Review: Du Blonde’s tight 60 minute set, and the infectious joys of touring, at Thekla (2/2/25)

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Newcastle’s Beth Jeans Houghton is an artist, so replete with abilities, that their (preferred pronoun noted) relative underground status highlights just how gifted the human talent pool is. In addition to their status as a singer-songwriter, Jeans Houghton is a comic book artist, owner of record label Daemon T.V, and has contributed video direction and animation for artists such as Red Hot Chili Peppers and Ezra Furman.

Recent album Sniff More Gritty – full of fuzzy, melodic pop-punk – is Jeans Houghton’s most hook laden effort to date. Ronan Keating’s ‘When You Say Nothing At All’ soundtracks the entrance of Jeans Houghton’s six-piece band. The bland commercial-dom feels in stark contrast to their angsty, self-sufficient ethos, but perhaps in keeping with a contradictory nature that tonight has Jeans Houghton – who sometimes appears au naturel – fully embracing their transgender party queen alter ego Du Blonde; the attire of drag-like makeup, missing teeth mouthpiece, platted hair extensions, short denim skirt and fuzzy pink tank top cuts a striking image.

Opener ‘Perfect’ springs to life with a typically spirited chorus, atop a sonically pleasing bed of fizzing guitars. Older song ‘Angel’ nicely builds to a chorus crescendo that features an instant ear-worm riff, courtesy of guitarist Cortney Dixon who shreds beneath an impossibly substantial blonde perm. Jeans Houghton than takes a sip from a can of water but casually laments not opting for the bottle option as the gap toothed mouthpiece apparently causes a stray dribble of H2O.

The atmosphere on stage is one of playful enjoyment throughout. Support act bigfatbig serve as backing band and its clear that an easy bonhomie has formed. Jeans Houghton remarks that the drummer has a curious condition of never sweating but after the infectious sub two-minute punk of ‘Live Wire’, they joke that “We’ve had a breakthrough” in beholding the first sightings of perspiration.

Another strength of tonight’s show is the excellent sound emanating from the stage. bigfatbig already complimented the sound engineer during their set and ‘Solitary Individual’ further reveals the dynamic interacting sonics of two guitars, bass, drums and the three way vocal harmonies that soar during the consistently lively choruses. ‘I’m Glad We Broke Up’ – performed on record with Ezra Furman – is another two minute burst of hooky punk-pop.

A mid-set two song acoustic section is a judicious change of pace, given the slightly emerging sense of samey-ness. Jeans Houghton acknowledges that their usually deep, smoky vocals have been rendered more so through tour fatigue, before a more plaintive version of ‘Coffee Machine.’ The fingerpicked ‘Pelican Canyon’ – within which Jeans Houghton briefly forgets a lyric and resets with a quick “Fuck, hang on” – is a John Prine-esque folk ditty written and performed on record with Samuel Herring of Future Islands.

“You ever had someone gaslight you?” Jeans Houghton asks the crowd. There’s an allusion to past mental health issues and an anecdote about a therapist recommending the writing of a happy song, which turned out to be shit. “Bring back the depression” Jeans Houghton jokes. This is all before the angsty ‘Blame’ wherein the lyrics “Just remember that I am something that you created” sharply depict the personal effects of an abusive relationship.

Sixteen songs flash by in a tight sixty minute set. Achieving such a volume of tunes is certainly helped with the snappy indie rock of ‘Ducky Daffy’ which clocks in at around 75 seconds. “We get faster and faster as we go,” observes Walker before Jeans Houghton compares the stage to a “time warp.” Refreshingly, the formalities of the encore are eschewed as Jeans Houghton confirms that they’ve merely knitted the extra songs into the standard set; “All The Way” sees us in emotive power-ballad territory while ‘Radio Jesus’ appears to be a surprisingly euphoric portrayal of covid isolation.

“I’ve never had so much fun with anyone” Jeans Houghton, referring to the folks of bigfatbig and Dixon, declares toward the end of the evening. And it was a sense of enjoyment that was rather infectious.

Scott Hammond