I first saw The Charlatans at the Edinburgh Playhouse in June 1991. Almost thirty-five years later, the setting is the Corn Exchange and the distance between then and now feels a lot less.
They open with Kingdom of Ours. Tim Burgess appears in a white long-sleeve top and white jeans. Under his floppy bowl cut, he looks almost exactly the same as he did all those years ago. The Charlatans have been through a lot since then and remain one of the great survivors of the Manchester scene.
We Are Love follows with its circular riff and clean, insistent chorus. It’s classic Charlatans in the most literal sense; they build on repetition, groove and a refusal to overstate. North Country Boy causes a ripple effect. Fans move forward instinctively, pints still in hand. One enthusiastic super fan lets go as if it’s the last night on earth, chatting to fellow fans and adding to the good-natured, unforced, communal feel of the show.
Then soon darkens the edges. Martin Blunt’s bass line was one of the heaviest and most internal of the northern indie scene during the early 90s. The Charlatans were always a band of gradients, the light, feel-good indie rock of Just When You’re Thinking Things Over contrasting with the shade of Then. The Stones’ influence became more apparent later into the 90s with the addition of Mark Collins on guitar, not an imitative player but one who enjoys the looseness and country-tinged inflections of Keith Richards’ style.
The Only One I Know, like all defining singles, carries weight, but the set doesn’t depend on it. Tonight, for the fans, it’s just one of many great songs. How High closes the main set on similar terms. The encore extends the evening, and we ease back in with Here Comes a Soul Saver. Around the edges, the audience tells its own story. Maroon tracksuits and Adidas trainers, the colours of Heart of Midlothian FC fans, are anticipating a season-defining outcome.
Football and indie music have typically shared this space, from terraces to pubs and codes of dress. The Charlatans have always existed in that middle ground between subculture and mainstream success, too embedded in northern indie folklore to be cult, but also too restless to be just another heritage act. Thirty-five years on, they don’t revisit their past; they keep it moving.
The Charlatans, Edinburgh Corn Exchange
