Last week the world’s number one yacht rock band, Yachtley Crëw, played London for the first time ever. Not “first time in a while.” First time, full stop. UK debut, Seas The Night tour, O2 Academy Islington. And I’m telling you now, it was the most fun I’ve had at a gig all year. I’ve seen a lot of gigs this year.
A yacht rock band in full captain’s regalia should not be this good. You walk in expecting a bit. Twenty minutes in you realize the bit is just the packaging, because underneath the sailor hats and aviators these guys can absolutely play. The gimmick gets you in the door. The songs keep you there for two hours.
If you need receipts, here’s one. Diane Warren, the most decorated pop songwriter alive, nine Billboard number ones, sixteen Oscar nominations, turned out to be a fan. So much of a fan that she offered the band a song, “Pain of Losing You,” which went Top 15 on the Billboard Adult Contemporary chart.
And the names. Oh, the names. Baba Buoy on bass. Tommy Buoy on guitar. Sailor Hawkins on drums. Stoney Shores on keys. Pauly Shores on saxophone. Captain Ian on vocals. Whoever sat in a rehearsal room and workshopped “Sailor Hawkins” deserves a raise.
You forget how great these songs are. That’s the real trick of the whole thing. You spend decades filing this music under “stuff that was on in the background” and then a seven-piece band in nautical uniforms plays Baker Street at full volume and suddenly you’re eight years old again, backseat of your parents’ car, late 70s, dark midwestern suburb, nothing to do but listen to AM radio. That sax riff is arguably the most iconic saxophone moment in recorded music. Careless Whisper is second. Every Huey Lewis and the News song is tied for third.
Speaking of which. They played Boston’s Foreplay INTO Baker Street. A prog rock instrumental welded onto the greatest sax riff of all time. That’s not a cover, that’s fucking engineering, man.
Other highlight: Magic by Pilot. Everyone knows this song. Nobody knows this band. It’s an absolute banger that got hijacked by a cleaning commercial or some shit years ago, and it’s been sitting there since 1974 waiting for a man dressed as a ship’s captain to do it justice.
Then, mid show, the captain’s uniforms disappear and the band re-emerges in full white suits for Danger Zone. A costume change. At a yacht rock show. From naval officers to Top Gun in one transition, like the Village People got promoted. The room lost it.
The setlist was relentless. Ride Like the Wind. What a Fool Believes. Brandy. Maneater. Hold the Line. Reelin’ In the Years. Africa, obviously. The Piña Colada Song, which an entire room of grown adults sang like it was a hymn. And a Michael McDonald / Warren G mashup of I Keep Forgettin’ into Regulate, which is the kind of joke that only works if you can actually pull it off.
Then the encore. Lido Shuffle, sure, lovely, very on brand. And then Crazy Train.
A yacht rock band closing with Ozzy. In captain’s hats. In Islington. On their first ever night in this country.
Some bands read the room. Yachtley Crew commandeered the vessel.
