Venue: The Harley, Sheffield
Date: 4 June 2011
With the pretentious décor of the Harley burning onto my retinas, the bobbing shield of heads is quite the blessing. Wet Nuns are heehawing to an already smashed crowd, after a day of drinking at Sheffield’s Peace in the Park and some girls in front of me are impressed an American band would fly over to Sheffield for a free gig. They wouldn’t, but these two men HAVE trekked all the way from the Deep South Yorkshire, (Sheffield Alabama!) for tonight, and “y’all should be having a good time.” With Jesus and Kid Rock’s progeny as a guitarist and a gnarly tattooed leprechaun on drums, the density of their bluesy groove-laden punk is surprising – as is how much the shit red-neck American accent which Terence Trent sings with raises Wet Nuns to a whole new awesome level.
Not backed, but partnered with Wired Earp – these two are tighter than a nun’s bed sheets. Given how justified they would be in slipping into arrogance and pretentiousness, their irreverent and indifferent attitude works for a mesmerising stage presence and lulls the crowd into similar care-free dancing, head-banging, fluid state, which wraps itself around the stage like a kind of awe-filled hug.
To be perfectly honest, there’s little point in breaking down their set and trying to describe each moment with music-journo adjectives, you need to be there – ‘cos Wet Nuns don’t give a fuck and neither do I.