Bristol
25 November 2025
On the strength of the recent Warp reissues of the first two Sabres Of Paradise albums, Jagz Kooner and Gary Burns have decided to reconvene, with the sad exception of the late Andrew Weatherall, the original line-up that toured the albums first time around. Coming around some thirty years after those initial albums were released, it is an opportunity for Jagz and Gary, along with percussionist Richard Thair and bassist Nick Abnett from The Aloof, and guitarist Phil Mossman, ex-LCD Soundsystem.
By time of the arrival of the Sabres, the place was pretty packed and anticipation was high. There was quite a variety in the crowd, from old stagers who would have seen them back in the day to a younger crowd who perhaps picked up on them after the death of Andy brought his work back into the public eye.
I guess it is always a worry when an integral part of a group is missing once they reconvene, but this felt more like an opportunity to celebrate his life and let the songs off their leads at the same time, with the haunted Eastern vibe of “Intro” merging with the twangy, heavily reverbed guitar of “Towtruck”. With four red lights and plenty of dry ice, the group in their sharp suits and nonchalant swagger looked like a dissolute Rat Pack, each member moving in time with the music, already caught up in the atmosphere.
Tablas and guitar explosions enlivened “Theme” with a gorgeous funky electric piano riff, while the harmonica-infused “Edge Six” slowed things down a bit. A little respite for the crowd came before the reggae skank of “Duke Of Earlsfield” whipped them up again. Although there was no vocal interaction with the crowd, the group were constantly engaging, looking out, catching eyes and clearly buoyed and perhaps a little surprised by the warm reception, and you felt they were digging deep, fusing “‘Duke”‘s industrial soundtrack vibe with the Arabic inflections of “Wilmot”. The new age synths and New Order guitar of “Smokebelch (Beatless)” found a moment of reflection, with Jagz pointing to the sky and perhaps communing with their missing comrade, while the Aphex Twin-like smears of “Ballad Of Micky Maguire” found Phil abandoning the guitar for extra electronic textures.
By now the place was bouncing and the temperature increasing, considering how cold it was outside; but onstage everything was cool and tight. My personal favourite, “Clock Factory”, arrived with its Close Encounters synth and sense of creeping dread, the Teutonic electronic beat seemingly unburstable, while “Ano Electro” was deeper and dirtier, the keyboards sparkling effusively over the dank, dark beat. The epic brooding techno of “Still Fighting” caused more dancefloor mayhem and saw them eventually head for the exit, all smiles, waves and bonhomie.
At the end, the members lined up and bowed deeply to the audience, clearly caught up in the adulation offered and showing that after thirty years, they have really matured as an act and brought a whole lot of extra life to some already beloved material. Definitely a night to remember, like a snapshot in time reflected into the future.
-Words: Mr Olivetti-
-Pictures: Barry Davis–
