How the Almighty have risen.
Whilst their career might not have quite lived up to their name, The Almighty have always been revered by rock critics and fans - in spite of suffering more than their fair share of criticism.
Derided for switching to a more classical rock sound after their raw and punky 1989 debut 'Blood, Fire & Love' and the Andy Taylor (yep - him out of Duran Duran) produced follow-up 'Soul Destruction', a refocused and reinvigorated Almighty returned to sparkling punk-metal form in 1994 with 'Crank', the most critically acclaimed album of their career.
But just as critics were finally paying them their dues, everything started to slide, and after the relatively mainstream hit of 'Just Add Life' and 2000's darker 'The Almighty', it seemed that the wheels had come off the battle bus and The Almighty were heading for career oblivion. 'Psycho-Narco' was a poor album in comparison to the likes of 'Crank'; bassist Floyd London joined Pete Frieson in the rock wilderness (the lead guitarist had left the band prior to the recording of 'The Almighty') and guitarist/vocalist Ricky Warwick finally decided to go solo. In short, it looked as if the all-loud-all-wild-all-fuckin'-mighty were mighty no more. But then fate played an Ace of Spades.
Reuniting to play benefit gigs for the Leukaemia Research Fund (due to London receiving diagnosis of the disease - now in remission), it seemed that The Almighty were finally contented. Free of contractual constrictions and recording schedules, they were just having a blast playing straight-up-hard-rockin' material live whenever the opportunity presented itself. And present itself it did.
2007 saw the release of compilation album 'Anth'F***in'ology' and the classic line-up of Warwick/Frieson/London/Monroe seized the chance to tour it with two heavily tattooed and sweaty hands.
Although in the past The Almighty used to be big enough to play The Astoria proper, the LA2 (I'm not calling it "The Mean Fiddler" because that's a load of corporate bollocks that doesn't sound half as cool), is the perfect size for rock and metal bands. It's dark, moody and shabby with a pretty small stage. It's also got fucking big amps.
Swathed in black and still looking pretty lean despite the years and tribulations, Warwick and the gang blistered through a career-spanning set-list that is best described as 'Anth'F***in'ology (plus a couple of fan favourites): Live' - and the crowd was loving every single second of it.
All the hits were sweated out as fast as any David Mamet character can string together obscenities - and they sounded far louder and heavier than the album cuts - which was a particularly welcome bonus. Warwick's vocals dripped with malevolence on 'Jonestown Mind' and coupled with the huge sound that blasted from his and Frieson's axes, it sounded just as fresh as it did back in '94.
Other highlights included the riff-machine 'Destroyed', the all-time classic 'All Sussed Out' (even if Warwick did get three horn players on stage to cut in - and I was really hoping he wouldn't), and a particularly frenetic 'Full Force Lovin' Machine'.
Although Frieson was strangely subdued during the set, Warwick was acting like a man possessed - battling frantically with his tigerprint-strapped axe - and screaming the vocals through his (now thankfully regrown) barnet.
Less successful was the inclusion of 'Soul Destruction''s 'Little Lost Sometimes', an acoustic ballad - and filler at best - but at least there was a terrific version of 'Free 'N' Easy' still lingering in the memory to fall back on.
Introducing the band during 'Wild & Wonderful', (which almost blew the stacks of Marshalls into oblivion - and yes - everyone was "fuckin' lovin' it") which he did in a manner particularly reminiscent of Phil Lynott's attempts on 'Live & Dangerous', Warwick also thanked the audience for the twenty years of support - and promised that there was "a lot more shit to come".
Yes the crowd was comprised of predominantly balding, middle-age-spreading men who were trying to organise a circle pit but really couldn't remember how - but the music itself was timeless.
The Almighty were often described as safe, uninspired and anaemic - but putting it all into context twenty years later shows that they were really just all about chuckin' out some heavy riffs, getting fuckin' pissed and having a truckload of fun doing it. They also genuinely appreciate the support they get from the fans - something of rarity in this age of prancing, preening and posturing Pop-Idol pretentiousness. Who wants to criticise them for that?
All-Fuckin'-Mighty indeed.