I have an intense dislike of reviewers who describe a band or a live performance via dubious comparisons to other acts. References are often inaccurate and the whole approach can best be described as a convenient cop-out. For those readers that have not come across Stadia in the Paddington Green documentary series, however, providing musical comparisons is a real necessity to bring to life the mighty sonic punch of this five-member outfit.
Stadia begin their set in an angst-ridden energy fervour with rake thin singer, Joss Dudley, cavorting around on the postage stamp sized stage of the Hope & Anchor like a British born Anthony Kiedis possessed. Although his rap infused vocals are barely decipherable through the mouldy PA in this subterranean dungeon-esque venue, the audience knows that he means every word he shouts. With hand gestures punctuating each syllable, Dudley’s sign language is universal anyway. A few lines penetrate the dirge. Beneath the muddy midrange swell that is the H & A’s trademark acoustics, I detect an interesting word salad from Dudley; “gonna fuck you in the face…Tony Blair”. New Labour obviously has its critics in Paddington Green.
On a stage that is too small to accommodate all five members of the band, Stadia deliver a peculiar mixture of musical styles that gels together surprisingly well. Early 80s ska merges with ambient dance and full-on ‘rawk’ in exhaustive loops. Imagine a drunken brawl between the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, The Police, Pop Will Eat Itself, Nirvana, Madness and The Chemical Brothers. No, this is not a strange tape compilation made by Bob Fleming in High Fidelity, this is the sound of Stadia.
Drummer Michael Luciani, an undoubted disciple of Stewart Copeland, trades lead vocals with Dudley throughout the set and adds some much needed melody to Stadia’s full-on assault. His brother, Andrea Luciani, adds an etheral dance element to the group. A ‘self quantising keyboard player’, Andrea Luciani delivers rapid arpeggios normally reserved for MIDI. This is not a two fingered ‘minimalist’ behind the Roland JV Series Keyboard. Bassist Andy Jackson churns out consistently solid bass lines on his headless Status as though it was a ‘Best of the 80s Four String Fraternity Festival’. This is not a bad thing. Has anyone had a close listen to Whigsy’s bass work with Oasis? Need I say more? Forced to take his place on the floor next to the stage, guitarist Dylan Davies possesses a rare gift to find in a plank spanker - the ability to make his rhythm parts groove. Davies, who looks a bit like the guitarist from Skunk Anansie, has a sound and approach in his playing that is a strange hybrid between James Hetfield and Nile Rogers - all on a Noel Gallagher approved ES335 copy.
“Runaway” is the group’s most commercial track of the evening and unquestionably the highlight of the set. Despite obvious references to The Police and early 80s ska, with the refrain to ‘Walking on the Moon’ being tastefully incorporated into the show, Stadia is a quintessentially 1990s rock band with a musical stew that reminds us that we’re at the fag end of the twentieth century. It was good to hear something that is evocative of this era and not a throwback to the 60s or 70s - which still seems to be the industry’s status quo. Will Stadia be Stadium bound? I hope so. The industry needs a severe kick up the backside.
