gigfest
Let's have a round-up of the gigs I went to in the last week or so, because hey it passes the time and that.
The Complete Stone Roses - Islington Academy
Having reconciled myself long ago to the fact that I would never get to see the most seminal band from my Uni years play together (one particular Ian Brown quote, responding to how much it would take to reform the Roses - "You could give me Mars and Jupiter and it still wouldn't be enough" - sticks in my mind, not to mention John Squire's "I have no wish to desecrate the memory of the Stone Roses" sculpture-thing), I booked tickets earlier this year for this highly-regarded tribute act instead.
And, y'know, they were alright. The singer has a decent stab at Brown's ape-dancing as well as the bouts of atonal skronking, and the guitarist looked vaguely Squire-like even though the other two looked bog-all like Mani and Reni (not sure the drummer was even black), and there was only one Second Coming era Zep-style wankathon, and they correctly topped and tailed the set with I Wanna Be Adored and I Am The Resurrection, so I can't really complain.
In terms of my live pseudo-Roses experiences this came well above Squire's murdering of Fool's Gold in front several thousand bored REM fans at Old Trafford circa 2002, but failed to reach the brief yet giddy heights of the Brown gig a couple of years later in which he started off with terrific versions of Adored and Made of Stone, which more than made up for the rest of the set consisting of solo stuff, and nearly made up for what seemed like a large percentage of the crowd's relentless desire to sell me some pills and/or weed.
If only I'd caught the previous tour he did where he did large portions of some sets covering Roses songs with the Complete Roses boys as his backing band. Oh well. Last week will have to do.*
Carter USM at Brixton Academy wasn't my idea. I only started properly getting into music in my mid-teens which coincided with the mid-90s, thereby missing Carter's commercial peak by a couple of years. Going into the gig, I was only familiar with approximately four songs - one of which (Do Re Me So Far So Good) I remembered due to it sticking out like a sore thumb on one of the Now albums (Now 22 I believe), and another (Look Mum No Hands) only because it got played in a school music lesson (don't ask).
The only other knowledge with which I was forearmed was that they had an altercation with Pip Schofield at the Poll Winners Party one year, and that Fruit Bat's post-Carter band were named after legendary Uzbek sprint cyclist Djamolladine Abdoujaparov. Oh, and of course that their lyrics contained some godawful puns - like Richard Stilgoe... ON SPEED, as a music journalist would say.
And, y'know, it was alright... etc. The overall experience was very similar to the Pavement gig from last year - a rapturous reception from the hardcore faithful and a long set, but sadly a bit too long for those of us in the small minority of casuals. They looked and sounded in good health though, and it certainly looks like more bands will follow their lead in embarking on nostalgia tours every few years as the income from recorded sales dries up. Being transported to the early 90s for an evening was kinda fun - it just would've been even better had I been there first time around.
Loney, Dear - St Pancras Old Church
A beardy, portly Swedish bloke, a guitar, some FX pedals, a random lady accompanying him, and some folksy love songs. In a church. Behind St Pancras station. If this doesn't sound promising, think again. The man (Emil Svanängen to his friends) has a lovely line in banter and in audience participation for starters, exactly what's required in an intimate (and slightly odd) venue. Plus his use of said pedals and his ability to record rhythm tracks on the fly - with his feet I might add - meant that the songs felt as though they were being constructed before our very ears.
He also has a very sweet singing voice, which often breaks down into primal, high-pitched cries - of desire, longing, whatever, it doesn't really matter. Some things aren't best expressed by words. He came across as a guy very much moved by what he was performing - not something you can say for a great many musicians.
The only disappointing aspect was the evening's theme - why did the announced "blue night" only really extend to the shirt and the songs played before the set? He admitted to not having a clue - it was apparently just a marketing ploy by the record label. Bless.
Finally we come to Wild Beasts, one of my favourite British bands of the last few years. Note how I make this assertion as if I'm actually familiar with every single band on the scene. That's journalism, that is. Having said that, it's an assertion based on my love for their second album Two Dancers. This year's Smother felt a little too mellow and safe in comparison, and has not turned out to be the grower that I originally predicted.
I was hoping for a good show at the Shepherd's Bush Empire though - especially considering last time I saw them I was in the throes of post-wisdom tooth extraction pain and couldn't fully enjoy myself. They didn't let me down, for the most part. The band have settled into a carefully-crafted indie/funk niche and really do stand apart from the competition. Many of the propulsive rhythms on Two Dancers are unusual and intriguing - sadly this complexity can become a petard by which the band are hoisted, The Fun Powder Plot and This Is Our Lot both ending up much too slow here. I was also stuck behind quite a tall bloke who kept bobbing his head back and forth and restricting my view, which admittedly wasn't the band's fault (although they could make their tunes less bobbable, goddammit).
Other than that, it's hard to moan. This was the most purely enjoyable gig I've been to for a while - the venue felt the right size, they are very good musicians despite the above (most bands would kill to have a singer as good as Tom Fleming, and he's not even the main Beasts vocalist), and I always get more out of gigs when I'm familiar with the songs beforehand. Jolly good show, chaps.
*I do of course have tickets for Heaton Park next summer, don't worry. But if it turns out to be a disaster then it'll be erased from my memory and the above will still hold.
The Complete Stone Roses - Islington Academy
Having reconciled myself long ago to the fact that I would never get to see the most seminal band from my Uni years play together (one particular Ian Brown quote, responding to how much it would take to reform the Roses - "You could give me Mars and Jupiter and it still wouldn't be enough" - sticks in my mind, not to mention John Squire's "I have no wish to desecrate the memory of the Stone Roses" sculpture-thing), I booked tickets earlier this year for this highly-regarded tribute act instead.
And, y'know, they were alright. The singer has a decent stab at Brown's ape-dancing as well as the bouts of atonal skronking, and the guitarist looked vaguely Squire-like even though the other two looked bog-all like Mani and Reni (not sure the drummer was even black), and there was only one Second Coming era Zep-style wankathon, and they correctly topped and tailed the set with I Wanna Be Adored and I Am The Resurrection, so I can't really complain.
In terms of my live pseudo-Roses experiences this came well above Squire's murdering of Fool's Gold in front several thousand bored REM fans at Old Trafford circa 2002, but failed to reach the brief yet giddy heights of the Brown gig a couple of years later in which he started off with terrific versions of Adored and Made of Stone, which more than made up for the rest of the set consisting of solo stuff, and nearly made up for what seemed like a large percentage of the crowd's relentless desire to sell me some pills and/or weed.
If only I'd caught the previous tour he did where he did large portions of some sets covering Roses songs with the Complete Roses boys as his backing band. Oh well. Last week will have to do.*
Carter USM at Brixton Academy wasn't my idea. I only started properly getting into music in my mid-teens which coincided with the mid-90s, thereby missing Carter's commercial peak by a couple of years. Going into the gig, I was only familiar with approximately four songs - one of which (Do Re Me So Far So Good) I remembered due to it sticking out like a sore thumb on one of the Now albums (Now 22 I believe), and another (Look Mum No Hands) only because it got played in a school music lesson (don't ask).
The only other knowledge with which I was forearmed was that they had an altercation with Pip Schofield at the Poll Winners Party one year, and that Fruit Bat's post-Carter band were named after legendary Uzbek sprint cyclist Djamolladine Abdoujaparov. Oh, and of course that their lyrics contained some godawful puns - like Richard Stilgoe... ON SPEED, as a music journalist would say.
And, y'know, it was alright... etc. The overall experience was very similar to the Pavement gig from last year - a rapturous reception from the hardcore faithful and a long set, but sadly a bit too long for those of us in the small minority of casuals. They looked and sounded in good health though, and it certainly looks like more bands will follow their lead in embarking on nostalgia tours every few years as the income from recorded sales dries up. Being transported to the early 90s for an evening was kinda fun - it just would've been even better had I been there first time around.
Loney, Dear - St Pancras Old Church
A beardy, portly Swedish bloke, a guitar, some FX pedals, a random lady accompanying him, and some folksy love songs. In a church. Behind St Pancras station. If this doesn't sound promising, think again. The man (Emil Svanängen to his friends) has a lovely line in banter and in audience participation for starters, exactly what's required in an intimate (and slightly odd) venue. Plus his use of said pedals and his ability to record rhythm tracks on the fly - with his feet I might add - meant that the songs felt as though they were being constructed before our very ears.
He also has a very sweet singing voice, which often breaks down into primal, high-pitched cries - of desire, longing, whatever, it doesn't really matter. Some things aren't best expressed by words. He came across as a guy very much moved by what he was performing - not something you can say for a great many musicians.
The only disappointing aspect was the evening's theme - why did the announced "blue night" only really extend to the shirt and the songs played before the set? He admitted to not having a clue - it was apparently just a marketing ploy by the record label. Bless.
Finally we come to Wild Beasts, one of my favourite British bands of the last few years. Note how I make this assertion as if I'm actually familiar with every single band on the scene. That's journalism, that is. Having said that, it's an assertion based on my love for their second album Two Dancers. This year's Smother felt a little too mellow and safe in comparison, and has not turned out to be the grower that I originally predicted.
I was hoping for a good show at the Shepherd's Bush Empire though - especially considering last time I saw them I was in the throes of post-wisdom tooth extraction pain and couldn't fully enjoy myself. They didn't let me down, for the most part. The band have settled into a carefully-crafted indie/funk niche and really do stand apart from the competition. Many of the propulsive rhythms on Two Dancers are unusual and intriguing - sadly this complexity can become a petard by which the band are hoisted, The Fun Powder Plot and This Is Our Lot both ending up much too slow here. I was also stuck behind quite a tall bloke who kept bobbing his head back and forth and restricting my view, which admittedly wasn't the band's fault (although they could make their tunes less bobbable, goddammit).
Other than that, it's hard to moan. This was the most purely enjoyable gig I've been to for a while - the venue felt the right size, they are very good musicians despite the above (most bands would kill to have a singer as good as Tom Fleming, and he's not even the main Beasts vocalist), and I always get more out of gigs when I'm familiar with the songs beforehand. Jolly good show, chaps.
*I do of course have tickets for Heaton Park next summer, don't worry. But if it turns out to be a disaster then it'll be erased from my memory and the above will still hold.
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