Gig review: Deap Vally farewell tour at Rescue Rooms

I first caught Deap Vally playing in a tiny pub in Brighton back in 2011. Barefoot and with a haircut reminiscent of Stevie Nicks, guitarist and vocalist Lindsey Troy had the kind of powerful, raspy vocals that could give Robert Plant a run for his money, while drummer Julie Edwards was a mesmerising blur of arms, drumsticks and big red curls. I was smitten, and despite being early in their career (side fact that I adore - the two met in a knitting class) it was clear they meant business. I’d only caught them once since, so seeing that they were playing their final tour and coming to Rescue Rooms was a chance I couldn’t miss.

Bringing blisteringly loud rolling riffs and foot stomping drums, the Deap Vally sound is classic heavy blues rock n roll, and the noise they manage to make as just a duo is impressive. There's something about watching a two person band that leaves me wondering if there's a secret backing track, a bass player in the wings, or some sort of superhuman abilities going on. Of course there’s no third element - this is just two women on stage who are exceedingly good at making a lovely racket.

After a set by support Dosiopath (Julie from Deap Vally and Solon Bixler of Thirty Seconds to Mars and Great Northern), who brought waves of super cool, guitar driven psychedelia, the duo arrived on stage wearing what seemed to be fringed boxing gowns. The palpable welcome from the audience suggested most people in the crowd had also been waiting some years to see them again.

Launching straight from End of the World to Baby Can I Hell to Walk of Shame, I soon realised they were playing their 2013 album Sistronix in full, an album which is utterly devoid of filler tracks. Having left their record label Island in 2016, Lindsey explained that they had rerecorded the album themselves (à la ‘Taylor’s versions’) and were now working independently - a clever tactic that seems to be more and more popular for artists wanting to have autonomy over their career direction - and finances. 

The set flew by in a relentless haze of distortion and kick drums - loud, scuzzy and beat perfect throughout. The absolute force of Lindsey’s guitar reminded me of the noise that men believe they’re making when they rev their car engines, but sonically pleasing, much less arrogant, and actually something a room of people asked for.

Throughout the show I couldn’t help but wonder how things might have changed for two women starting out in (what I assume to be) their mid twenties, to now being mothers in their late thirties with over a decade of experience under their belts. I wish it weren’t necessary to constantly allude to the fact that Deap Vally are women, but with two friends writing female-centric songs such as Smile More and Make My Own Money, which have been on repeat for me over the past thirteen years, it was at this final gig that I realised how their portrayal of the female experience has meant a lot to me.

Towards the end of night, during an enjoyably long encore, Lindsey gave shout outs to the people involved in the final tour. “And thank you to the person who is with us on tour looking after our kids - my mom. Yes this is what a working mom looks like!”

Of course, nothing lasts forever, and life changes and responsibilities will sometimes give an expiry date to a band, but I’m glad to have been able to catch Deap Vally one more time, and I’m very happy that they existed as part of my soundtrack to life.

Deap Vally performed at Rescue Rooms on 4th June 2024.

@deapvally