Review
Review
Fat White Family at Colour Factory 12/12/24
The South London chaos-makers prove why they still need to be seen to be believed.
Walking into Colour Factory and there’s a man on the stage. I’m not entirely sure he should be there. Is he the support act, or just a fan trying his luck? Knowing Fat White Family, it very easily could be the latter. Speaking in an American accent, he shouts phrases that I can’t quite hear, and that don’t make much sense. Something about “the vortex”. Dressed in black leather, boots, and stetson, he’s part cowboy and part cult-leader. He’s playing classic punk and 60’s 7 inches, too. The likes of The Slits, Dead Kennedy’s and Link Wray. Not the usual set up, or sound, for this home of East London clubbing.
I learn that the man on stage, Texas Radio and the Big Beat, was indeed meant to be there. His DJ set ends, and the room is filled with smoke. And we are treated to the intro for AC/DC’s ‘Highway To Hell’ on repeat. Not the song on repeat. Just the opening riff. It’s an exercise even the most ardent AC/DC fans would find hard to endure, although the Fat Whites have made a career out of sonically torturing their own fans, so it should be no surprise – it just seems they’ve started early tonight.
If our ears were already at breaking point, there wasn’t much respite as the band take to the stage. Frontman Lias Saoudi appears, wearing a now signature skin coloured bodysuit. The 360 Counter Vortex, of which this was the second night, sees the Fat Whites, but really Saoudi, embrace his constant inclination to play to (although it’s more like in) the crowd, by performing in the round. And it doesn’t take long. New song ‘The Great Venusian Heatwave’ starts, and almost immediately Saoudi is in. The lights don’t reach into the smoke and the crowd, and the next time he’s visible (from on high at least), he’s created his own mosh pit; marching around and pushing people out of the way.
After another new track (‘Jay Z’s 100th Problem’), it’s time for the first of many fan favourites. “This one’s for Greg Wallace” Saoudi tells us before the band launches into ‘Wet Hot Beef’. It won’t be the last mention of the disgraced presenter this evening; “Justice for Greg” he jokes after ‘Polygamy For The Chief’. At this point, Saoudi is on stage on his knees. Surrounded by wires, set lists and a drum kit, he decides to lie down. A bottle of liquor is passed around by the other members of the band. Saoudi wants to change the setlist then and there. It leads to bickering. Or are they joking? Knowing the infighting that has been a constant in the story of the Fat Whites, I’m still not sure. And I don’t think they are either.
Of course, the frontman wins his battle. He always will – this is his band. So it’s ‘Mark E. Smith’ next as opposed to, well, whatever the others wanted. Saoudi may be winning his battles, but they don’t come without their scars. Nearly 14 years of being a “drug band with a rock and roll problem”, as the frontman’s own memoir quips, will take its toll. “Only the drummer’s in his twenties anymore” he tells us.
Midway through a three-night residency, it seems as if age is catching up to Fat White Family. At one point a woman joins him on stage, uninvited. It’s the sort of opportunity that a previous iteration of the band would’ve leapt at; more chaos, just how they like it. Not this time. Security is duly called to take the interloper away. And when Saoudi tries to clamber back from his off-stage excursions it seems a struggle. The commitment to the cause is clear, the energy certainly isn’t waning but for how much longer? It’s hard to say.
Fat White Family are a band that will wring everything out of themselves in order to perform, and in this intimate setting you get the sense that they were even more compelled to do so (even if they might feel it the next morning). The same was true of the audience, who clattered into each other and contorted themselves into a writhing mess of bodies. If it wasn’t for the smoke, you could probably see the sweat in the room.
“Is anyone else sick of Nick Cave’s bullshit recently?” Saoudi asks us, having moved on from Greg Wallace. There’s audible laughter from the crowd. We’ve all caught our breath, then. “We need to get Nick back on the gear” – if any band could, it would be them. It sets us up for a finale. A frantic and frenetic run of songs that are probably a close approximation of what you’d get with the Australian and the white powder. Even the somewhat slow burn of ‘Fringe Runner’ gets taken up a notch. ‘Feet’ and ‘Work’, the two best songs of the band’s recent foray into a more electronic sound, follow and ramp up both the noise and the pace. But the real high point arrives with that rumbling bassline of ‘Whitest Boy On The Beach’. It’s one last push for both band and audience. “Who’s the weakest link in the chain?”, Saoudi screams, forcing the words out. It’s a question taken very seriously. “Is it I? Is it I?”. No-one’s prepared to admit it that it might be them. Least of all the band. Not yet at least.
Fat White Family are supporting Primal Scream at the Eventim Apollo in April. Find tickets here
