The ticket said “Transvision Vamp,” but last night’s show was, if we’re being entirely fair, a Wendy James concert. Transvision Vamp haven’t really been a band since they split up in 1992; James is now touring with a band that includes one other member of the original lineup, bass player Dave Parsons.
And so this is the band that played its final date of a tour across Australia and New Zealand. With no new material to promote—James’ fifth solo album came out in 2024, but nothing from it was played—this was a chance to browse James’ back catalogue, with a heavy emphasis on Pop Art and Velveteen, the two albums that secured Transvision Vamp’s reputation.
Trash City, track one on Pop Art, made sense as a set opener. James’ band—she’s assembled a decent group behind here, with Alex Ward on guitar, James Sclavunos drumming, and Matt Millership playing keys, alongside Parsons on bass—took the stage to some applause, but the real cheers were, of course, for Wendy James.
And that’s where this review gets tricky. I last saw Transvision Vamp in 1989, at the International in Manchester. And I have exceptionally fond memories of that show. And I went into last night’s gig with high hopes—Pop Art was playing entirely too loudly in my car on the way to the Powerstation; those songs hold up very, very well—and I came away only somewhat satisfied.
The band were good, but they weren’t brilliant. Ward’s guitar, an instrument that should have been driving the sound, was just that little bit too far down in the mix. Sclavunos is an accomplished drummer, but somehow the music just didn’t feel quite like it had the swing it needed. And then there’s Wendy.
The original Transvision Vamp was built in no small part around the image of Wendy James, and their promo materials to this day rely on the old sex-kitten blonde-bombshell imagery that helped sell the band back when they were genuinely exciting. But behind that image there was a genuinely intriguing voice. James could yelp like Kevin Rowland, she could hit any note you put in front of her, she had range, from buzzsaw to a purr that was ASMR before the phrase was coined.
But that was nearly forty years ago. None of us age that well, let’s be fair, and we need to accept that nobody—nobody—is going to sing at 60 like they did when they did in their early 20s. And this was a truth inescapable last night. James clearly enjoys what she’s doing, and the audience in a not-really-very-full Powerstation were having nearly as good a time as she was. But the voice…it’s just not there any more. And she knows, I suspect. The two yelps that kicked off the record version of Revolution Baby, the band’s first single, were simply absent last night. And as the show progressed, James’ voice become increasingly hoarse.
But, as I’ve said, she was having fun, and so were her audience. With songs like I Want Your Love, or Baby I Don’t Care, it’s hard not to have a good time. But songs like that are a double-edged sword. Pop Art was Transvision’s “here we are, and we’re here for a good time” intro album, and it served its purpose magnificently. Velveteen said “and we can be proper artistes, too,” and again it made its point. And they worked in large part because of the songwriting of Nick Christian Slayer, who’s been out of Wendy James’ orbit since the band split 34 years ago, around the time that their British record company decided against releasing their third album, the curiously-titled Little Magnets Versus The Bubble Of Babble. The record did get a release here in New Zealand, and so when James sang Pressure Times from that album, it got a cheer from the crowd out of all proportion to what it really deserved; it really did remind why MCA were reluctant to let that record out the door.
And, let’s be clear here, James’ solo material is weak. Neither The Impression of Normalcy, saved for an encore in a rather bold move for a show that was, as you’ll recall, badged not as a Wendy James concert but a Transvision Vamp one, nor You’re a Dirtbomb Lester, came close to the joy and exuberance of Landslide of Love or Baby I Don’t Care, or the creative excesses of show-closer Velveteen. But even during slower numbers like Sister Moon, where the shortcomings of James’ voice were most clearly on display, those classic songs from the first two albums reminded us of why Transvision Vamp have such a special place in their fans’ hearts. James might not be the best singer in the world any longer, but she has some fantastic songs to sing, even if she sprinkles in the odd dud. Her voice isn’t all it needs to be any longer, but don’t you dare tell that girl to shut up.