The Hives have been telling people they’re the best band in the world for 33 years. That seems hard to prove, but it’s undeniable they’re a helluva band. Especially live.
Formed in Sweden by brothers Pelle and Niklas Almqvist and their friends, who shared a love of AC/DC, the Ramones, and punk rock, the band initially called themselves Hives. They thought hives was a deadly, highly contagious disease and liked the idea of spreading through the music world like a plague. When they discovered it was actually just an allergic reaction, they kept the name but added “The,” reasoning that all the best band names were plurals.
The Hives may be cartoonish in their crowing, but they back up that swagger. Every show I’ve seen has been a blizzard of hits, plus songs I don’t know that sound like hits, with frontman Howlin’ Pelle getting an entire stadium to jump on command with his old-timey evangelical intensity, preaching the religion of the Hives. And between songs, he throws out quips that hit harder in a Swedish accent: “When the Hives stop playing, you’re going to feel an intense sadness inside.”
Dressed in matching black-and-white suits, with a songwriting catalog credited to the mysterious Randy Fitzsimmons, whose “death” inspired an entire album, these guys are rock-and-roll jokesters. They’ve been known to hire Hives cover bands for their own post-show parties and even launched a tongue-in-cheek franchise opportunity for cover bands to help meet the apparently insatiable global demand for Hives music.
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