When the Hives broke through in the early 2000s with their breakneck take on garage punk, it should have come as a surprise to no one. The band wore matching black and white suits, wrote great tunes, had more bravado than a Stone in '72 and stood out from the droves of exhausting, uninspired garage revival clones thanks to their stage presence and uncontrollable, utterly incomparable frontman, Howlin' Pelle Almqvist. And yet, few could have predicted that this tense, frenzied act would have the energy — and knees — required to stay relevant in 2024.
The band have now been around for over 30 years, having started in Fagersta, Sweden in 1993, and last year, with six releases under their sweaty, tailored belts — including 2023's breathless return to form, The Death of Randy Fitzsimmons — the band embarked on a tour of smaller venues, all of which sold out in milliseconds (including their Toronto stop at Lee's Palace). At Monday's equally sold-out show at History, these plucky Swedes gave what for, easily proving why audiences, 20+ years later, still want to hear the Hives declare guerre nucleaire.
Before the show, some righteous maximum R&B shuffled through the venue, hard driving stuff from all across the temporal spectrum. People nodded along and even danced to the pre-show jams, clearly a crowd ready to party (even if it was a Monday). "Blitzkrieg Bop" played. A clear sign that a good night was about to unfold.
Bad Nerves, a punky power pop band from Essex, opened the show, and they were great, if a bit repetitive. The tight drumming snapped in all the right places, the bass bopped and rumbled, and the guitars menacingly sliced through the plumes of smoke with a mischievous half-smile. Frontman Bobby Nerves has a great voice, nasally and full of vibrant, snotty gusto, and they have some great moves (jumps for everyone!), but the band's look, much like its sound, has a calculated, throwback quality that borders on derivative.
Nerves' red arm band was little more than an eye rolling distraction and from the back, it was impossible to tell what was on it, but we've seen it all before, my man: let's leave it alone and in '77. The band has great energy and writes some damn good stuff, sweet and catchy and more than a little acerbic. Carcinogenic bubblegum that's easy to chew but tends to lose its flavour pretty quickly. Let's hope that's not the case here. They play the part and do it well, and since we don't have much in the way of the New York Dolls these days, Bad Nerves'll do just fine. Absolutely check 'em out.
Backlit by an enormous, glowing HIVES sign, the main attraction stepped onto the stage to Chopin's "Funeral March" (R.I.P., Mr. Fitzsimmons), as well as the requisite hero's welcome, exploding right out of the gates with the one-two KO of "Bogus Operandi" and "Main Offender," a pair of worthy catalysts for some aggressive fan interaction and response. Throughout the night, whether glowing red or white, the sign acted as a brilliant reminder of who we were all here to see.
During the first two songs, Almqwist high kicked and scream-sang himself into a sweaty, rock induced anti-stupor, while the band's prickly, chunky chords, propulsive drive and energetic-everything matched Almqwist's every frenetic move. This only invigorated the crowd, who danced, shouted, and fist pumped along unapologetically.
Almqwist, a true performer extraordinaire, blew kisses at the audience while strutting across the stage and among his ravenous fans, swinging the mic around (obviously) while the crowd ate it up (obviously!). He was funny and quick-witted, and his stage banter was cheekily confrontational and obnoxious in the absolute best possible way. Comment of the night: someone in the crowd asks an inaudible question. "My favourite colour?" Almqwist replies, looking down at his jacket. "What does it look like: NONE!" Genius. Live Hives is THE Hives.
At one point, Almqwist called the band's live show magical but fucking confusing. Then he talked about Pangea. Then he lost his train of thought. Then he told us to "dance fast to the next one." Then they played the excellent non-album single "Good Samaritan." They then froze (literally: the song stopped, and they didn't move a well-coifed inch) and indulged in an extended cheer from the audience. They then crashed into the outro. All of this happened in a time span of about 3-and-half minutes? Maybe? Their stagehands were dressed in ninja Halloween costumes and played tambourine and maracas; the lights were wild throughout; and neither the band nor the audience slowed down for even a breath of a second (ok, maybe, like, once or twice. It's hard work, a Hives show!) It bordered on absurdist, and it was, of course, exceptional.
During "Hate to Say I Told You So," the entire audience sang the bass "solo" part, and the moment the song ended, Almqwist swung the mic, caught it and the band immediately slammed into "Trapdoor Solution." Pinpoint precision transition. He encouraged nudging for increased crowd participation, and halfway through reviewed his own show. He was pretty damn pleased with himself and the band.
Every aspect of a Hives show is a performance: the posturing, the pauses, the crowd interaction, all of it feels singular even though you know, in your heart of hearts, that it's not. But that's ok! It still makes you feel great, like this performance is one of a kind and all for you. Maybe the moves and jokes are recycled, but who gives a shit when there's this much electricity flowing through their every frantic jitter.
The band leaned heavily on material from The Death of Randy Fitzsimmons, but since it is their first album in over a decade, they're permitted to bask in the glory of their new compositions. These songs sat comfortably with the older material, with standouts "Trapdoor Solution," "Bogus Operandi," "Smoke & Mirrors" and the slithery "Stick Up" outshining even some of the older tracks. Sadly, there was no "Outsmarted" or "A.K.A. I-D-I-O-T." Sigh, what can you do?
During the encore, people finally started crowdsurfing, Almqwist walked through the audience and VIP section, and set closer "Tick Tick Boom" inspired pogo-ing and dancing throughout the venue. Explosive? You betta believe it! At one point, while introducing the band, he made them stop playing and let everyone in the audience introduce themselves by saying their respective names out loud. Hi! Clearly, we're best friends now. Almqwist even signed an autograph for someone, then split the audience down the middle and made a path for himself. He greeted people, walked amongst them and played some games. He was stretching the show, but that's okay, it's part of the fun. He parted the hip seas, and when the song kicked in for the finale, he sprinted down the faux-walkway, got to the partition at the front of the stage, and finished the song from there, among his fans. Good work, star!
After about 75 sweaty, deafening minutes — encore included — it was all over. In, out, done and done. The Hives know how to deliver, and unsurprisingly, they did. It was blown out and fun and so full of life, and it made two things very clear: 1) the Hives categorically refuse to rest on their past laurels, and 2) they ain't leaving any time soon. Whew. Skål indeed, motherfuckers. Skål indeed.