have been talking about Black Stone Cherry’s riffs too, because the boys from Kentucky know how to bring a UK tour to a close in style at Wembley Arena with their brand of straightforward southern rock. As frontman Chris Robertson says himself in his rich, southern drawl, “Ain’t no time for bullshit tonight, only time for greatness.”
Black Stone Cherry love the UK (“We played the ‘yoo loo’” says guitarist Ben Wells, presumably referring to ULU, “we got to play the Hammersmith, we got to play the Brixton….we appreciate the shit out of every one of you.”) and they’re determined to give back in bombastic style. From the banner drop and screamed intro to opener ‘Me And Mary Jane’, it’s clear they’ve still got energy left after a long tour and they’re prepared to throw it all into a show as subtle as a sledgehammer. ‘Burnin’ opens and closes with flaming solos courtesy of a hyperactive Wells, who seems to be in constant motion before they seamlessly stomp into ‘Again’, with drums like a jackhammer and imitable head-banging and hair flicks. But it’s when they start to get into their stride and slow down to savour each chord that the magic happens. Extending ‘Out Of Pocket’ with a slowed, bluesy intro before it, the drop lends a thoughtful tone to the key changes that the studio recording is lacking, and makes Robertson’s acceleration through the rough seas of the chorus even more dramatic before the vocal snap to finish.
The moments that make tonight special are when Black Stone Cherry appear at their most vulnerable. ‘Stay’ is rarely played in it’s fully electric incarnation, and in this form it’s a power anthem that deserves lighters, still retaining the charm of the softer original with a quiet drop to let us sing. In the middle of the waving hands blooming above the floor, some fans stand stock still, roaring their voices back to the stage. “Life ain’t about material bullshit, it’s about the beautiful people in our lives,” says Robertson before he dedicates ‘Things My Father Said’ to his dad. Suddenly the arena feels colder and lights spring to our hands as the vocalist stands alone onstage, gently spiralling into unearthed reminiscence. At the first, slightest pause we take the chance to seize vocals from him, and he seems taken aback. “I’m gonna take my ear plugs out to really hear you guys,” he apologises as he pauses, his voice cracking and tears beginning to roll down his face. A song abstracted from our own lives rushes into realism as he holds his hands into a heart, posed back from the microphone.
The sentiment can only last for so long. “That’s enough damn crying!” Robertson exclaims to himself, and quotes his father’s advice: “Go out, play it like you stole it and kick em in the ass for me!” Our connection rebuilds over ‘In My Blood’s chunking baselines, with enough space awarded for a singalong that feels like a celebration. The harder-hitting numbers roll on with ‘When The Pain Comes’, the shattering drama of the opening chords excavating thunderous rock. “We never recorded a song for a tour’s sake before,” goes the explanation for ‘American Horse’, “and we Black Stone Cherry’d that motherfucker like you wouldn’t believe.” That feels like the best summary for the reinvented, gutsy update to the Cult’s classic song: it’s been reconstructed into their next hit, every aspect of the original taken up a notch and branded with their sound like a muscular steer. “How the hell we gonna follow that up, right?” Wells laughs before ‘White Trash Millionaire’, the huge, ironic silliness of the favourite fossilised into a full anthem. If anything, Black Stone Cherry increase in speed through their set, leaving a trail of dry ice and increasingly complex solos in their wake as they hit ‘Lonely Train’ and ‘Blame It On The Boom Boom’.
‘Stadium-busting rock stars’ is not the impression they want to leave us with, though. After announcing that they’ll be returning to headline next year’s Maid of Stone festival in Kent, you’d expect an even loading encore. But no. ‘Peace Is Free’ provides a resolute finish designed to flick on our inner filaments. Robertson strides into the middle of the crowd, in a puddle of light, encouraging us to “let go of all the bullshit” in an all-encompassing scream. “Thank you for the last seventeen years,” he states simply as he’s escorted back onstage, planting his hat on a fan as he goes. There’s far more to Black Stone Cherry than the gigantic riffs and singalong anthems that they’ve become famous for, and tonight we were privileged enough to see both sides of the rockers before their return next year.
Kate Allvey