Nickelback: Utilita Arena, Birmingham – Live Review

Nickelback | Lottery winners
Birmingham Utility Arena
Thursday, May 23, 2024

Many maligned Canadians bring their colossal, radio-friendly meltdown to Birmingham, hosting Oasis covers, tales of magic mushrooms and a love of British profanity. Sam Lambeth yells “Are we having fun yet?”

“Opening act Lottery winners” already feels like an outdated phrase. Because this band won’t be spending much more time flipping the curtains. They produced one of the albums in 2023 in Anxiety Replacement Therapy and tonight their smooth, catchy and unflinchingly honest music resonates with a crowd looking forward to hot riffs and tales of double whiskeys and questionable women. It was unexpected, but it shows the talent and craftsmanship that these adorable upstarts can conjure up.

About a quarter of the way NickelbackBirmingham show, hitherto quiet bassist Mike Kroeger has something to say. “I love British slang and I heard a great one recently,” he reveals. A little horrified, but eager to hear more, his brother Chad—he of the long locks—hands him the microphone. Those expecting Only Fools-style slang might be in for a shock. “Damn you bastard,” Mike yelled. As you’d expect, the crowd cheers the loudest of the night.

And after that, the potty-mouthed proclamations keep coming – the C-word comes up so delightfully and regularly, latecomers think they’ve mistakenly booked tickets to see Ricky Gervais. Nickelback giggles with girlish glee. And it’s oddly fitting that they revel in such profanity, because their band name has become almost a curse word for the better part of two decades.

Let’s face it, Phil Collins and Jedward were critical darlings compared to the Alberta rockers. By the time they reached nuclear levels of notoriety in the late nineties, Nickelback had become a pop music punchline – police stations had threatened to play their music as punishment, campaigns were sought to prevent them from entering the UK and the early years of social media were devoted to an endless barrage of YouTube memes and parodies. The abuse has been so endless and excruciating that to see them laugh tonight is oddly heartwarming, like witnessing falsely accused convicts finally acquitted of their crimes.

Well, you know the expression “you either die the hero or you live long enough to become the villain”? Tonight the reverse is true. For Nickelback, they did something no one expected and music snobs feared – they survived. And as the frankly lazy elitism that positioned them as the pioneers of bad taste fades into obscurity, they’re unleashed and able to take in the sights, akin to a long-distance marathoner finally crossing the line. As Chad himself shouts, “they’ve been trying to cancel us for 25 years and they still haven’t succeeded.”

It can be easy to see where derision occurs. After all, Nickelback makes heartfelt, earnest, soulful rock music, taking the jagged elements of grunge and mashing them up with denim-clad country, anvil-heavy nu-metal and ’80s-indebted arena balladry . But not many do it better. Played at the beginning of the film, Savin’ Me and Far Away are brooding, wrought anthems that expand Kroeger’s emotional and musical palette, while the pop song This Afternoon is the perfect soundtrack for a gang of bros, some brewskis and a barbecue.

And like their recorded material, a ruthless precision and perfection flows through the songs, from guitarist Ryan Peake’s soaring harmonies, Kroeger’s anguished growl and bombastic riffs. But on the evidence of polished anthem Gotta Be Somebody and introspective stomper Someday, it’s the hearty music that whips the Brummie-filled crowd into a frenzy.

If the music can sometimes seem mass-produced, as entertainers, the Canucks do a great job of making the show feel unique. Kroeger and the band are natural storytellers, peppering the set with good jokes and humorous bits. They’re not afraid to poke fun at themselves—though, again, that could be PTSD from the critical bloodbaths—and they’re having a great time observing their fervent fan base.

“This is what I look like at Magic Mushrooms,” Kroeger chuckles when he spots an attendee wearing a Chad face mask (it’s as disturbing as it sounds). They select a passionate fan, Dan, to join them on stage to sing the cynical and parodic uberhit, Rockstar. And they’re kind to The Lottery Winners, bringing them back for a faithful rendition of Oasis’ Don’t Look Back In Anger that has everyone in the room bawling. Yeah, who had Nickelback do Oasis on the bingo cards? And who dares to tell Noel?

A fan reveals it’s her 40th Nickelback show, the kind of admission that — in the real world — would probably get her sectioned. Perhaps realizing this himself, Kroeger thoughtfully accepts a hug, though he has the awkward embrace of a father meeting his illegitimate daughter for the first time.

Stripped down to acoustic guitars, Kroeger acknowledges the ubiquitous online japery his hit Photograph has enjoyed before urging the crowd to sing along. A tender lament for growing up in a small town, it straddles the line between country and rock with wonderful aplomb. They then move on to the song that propelled them in the first place, the fierce giant that is This Is How You Remind Me, a bitter post-grunge pill that has rightly remained a radio staple.

It might be an acquired taste, but tonight these outcasts of pop music laugh in the face of their critics with good comedy, a highly polished set of irresistible earworms and – perhaps naturally for such an impatient band – a T-shirt cannon. So it’s been a quarter of a century, but Nickelback is no longer the vanguard of the bland and bland, but a determined and thriving rock outfit. What’s next? Does Sting’s Lute Album Believable?

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Nickelback are on Facebook and X.

All words by Sam Lambeth. Sam is a journalist and musician. More of his work for Louder Than War is available in his archive. His music can be found on Spotify.

All photos by Paul Reynolds. He can be found on Instagram.