I'm trying to keep my newspaper dry....

a-ha @ Birmingham NIA, 2nd November 2009

"Scoundrel Days" was a-ha's second album, and although it features "Cry Wolf" and sold well worldwide, it will forever be in the shadow of its multi-platinum selling predecessor "Hunting High and Low", which featured the timeless classics "The Sun Always Shines on TV", the title track and -- of course -- the era-defining "Take On Me" (is there any other keyboard riff that better defines the music of the 1980s?). "Scoundrel Days" does, however, hold the distinction of being one of the very first albums that I ever owned, when I was given a copy on cassette for my birthday, along with a copy of "Silk & Steel" by Five Star. As a result, I have something of a soft-spot for a-ha. Like everyone else, I thought they had broken up years ago until I received a copy of their 2005 album "Analogue". I'm not sure what I was expecting, exactly, but it was really good. It turns out that they'd never actually broken up at all, and it was something of a shock then, in the weeks immediately following the top 5 UK chart placing of their most recent album, "Foot of the Mountain", that the band announced that they were calling it a day. As the BBC reported in October this year:

"We've literally lived the ultimate boy's adventure tale," the group, which formed 25 years ago, said. The trio added that the split would allow them to pursue "other meaningful aspects of life, be it humanitarian work, politics, or whatever else".
"We are retiring as a band, not as individuals," the band reassured fans in their statement. "Change is always difficult and it is easy to get set in one's ways. Now it is time to move on."

When the chance arose (thanks to LB) to see the band playing one of their only three UK dates this year then, I jumped at the chance.

As the day dawned though, the sheer inconvenience of a hack out along the M42 to the National Indoor Arena in Birmingham made the whole trip seem somewhat less appealing. I was tired after a weekend in London, I hadn't even heard the new album, and all I really wanted to do was to go home and get an early night. Did I really like a-ha? How much of their stuff did I actually know? Apart from "Scoundrel Days", which I haven't listened to in twenty years, the only album I have is a Greatest Hits. What if they just played a set to promote their new album? And how good was a support act called Donkeyboy really likely to be?

Well, as it turns out, I needn't have worried. Donkeyboy do labour under a name so bad that it makes the audience laugh when they say it, but their music isn't half bad. They're one of Norway's top bands, apparently, and the influence of tonight's headliners is clear in their sparse, widescreen sound, but they're far, far better than I was expecting and well worth getting to the venue early for. And, of course, tonight's crowd have all made it to the venue early. It's all seated, and even though we arrive at a little after half-seven and well before the support take to the stage, the majority of the crowd are already in their seats and waiting with a quiet, respectful buzz of anticipation. As you might expect for a band whose heyday was in the mid-1980s, then audience are all of a certain age, and many are clutching programmes and posters. It is not, I think it's fair to say, quite the same thing as a Rock City crowd. I'm feeling tired and start to doze in my seat when the house lights drop and a-ha come on.

Oh my.

They open with "The Sun Always Shines on TV", and I find myself strangely overcome with emotion. This is a song that reminds me of being 12 years old, and the band performing it live in front of my 35 year old eyes both look and sound fantastic: Morten's voice and cheekbones both remain absurdly high. They sound awesome and the crowd respond accordingly. The set is very accessible too: there are songs that I don't recognise, but there is also much to enjoy. Cry Wolf, The Blood that Moves the Body, Hunting High & Low, Stay on These Roads (which sounds amazing), You Are The One, Manhattan Skyline (with Morten using a megaphone for the distorted parts), Crying In the Rain, Foot of the Mountain, Summer Moved On, Analogue...... They're not the most interactive of bands, with only Magne really talking to the audience, but they sound fantastic. At one point the huge screen behind the band shows footage of a rising swell in the ocean, and for me this is how a-ha sound: they're widescreen and windswept and Harket's voice is sometimes as pure and lonely as a gull calling across an expanse of ocean; they're open and desolate like tundra..... they're utterly defined by their success in the 80s, but even their oldest and most famous songs do not sound in the least bit dated. They finish with "The Living Daylights" - the fifth Bond theme I have seen being performed by the original artist, and -- of course -- with "Take on Me". The Bond theme is especially good: it's both definable a Bond theme whilst remaining entirely an a-ha song, with an air of melancholy and loneliness underneath the orchestral bombast. "Take on Me" is, well, "Take on Me". 50 year old Morten Harket still hits all of the high notes, Magne stabs out the most famous keyboard riff of the 80s, and the whole thing is received joyously. It's the perfect end, the only end, to a really surprisingly good night.

I hear they're planning a farewell tour. I think I'll go and see them again.

Out of the blue, a really enjoyable evening. How could I ever have doubted it would be?

Verdict: 9 / 10

...not an ordinary son

UNGDOMSKULEN @ The Royal (Derby), 24th September 2009

It's not often that you see a support band that really catches the eye. Well, to be honest, it's not that often that I turn up early enough to a gig to catch much of the support act at all, but.... Norwegian three-piece, Ungdomskulen, providing support for the Young Knives at the Rescue Rooms back in 2007, didn't so much grab my attention, as seize it from me, wrestle it to the ground and pummel it into submission. They were fantastic. They were loud, they had great songs, a nice line in self-deprecating onstage banter and they were clearly all brilliant musicians. The Young Knives were good that night, playing material from their about-to-be-released second album, but by their own admission, they were always going to be struggling to out-do their own warm-up band.
"You pick the support act, and they turn out to be the best band in the world.”

I was so impressed that, for the first time in my gig-going life, I was moved to make my way over to the merchandising table and to get myself a CD. To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was ever going to be able to find an Ungdomskulen CD anywhere outside of Norway, so I thought I'd better seize the opportunity whilst I could. The record doesn't quite capture the majesty of their live act, but it's good enough and an excellent reminder of a happy night.

So when Mike suggested a trip out to Derby to go and check out Ungdomskulen again, I jumped at the chance. Actually, the main reason for heading over to the Derby badlands was the chance to meet Gordon, but the lure of the band was a pretty strong incentive. In spite of living barely 10 miles away from the place, I can count the number of times I've been to Derby on the fingers of one hand (five. I couldn't say how many the locals have...) I've been there on work business a few times, and I've been to a couple of gigs. I'm sure it's a nice enough place, but when you live in Nottingham, there has to be a greater incentive than "nice enough" to go and hang out somewhere. In searching for the Royal, Sarah and I actually walked through a couple of small streets that looked to have some really nice bars and restaurants. Perhaps Derby wasn't such a bad place? Hmm. Soon enough, we turned the corner to find ourselves on a big street with loads of bus stops and taxi ranks, and were confronted by the not-terribly edifying sight of a young man in a tracksuit shouting at the backs of a small gaggle of girls walking away from him:
"Yeah. You're nice. And you're friend's nice too. Not the one next to you, but the one after that."
As mating strategies go, I shouldn't have thought that's the most effective, but I'm not from Derby, so.....

Sarah and I found ourselves a nice, unprepossessing old-school fast food joint and dined in style up chips in naan bread and a nice greasy cheeseburger, and then we went out to meet up with Mike, gain entry to the venue and meet up with Gordon.

I think it's Fresher's Week in Derby, and the Royal appeared to be running some sort of club night for the new intake. Freshers, clearly marked by the wristbands they were all wearing, were free, but we old-timers were admitted to see the bands for the princely sum of £2. The support acts in the main bar made conversation impossible, but we soon managed to find a pew in the large, chandeliered chill out bar where some DJs were busy entertaining themselves (if no one else) with their mixing skills in an almost deserted room. We met Gordon, we drank Carlsberg (who appear to have a monopoly on the joint) and we chatted as the white boys in their over-sized baseball caps went about their business. At one point, I could have sworn I saw one of the guys take off his massive baseball cap to reveal a smaller one underneath, but I could perhaps have imagined that. They were having fun, anyway, and I was enjoying the company too much to care for their assortment of bleeps and nurdles.




The main room was disappointingly empty when Ungdomskulen first appeared onstage, but soon filled to the point of respectability when they began to play. They've not changed much since 2007: the singer's facial hair has grown out magnificently, the bassist (who is actually playing a six-stringed baritone guitar) still has a luxuriant moustache and the drummer... well, the drummer looks like he's walked into the wrong band. Happily, something else that hasn't changed much is their thrilling live act. They have technical difficulties during their first song when the microphone doesn't work, but this band are more than happy to jam until they are resolved. How much would you trust a soundman who needs pictures of the positions the sliders should be in on the sound-desk? Ungdomskulen live are a different proposition to the Ungdomskulen on record: live they are heavier and louder, but also much looser and improvisational. They're good on record, but they really make sense live. Like White Denim, another trio I've seen recently, they are driven on by a sensational drummer, but all seem to be fantastic musicians in their own right, comfortable enough with each other and with their material to let it stretch out and breathe. Some bands - most bands - like to work strictly within the constraints of the song as it was originally written and recorded. Not Ungdomskulen. On record, their songs are frequently very long and feature prog-rock like breaks and sudden changes of pace and direction, all clearly very carefully thought through and structured whilst also still sounding spontaneous. Live, they add an extra dash of that spontaneity, and they also aren't afraid of throwing themselves into their songs with real gust. They look unlikely, but they are a real treat.

They've got a new album out, but much of the material they play tonight in their short seeming 45 minute set is taken from their last album, "Cry-Baby": Ordinary Son, Glory Hole, Modern Drummer and the superb rock wig-out of Spartacus. They're superb. Mike might keep his legendary pointy-fingers to himself tonight, but the drummer still sees him dancing and tells him so at the end of the set. No wonder, even a confirmed non-dancer like me can hardly keep still during these songs. The crowd might be small, but they're enthusiastic, even if the glamorously dolled up girls turning up for the club night that follows the band seem mightily confused and soon leave at the sight and sound of this remarkable band (even if the cow-bells on Modern Drummer convince one or two of them to stay until the singing starts!). The earnest, introverted-looking bespectacled indie-kids in front of me nod their approval at what they hear, anyway.... truly a band they can proudly file alongside all those other awkward bands in their record collections.

A great night and a fantastic band.... hard to believe that you can see an act this good for £2 (or free, if you're a fresher... which sadly I haven't been since the frighteningly distant 1992).

Great to meet Gordon too. I hope he enjoyed the gig as much as I did. In fact, for the second-time in my gig-going life, I was inspired to get a CD. Drummer Øyvind was kind enough to throw in a button badge for free too, so I was well pleased. A good night.

Verdict: 8 / 10

the hollowest of halos is no halo at all....

White Lies / Girls Aloud / Jay-Z / Coldplay @ Wembley Stadium, 18th September 2009

I think the last gig I attended at Wembley Stadium was Guns N'Roses way back in August 1991. It was shortly before the "Use Your Illusion" albums were released, and as I recall, the band kept us waiting for something like 2 1/2 hours after their scheduled onstage time before deigning to make an appearance. Small wonder that it was Izzy Stradlin's last gig with the band before heading off to form the immortal Ju Ju Hounds. The bill at Wembley that night included Nine Inch Nails and Skid Row.

Not only did this gig have a rather different line up, but the old stadium itself has undergone something of a facelift since then. The now-demolished Wembley Towers might be lamented, but surely very few people miss much about the cavernous old stadium itself: everything about this new version seems to be an improvement, from the elegant arch to the way that the -- mostly under cover -- seats now hug up close to the edge of the pitch since the removal of the athletics track. The end result is a venue that feels less like a stadium and more like a relatively intimate arena gig..... it's never going to be as up-close-and-personal a venue as somewhere like the Rescue Rooms, but these things are relative, after all. At a stadium gig, I'll take all of the intimacy I can get, thanks.



White Lies are a band that I've wanted to see for a little while. Their debut album was one that LB said I would like, and sure enough, when I bought it, it was indeed an album that I liked. Superficially, I suppose they sound as though they have a lot in common with bands like Interpol and Editors... mainly meaning that they have a dark, dense rock sound and singer Harry McVeigh has a deep, almost Ian Curtis-like singing voice. Actually, I don't think they're an especially depressing band at all, with lyrical themes often speaking of escape and love. Here they were granted something like 30 minutes to make an impression on Coldplay's crowd, and perhaps sensibly they opted to open with their two most famous songs: "Farewell to the Fairground" and "To Lose My Life". I thought they sounded pretty good. McVeigh has a slightly alarming bulging vein on his neck when he's singing, but otherwise I thought they did the best with the time slot they had. Oddly, I thought they actually sounded slightly like Ultravox live, but I still saw enough to think that I should make the effort to see them playing their own show at Rock City later in the year. You've also got to love a band who sign off what is probably their biggest ever gig by saying "We've been White Lies and here's a song called 'Death'".

I liked them.



When Coldplay first announced these dates, the reason we chose to attend the Friday date rather than the Saturday was because Girls Aloud were initially only playing the first date, and Jay-Z was only playing the second. Later on, long after the tickets had been purchased, it was announced that they would both be playing both nights.... We'd chosen Friday not only through a desire to avoid Jay-Z, but also because C. was quite keen to see the Girls in action. Various people at work have found it amusing that I would be watching a band like Girls Aloud in action, but actually I was quite curious to see them. Other than at somewhere like Glastonbury, when else was I likely to see a band as "pop" as this?

Naturally, the guys in the office were keen to know which of the band was my favourite... and the honest answer is I don't have one. In the fallout of Beatles-gate, I'd already established that I could name the band. Hell, I even have their greatest hits on my iPod.... but a favourite? Nah. That said, I did have to take one of my colleagues to task when he told me that I surely couldn't fancy "the ginger one or the fat one". Now, I'm pretty sure that even Nicola herself wouldn't vehemently deny being ginger.... but which one of those girls is supposedly the fat one? I think he meant Kimberley, but to call her fat is just ridiculous.

Anyway.

So what were they like? Well, I thought they were fun but a touch under-rehearsed. One or two of their vocals were a bit off-key (especially on "I'll Stand By You"). I also thought that whoever dressed and choreographed their backing dancers wants shooting. What on earth were they were thinking of when they dressed them in fluorescent hi-top trainers and luminous dungarees and had them prancing around like children's TV presenters?? I also thought, and I know that this sounds ridiculous, that their songs sounded wafer thin and bubblegum light. I know they're a pop band, but I thought that I quite liked songs like "Biology".... and then I listened to it live, and realised that I actually only like about ten seconds of it. It's true that they repeat that ten second snippet several times during the song, but the rest is pretty ordinary. Yes, songs like "Love Machine" and "The Promise" are great, but I was disappointed by the rest.

Still, they were entertaining... and perhaps even a touch nervous to be playing in such a big venue in front of a rock band's audience. *



Jay-Z. Ah, Jay-Z. I saw him at Glastonbury in 2008 and surprised myself by enjoying his set very much. I'm not a massive fan of the genre, but he was witty and entertaining, and the whole gig had been turned into something of an EVENT by all that stupid controversy about a rapper headlining Glastonbury. He slayed it.... but I felt very little need to see him perform live again, and took the opportunity to look for a pint, something to eat and a chance to take the weight off my feet before the headliners came on.

As I sat at the far end of the stadium from the stage, I marvelled at Jay-Z's performance: all the songs sound as though they've had a backing track supplied by Linkin Park, and Jay's act seems to consist of allowing that backing track to play, watching his supporting rapper and exhorting the crowd to "bounce! bounce!" with an accompanying wave of his arm. I'm sure he's very good at what he does... but I just don't get it.

...although "99 Problems" still sounds brilliant. I can only imagine what Beyonce thinks of the lyrics, but it's a great record.

He seemed to go down very well with the, by now very excitable, crowd, but I certainly don't need to see him a third time to tell you that he's not my cup of tea.

Each to their own.



Which brings us to the headliners.....

I've seen Coldplay several times now. In fact, I actually saw them on this same tour, some nine months and 150 shows ago in December last year at the NIA in Birmingham.... and that's the problem. Much though I like Coldplay, and I think it's been pretty well-documented here that I do very much like Coldplay, when their setlist is at least 90% the same as a show you've already seen -- including the little off-the-cuff bits of Satie that Chris Martin throws in when at the piano, then your enjoyment is going to be limited... at least a little bit.

Don't get me wrong, I thought that Coldplay were good.... it's just that I could almost reprint my review from December word for word.

"They played a strong set tonight, bookended by the different versions of "Life in Technicolour". They have now got enough material that they are able to play singles like "Violet Hill", "Clocks", "Speed of Sound", "Fix You", "In My Place" and "Yellow" very early on in the set. "Fix You" in particular, a song that I've never quite liked, seeing it as being too much like Coldplay in excelsis, is embraced by the crowd and becomes the night's first - but not last - mass communal singalong"

Yup.

"The new material sounded pretty good. "Lost" (thankfully without Jay-Z), "Cemeteries of London" and "42" all sound good, and "Viva La Vida" is a showstopper with a vocal harmony section at the end seems tailor made for a crowd to roar along to"

Well, we did get Jay-Z this time around, mucking about with Martin and trying to put him off the song, but the rest is still true.

"The band themselves are far from static: they do a little segment at the end of one of the walkways, where they emphasise the strength of their material by playing songs as good as "Talk" and "God Put A Smile on Your Face" in a slightly offhand, casual way. Later on in the show, the band also made their way along the side of the arena to a space right at the very back, from where they play another few songs."

That medley actually annoys me even more now: both are great songs in their own right, but they're tossed away in an almost jokey manner, and I find myself wishing that the band didn't play them at all rather than teasing us like this. We're in a stadium now, so the band can't practically make their way to a section at the back, but they do make their way to a small stage near the sound-desk, where they are inexplicably joined by Simon Pegg, who stands around a lot pretending to play the harmonica and is pretty much entirely a spare part throughout. His presence is entirely superfluous, and I'm not sure how he wasn't ashamed to stand there. Mind you, the cover of "Billy Jean" that we're treated to in this little segment is actually surprisingly good, with the vocals suiting Chris Martin (and drummer Will's) falsettos. They've probably been playing it since Jackson's death in June, but this is the first time I've heard them do it and they actually do a pretty good job of it. Credit where credit is due.

"The band finish the show with "The Scientist", an absolutely barnstorming version of "Lovers in Japan" where phosphorescent ticker-tape rains from the ceiling, and leave us with "Life in Technicolour II". It's a good show. The new songs sound great, the old songs are received by the enthusiastic crowd as old friends. The band seem to have a good time, with Chris Martin being his usual puppy-ish, bouncy, cheerful self. We all have a good old sing-song. It's a good show. No question. So why is it that I feel slightly distanced from the whole thing?"

It's not ticker-tape, I discovered, they are paper butterflies... and in spite of the fact that I've seen the effect before, it actually works fantastically well in the stadium, with butterflies drifting down onto the crowd long after the band have actually left the stage.....

It's a good show, dammit. I like Coldplay and I like the fact that, in stark contrast to a band like U2, their approach to a massive stadium gig like this is really simple and stripped down. The songs are good and it's really hard not to warm to a band led by a singer as eager-to-please as Chris Martin. The rest of the band are also doing so much more than making up the numbers, something made entirely evident at the end when the band link arms for their traditional bow to the crowd before leaving the stage for the last time.

But.... I've seen the show before. That's not Coldplay's fault, for sure. Neither is it the band's fault that I have a slightly snobbish dislike for a stadium crowd. It's all part of the territory when attending a big gig like this, but I can't help but notice that we're surrounded by people who are probably attending their only gig of the year. It's okay to be excited, really it is. I don't expect everyone to keep a cool reserve, after all, and I expect a certain amount of pushing and shoving in a big crowd like this.... but this was ridiculous. No, I don't have a great deal of sympathy for you looking for your friends down at the front ten minutes before the headliners come on. Not when you've obviously just popped out for a round, anyway. That said, nor do I have a great deal of sympathy for the guy just in front of me who seemed to be getting more and more stressed with each person who pushed past him. No one likes being pushed and shoved, but if you want to be reasonably close to the band, then that's what you have to put up with. If you don't like big crowds, don't push yourself up to the front. As for the guy who decided to spark up a massive cigar......

Perhaps I'm getting too old for all this.

Verdict: This is a tough one. I enjoyed the day as a whole; I was happy to spend the day at Wembley with my friends and I thought all the bands were good in their own ways... but... I wasn't especially inspired by Coldplay as I'd seen them perform essentially the same set a few months before. They were good, but....

6.5 / 10

I've seen Coldplay perform better, but I reckon it's ultimately harsh to mark them down too far for a decent performance just because I've seen them performing more or less the same set before. Ultimately though, it was a good day but not a great gig.

---

* for the record, and if absolutely forced to choose, it's Sarah. There's something about her froideur and the fact that where the others are girls, she's a woman..... but like I say, I don't have a favourite.

evil don't look like anything....

--
Okkervil River @ Rescue Rooms, 10th September 2009

A band that name themselves after a short story by Russian author Tatyana Tolstaya can only be a barrel of laughs, right? Right? Well, I first heard of Okkervil River when Mike included "Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe" on my 2007 Shuffleathon CD. It's a great track, and although I liked it immediately, it's one of those songs that seems to have got better with every listen. I was intrigued enough to go out and buy the album, "The Stage Names". And....well.... it's okay but I'd already got the standout track. It's probably one of those albums that I need to give more time to breathe, but it just hasn't grabbed me enough to get much airplay. Still, I was disappointed to miss the band last time they were in town (I was at a gig somewhere else on the same night, if memory serves me correctly), and was keen to get grab my chance to see them live when I saw they were playing the Rescue Rooms this time around.

I very nearly forgot, too. Ninety minutes of football, and my plans for a long leisurely shower and a lazy evening were ambushed by a text from Sarah asking if I'd bought a ticket in the end. Shit. The gig. Somewhere in the back of my mind (and in the front of my diary) I knew that I was supposed to be attending this gig, but somewhere along the way I'd managed to forget. Nevermind, I still had enough time to grab a bite to eat and to head into town to meet up with Sarah and Mike in the RR bar - which was already filling up nicely with earnest, bearded types.

The gig? Well, perhaps I should say that there were an awful lot of people there who seemed to know the band's material really, really well and who really enjoyed themselves. I don't know the band's material all that well, and I found them, and singer Will Sheff in particular, to be overly earnest and the material live sounds more country than on record. At one point, Sheff approached the microphone to tell us about the pressure he felt to think up witty rejoinders to members of the crowd who shouted things at him from the darkness in front of the stage. "It's not my job to think up witty rejoinders!" he cried. No, but it is your job to entertain me, and frankly I wish you'd start. I was not grabbed. In spite of their country sound, when the keyboardist at the back grabbed a trumpet, I was oddly reminded of James fronted by a lesser singer, albeit one with a good deal more hair. It was a comparison that made me think how much I liked James, and my mind began to wander to which album I would dig out tomorrow. Not really a good sign for Okkervil River's hold on my attention, eh?

To be fair, things looked up when one of the keyboard players picked up a guitar and they began to play much more muscular material, including a decent version of "Life Is Not A Movie Or Maybe" (still far-and-away their best song). I even began to enjoy a few of the slower songs, some of which sent parts of the crowd into raptures (why do people shout out requests at bands? Isn't that what setlists are for? And if you're shouting for one of their best known songs, really... what's the point?). Perhaps the band had always been good and I was just warming up? Perhaps they're the kind of band that I would only really enjoy live with a slightly more than casual knowledge of their material?

Hmm. Even then, I suspect they'd still be overly earnest.

I'll have to give that album another listen, but they didn't do very much for me live... although, to be fair, clearly they did for a decent proportion of the audience. Still, I haven't been to a gig for a couple of months now, so it's always good to get out of the house, right?

Verdict: 5 / 10

forget you're in the world....

White Denim @ Bodega Social Club, 2nd July 2009

White Denim's first album is a fantastic blast of raw, basic rock music that sounded even better live: wilder and louder. When I saw them last summer, both of the guitarists played facing into the drummer and taking their lead from him as they improvised and jammed their way around their songs, drawing a relatively short album out into a reasonably full set. They were absolutely brilliant. I've only listened to it a couple of times so far, but the band's second album, "Fits", seems to be slightly different: the loose, garage-style rock is still there, but there's also an unexpected folky influence too, with one or two of the tracks sounding oddly like Devendra Banhart. A grower, I think, but not anywhere near as raw and visceral as their first effort.

Live, however, they remain a awesome proposition - apparently they still haven't found a way of bottling that thunder and putting it onto their records. The "Why Don't We Do It In The Road' sound is still there, but it seems to have been augmented now with a touch of heavier, Led Zeppelin type 70s rock influences. What's not to like about that? I bumped into an old colleague of mine on the way in, a lovely chap who must be in his late 40s. He gestured to the stage and asked if I was here to see the next big thing. Um, I was here to see the next big thing twelve months ago, actually. Get with the programme, grandad.

As we entered the venue, I had noticed that the two tickets I had were numbered #2 and #3. Together with the White Denim t-shirt I was wearing that I'd bought at last year's gig, I was a touch worried that I might easily appear to be something of an uber-fan. I needn't have worried: the band also seem to have acquired some fairly hardcore fans in the twelve months. The audience was quite mixed, with a wide range of ages from hoary old rockers to glammed up girls in vest tops. What really caught my eye though was a guy who looked uncannily like Will Ferrell as Tank in "Old School", complete with sleeveless t-shirt and a rather apeish gait. He was accompanied by a number of friends, including one with flowing long hair and a very full beard. They were really into the band, throwing themselves around with gay abandon and sharing manly high fives and chest bumps when the band played a song they particularly liked. At one point, the guy with the beard actually managed, during "IEIEI", to do a spot of crowd surfing, and as he looked a touch grubby, it was very entertaining watching the crowd desperately trying to pass him back to his friends....

The band were brilliant. Last time round, they paused between songs to tell us that they were from Austin, Texas. This time around, they just played for an hour solid, moving fluidly from song to song. The only pause came when the drummer looked out into the crowd with a big grin, and said something like: "We played here last time, and you're still really cool." Why, thank you. You're not so bad yourself. Old stuff and new stuff was blended together pretty seamlessly, and although there were one or two slower numbers, I certainly didn't hear any Devendra Banhart influences in there. They rocked.



Joshua Block is - for my money anyway - the best drummer in the world. You know how some drummers absolutely surround themselves with drums and gongs and stuff? Well, Block makes do with a tiny kit with the absolute bare minimum of equipment, and he absolutely rules. In fact, perhaps it's one of those unwritten rules that the more drums a drummer has, the less of a drummer he actually is. I know drummers are supposed to provide the heartbeat of a band, but I've never seen one who actually leads before. He's sensational. Both James Petralli on guitar and Steve Terebecki look to Block for their lead on almost every song. Unlike last time, they don't seem to actually face into him and make eye-contact quite so much, but they still clearly look to him to provide the lead. The songs themselves are actually quite rhythically interesting (and cymbal heavy), something you discover when you try to tap your foot to the beat, so perhaps it's only natural that they should be quite so driven to follow their drummer's lead. Even so, he's an absolute joy to watch, constantly moving behind the drumkit, sometimes standing up and moving away as he continues to play. He's brilliant, and well worth the £8 entry fee on his own.

I know it's a completely different kettle of fish to watch a band in such an intimate venue compared to watching a band in a field, but I think I enjoyed this gig more than almost anything I saw at Glastonbury last week. I'm not convinced that White Denim are going to be world-beaters, but they remain a wonderfully vital live act. It's somehow incredibly life-affirming to watch three guys from Texas make such a glorious racket whilst playing with massive grins on their faces. They stopped playing after about an hour because, so Block told us, they'd run out of songs. They should definitely write some more.......

Great band. Great gig. I bought another t-shirt. What higher accolade is there?

Verdict: 9 / 10

king for a thursday afternoon....

Maximo Park @ Rock City, 20th May 2009

I feel a strange kind of kinship with Maximo Park. This feeling has absolutely nothing to do with their music, although their spiky, wordy indie is right up my musical street, and has everything to do with the fact that I feel that we are connected. This is no abstract connection: this is a very real connection. Ready? Guitarist Duncan Lloyd is from Derby and was best man at a colleague of mine's brother's wedding. Yeah. We're pretty much family. This colleague actually recommended that I go and see the band as soon as she heard I was going to the Glastonbury Festival in 2005. I hadn't heard of the band, but I took her recommendation seriously enough that I felt mildly guilty that the floods meant that the trip down to the John Peel stage would have been unfeasibly difficult and I didn't bother. I bought the band's debut album immediately upon my return and then kicked myself that I hadn't seen them when I had the chance. In the end, I had to wait until April 2007 before I saw them perform live. They were pretty good, but not fantastic, although "Our Earthly Pleasures" went on to be my favourite album of that year.

The band released their third album, "Quicken the Heart", a couple of weeks ago but, to be honest, I found it to be distinctly underwhelming. Perhaps it was time for the band to try to move their sound on, but the first couple of listens revealed a slightly murky sounding effort with the guitars well down the mix and the keyboards well up. Never mind. I wasn't giving up on them easily, and I was really hoping that the songs would somehow spring into life and make perfect sense once I heard them live.

For once, I actually turned up at the venue early.... not as early as the long line of kids I'd seen when I walked past on the way to grab some dinner, queuing up outside Rock City waiting for doors, but early for me and in plenty of time to watch the support. I'd heard good things about Bombay Bicycle Club and decided to give them a whirl. Well, what can I say? They're obscenely young, they sound a little bit like generic early 90s indie in general and like Hefner in particular, and their guitarist looks like Ron Weasley. Well, one of the Weasley clan, anyway. They were okay, I suppose, but I didn't hear anything special.

The old lags started to fill the place up before the main act took to the stage, but the crowd was still a pretty healthy mix of young and old, girls and boys. I was actually really looking forward to this one.

Hmm.

This was a real curate's egg of a gig. The first half of the set was loaded with some absolute classics: the band burst onto stage to "Graffiti" and then proceeded to mix up songs from their first two albums with tracks from the new album. It worked pretty well, and songs like "Wraithlike" and "Cloud of Mystery" sounded far better live than they do on record, with much more guitar, and with the increasingly suspiciously be-hatted Paul Smith throwing himself around the stage like a lunatic, gurning at the crowd. He's something of a strange frontman, I think: he writes some often quite thoughtful lyrics, but he's also something of a dynamo onstage. I'm sure he's not everyone's cup of tea, and perhaps some of his posturing can be a bit tiresome, but whilst the rest of the band are pretty static, he adds a lot of energy to the proceedings, and his enthusiasm tends to transmit out into the crowd. They have some brilliant songs too: "Books From Boxes", "Our Velocity", "Going Missing", "The Night I Lost My Head" and - of course - "Apply Some Pressure". The new songs initially fitted in quite well, but the quality and pace of the set sagged quite badly towards the end. Current single, "The Kids Are Sick Again", is okay, I suppose, but some of the new stuff is just not up to standard. Take "Let's Get Clinical": For a lyricist as talented and articulate as Paul Smith, this is just lazy:

"I'd like to map your body out
Inch by inch
North to south
And I'm free for circumnavigation"

Is that the best he could come up with? It's a song that tries to be sassy and sexy, but is simply a bass-heavy plod with uninspiring lyrics. And what about this from "The Penultimate Clinch":

"But it's like dismantling
A decommissioned spacecraft.
Some parts you can't destroy."

eh?

I realise that they're trying to do something a little bit different, and to broaden out their musical palate (let's be honest, great song though it is, "Our Velocity" is essentially a retread of "Apply Some Pressure", isn't it?), but it's disappointing all the same.

On the whole, it's a decent gig. The high points are pretty high, and they're an interesting band that I really like. It's just a real shame that tonight's set emphasises some of the weaker new material, especially when played in close proximity to real belters like "Our Velocity" and "Apply Some Pressure". Still, they are rapturously received by the crowd, and the band seem to be riding the crest of a wave at the moment, held aloft by some prominent TV slots, radio airplay and some high-profile gigs (they're opening Glastonbury on the Thursday night). Good luck to them, it's always nice to see dear personal friends of mine (ahem) finding some success.

Highlight of the night? Undoubtedly the deliriously happy fan in the red t-shirt on the balcony, obvliviously basking in a spotlight from the stagelights and throwing himself unselfconsciously into a routine that involved booming out the lyrics, over-emoting with his hands and the occasional spot of air-drumming. At one point, I swear that most of the crowd were looking at him rather than at the band. He was brilliant and, I suspect, quite drunk.

So. Overall, a mixed night. I thought the band sounded pretty good, and that most of the old material and a decent slice of the new songs are really good. It's just a shame that some of the newer stuff is noticeably weaker, and that this rather takes the wind out of the band's sails. I'll give them another chance at Glastonbury I think, and I'll see whether another few weeks of living with the new album give it a chance to take root.

Verdict: 7 / 10.

Mike's review of this gig can be found here. (Kaiser Chiefs? They're nothing like the Kaiser Chiefs, man!)

--

I'm away for a few days now, making a fuss of C. over her birthday, but be sure to enjoy your long weekend. Mine will most likely be soundtracked by the superb new Manic Street Preachers album, and hopefully there will be a bit of sun down by the Loire and some wine up from the cellar....

raised on a diet of broken biscuits...

-
Spex Fest @ Bodega Social, 17th May 2009

What better way of whiling away a dreary, rainy Sunday evening than by attending a marathon showcase for some up-and-coming American indie bands? Well, that's what was on offer at the Social yesterday, anyway, and as the Evening Post's intrepid reviewer was good enough to offer me his 'plus one', and there was nothing much else happening, how could I refuse?

The show officially started at 17:30, but as it was due to finish after midnight, we decided to give the first couple of bands a miss, and timed our arrival for the start of the set by the Icy Demons. The Social is pretty small venue, with a capacity of around about 200, but it still didn't seem like a sell out to me. I suppose the nature of a night like this, with so many bands on the bill over such an extended period of time, it's only natural that there's going to be a lot of to-ing and fro-ing between the venue and the downstairs bar, where food is served and the music was being played at a volume slightly more conducive to conversation. Still, the audience that there was seemed to be enthusiastic enough, even if they did appear to be on average at least 15 years younger than me. The gits.

The idea of the night was to showcase some fairly experimental US indie bands, and this seems to attract a particular kind of person. In the nicest way possible, many of them had the air of the misfit about them: there were a lot of chunky, out-sized glasses; cheap, brightly coloured sunglasses; blocky haircuts; pointy shoes; plenty of tweed; pointy brogues; MC Hammer trousers (seriously) and I also saw a guy who could not have been older than 25 years old with a huge, full ginger beard. All seemed slightly awkward in their skins, but happy enough to make a statement with their hair and their clothes, and to dance around awkwardly but happily to some often quite unapproachably awkward indie. Good luck to them. Lots of them were sensible enough to be wearing earplugs too - far more of them than I have ever seen at a gig before. Perhaps they're hoping to avoid the tinnitus that affects most of us older gig-goers. Pah. Total silence is overrated, you know....



Icy Demons were up first, for us anyway, and my goodness what a lucky bag of randomness. The lead singer is called Griffin Rodriguez - a splendid name in its own right, you'd think, but he prefers to go by the stage name of Blue Hawaii. He plays what looks like an electric cello and leads his band through a bewildering array of musical styles that encompasses jazz, prog, a bit of light rapping, a touch of opera, dub..... you name an influence, and it's in there somewhere. I found them a little bit too much for my tastes, and I thought they lacked melody, but it was delivered skillfully and enthusiastically, and in Pow Pow, they have an absolutely splendid drummer, worth the price of entry alone.



Next up were Rainbow Arabia, who play their African-influenced beats on vintage Lebanese synths, apparently. Does the origin of the synth have an impact on the sound? Perhaps it does, as I was initially very unsure about the duo's sound, but after a few minutes, and once they hit their stride, they were hypnotically good. I was quite taken by the keyboardist's cloth cap / moustache combo, but it was the sheer style of his companion's guitar work and echoey vocals that stole the show for me. I've no idea how a band from LA ends up sounding like they grew up in a souk, but somehow it worked.



Times New Viking are the kind of band that make me think of Ben from Silent Words: they're a trio, with the childlike keyboards being comprehensively drowned out by the thrashy drums and guitars. Their lo-fi approach was certainly a change of pace, anyway. I was stood next to the soundboard for the duration of the set, and I was heartily amused to see a sketch, provided by the band, showing how they wanted their gear to be set up. Next to the picture of a guitar plugged into an amp was a little arrow with the word "LOUD" written all in capitals. That sums them up, really. At one point, the guitarist played the guitar refrain from "Smells Like Teen Spirit", and at a stroke reminded me that what made Nirvana great (and bands like the Pixies) was that, for all that they buried their songs in feedback and in shouting, fundamentally they understood the importance of melody. Times New Viking? Less so.



Last, but not least, were Telepathe ... a pair of sweet-looking girls who surrounded themselves with a fearsome wall of electronic noise that almost drowned them out entirely. Interesting in small doses, I suppose, and threatening in the way that the last Portishead album was, but over the course of even a short set, far too much to take in. Or perhaps, as it was now gone midnight, it was simply past my bedtime?

Perhaps none of the bands were really entirely my cup of tea, but it was an interesting evening, nonetheless. The kids certainly seemed to enjoy themselves, anyway.

Verdict: 6 / 10

Mike's review of this gig can be found here.

think of me when you're coming down....

Doves @ Nottingham Rock City, 5th May 2009

Doves have been around for a while. Whilst it's true that they only technically formed in 1996 and released their first album in 1998, in their previous incarnation as the dance band Sub Sub, they released their very first single, "Space Face", as far back in 1991. I know he looks a little careworn, very much from the same mould as his birdwatching companion Guy Garvey, but I think that bassist and singer Jimi Goodwin is actually looking alright for his 38 years. Twin brothers Jez and Andy Williams also both look pretty well-preserved for their 39 years. Regardless of their ages though, Doves are one of those bands that actually sound like they've been around the block. There's a maturity to their sound, as well as a certain considered dolefulness and resignation that is surely borne of hard won experience. They have a calm, still stage presence too, with none of the band being particularly prone to bouncing around, focusing instead upon the precision of their playing. Onstage, Doves seem almost stately, each band member totally in control of what they're doing and comfortable with where they're going.

As you might expect for a band who have had two number one albums in the UK (as well as two nominations for the Mercury Music Prize so far out of their four albums), Rock City is pretty busy tonight, in spite of the distinctly Arena-like £18 a ticket price. The touts are out in force at the front of the building, where they seem to have some sort of pragmatic understanding with the bouncers that allows them in to make use of the facilities when required. The audience is probably exactly what you might expect, too: there's no beer chucking in the venue tonight as this is (spiritually, at least) an older, wiser crowd. They might have some nifty films projected onto the screen behind them, but Doves are a band that don't really need any gimmicks. It's all about the music. What else do you need?

Before the gig, I made a point of listening to both of the Doves albums that I own (The Last Broadcast and Some Cities). I was a little surprised by quite how good both of them sounded, to be honest, with The Last Broadcast in particular sounding absolutely superb (even if listening to the albums made me realise quite how much their music is used by TV companies as backing tracks). They sounded so good, in fact, that I found myself wondering why on earth I hadn't listened to them more often. I've seen them several times live too, and they've been great each time, although I've only ever seen them supporting someone else or appearing at festivals.... they're not a band that I have ever paid to see, a streak that continues tonight by virtue of being the Evening Post reviewer's "plus one" for the evening. They're a band that I like, a band that I admire, but they're not a band that I love. I liked what I'd heard of the new album, so I was really looking forward to the gig: was this going to be the moment that Doves really worked their way into my musical affections?

In a word: no.

Everything was set up beautifully: we had a good spot, the sound was good, the crowd were up for it, the band have some fantastic songs and were playing them brilliantly..... but something just didn't click for me. Perhaps it's that I don't know the songs well enough, but although I thought that the band were very good, I found it hard to get especially involved with what was going on around me. The band were clearly enjoying themselves, but they don't really give a great deal out to the crowd, and their enjoyment seemed manifest itself more as a quiet satisfaction than in any particular need to rouse the crowd. To be fair, they were being rapturously received by the majority of the audience, so perhaps they were doing all they needed to do. The songs are good, but - to my ears, anyway - they all seem to be in a very similar key, and after a while, it becomes hard to tell them apart. Goodwin has a lovely, mournful, soulful voice, and he often swaps lead vocal duties with guitarist Jez Williams and, on one occasion, with drummer Andy Williams. Their voices are all different, and Jez Williams even sings one song in a falsetto, yet the overall effect is that the songs still started to blend together in my mind. If their new album is a great stylistic stride forwards, as some critics have hailed it, then I certainly couldn't hear any great difference in their live set.

That's not to say that I didn't enjoy the gig, because I did. "Pounding" and "There Goes the Fear" were highlights, of course, but the real treat was saved for the very end of the set, after the encore had finished and the microphones had been switched off, when Goodwin came back on the stage, insisted everything was turned back on and then dedicated one final song to "Nottingham's ravers"...... and the band launched into "Space Face", that very first Sub Sub single from way back in 1991. It sounded brilliant.

Perhaps it's me, but I wasn't quite sold. A really good gig will pick you up and sweep you off your feet and take you somewhere else, but my feet stayed resolutely planted to the (slightly sticky) dancefloor all night. Good band. Admirable band. Decent gig. I might yet buy the new record. But for me, at least, something is still missing. Elbow, a band to whom Doves will inevitably be compared and with whom they share much spiritual ground, exude an easy warmth from the stage and are thus easy to love. Doves are cooler and lack some of that easy charm. That shouldn't - and doesn't - affect the quality of their music, but it does make them harder to love....

Good, but not great.

Verdict: 7 / 10

Mike's interview with Jez Williams can be found here, and his review of this gig is here.

you're a big boy now, so let's not talk about growth...

Snow Patrol @ Nottingham Arena, 12th March 2009

I think I've said before how quite how much the mood and demeanour of a band can affect your enjoyment of a gig: if they're smiling, interacting with the crowd and generally looking as though they're enjoying themselves, then I find that their enjoyment is somehow broadcast out to the crowd. The reverse is also true, and if a band is clearly going through the motions, then I find that this can transfer across into the audience too, and you really have to be up for a gig to really enjoy it when the band themselves clearly are not. I suppose it's a statement of the obvious to say that the reverse is also true, and that the mood of an audience can sometimes lift a band up to even greater heights. Most people really seemed to enjoy Snow Patrol in the Arena last night: it was a big crowd and, like many arena crowds, they looked like the sort of people -- with the best will in the world -- who don't go out to a great deal of gigs and were absolutely determined to make the best of it. Snow Patrol being the band that they are, there were also lots and lots of couples in the audience too. They had a blast, and Gary Lightbody and the band really seemed to feed off their enthusiasm. They're not a cool band, and I was not very surprised to find out when I got to work this morning that the gig had also been attended by my boss, one of our programme managers and by my director. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but it was that kind of a gig.

As I frequently say here, I'm not a massive fan of arena gigs. The size of the venue generally precludes intimacy, the sound is often poor and the crowds are inevitably different to those found in smaller venues. The Metallica gig the other day served to remind me of how good gigs like these can be, though, and I've given Snow Patrol a 10/10 gig review in the past (the only one I've ever awarded, actually), so I should really have been hoping for the best from the evening.

Unfortunately, I was in a filthy mood. I've had a bit of a week, both at work and beyond, which had culminated in me receiving a miscued shot full in the face at football about an hour before the gig. A sore nose, a headache and a full imprint of my teeth on the inside of my cheek was never really going to help put me in the right frame of mind for the show. Sure enough, shortly before the band came on, there was a little display on the backdrop showing the other cities on this tour, appearing one-by-one, with the little slogan "All these places feel like home" on the bottom. It's one of Snow Patrol's song lyrics, of course. The screen then faded, to be replaced with a message saying that tonight was Nottingham..... the crowd went wild, but I thought it was awfully cheesy and made a mental note to deduct a mark before the band had even taken to the stage. Yup, I was in a bad mood.

Snow Patrol came on and began to play. The set was a mix of material from their new album, "A Hundred Million Suns", and from their last two albums, "Final Straw" and "Eyes Open". As usual, they didn't play anything from their first two albums, but because most of that stuff isn't anywhere near as good, that was no surprise either. They sounded okay and seemed perky enough, with Lightbody in particular bouncing around with his usual wide-eyed enthusiasm.... but they just weren't doing it for me. Something seemed to be missing. They've been playing arenas for a while now, so it would be wrong to say that they're not by nature an arena band, but for me they seemed to be going through the motions. As a band, I think they've really got some fantastic songs. "Run" was the start of something really special for this band, and -- along with "Chasing Cars" -- is probably the song that sums them up best: they're all about heart-on-sleeve declarations of love and bruised, heartfelt declarations. Lightbody is not as articulate a song-writer as Elbow's Guy Garvey, but he's very much from the same school of thought and, like Garvey, seems the kind of man who works best when he is in love. "Final Straw" was their breakthough, and although "Eyes Open" seems, on the face of it, to be more of the same, actually it's an even better album, with stronger, deeper songs. The new album, sadly, is different. The band are still operating in the same emotional landscape, but they don't have the same strength of material to fall back on. "Crack the Shutters" has been somewhat optimistically tagged as the new "Chasing Cars", but really it's nothing of the sort. Far better are songs like "If There's A Rocket Tie Me To It" or "Take Back the City", where the band take a step away from the ballads and flex their musical muscles a little bit. But the ballads are Snow Patrol's trademark and their livelihood: they need songs that can be used on "Grey's Anatomy" and that's what Lightbody has gone for. For me it doesn't work, and neither does the live show.

Good songs are needlessly thrown away: "Run" is done as a solo acoustic number early in the set, although perhaps he's sick of hearing the Leona Lewis version and is keen to move on. "Chasing Cars" is played almost at a whisper for several minutes mid-set, presumably to allow the crowd to take up the slack, before the band come back full blast for the last chorus. It doesn't work, and two of the band's trump cards are tossed aside. I don't know how long the band have been on tour, but Lightbody is fluffing lyrics all night (and gleefully admitting as much to the crowd), there's also quite a lot of giggling. I'm sure they're not meaning to laugh at us, but we've paid more than £30 to be here tonight, and I think we have a right to expect a band to be a little more professional. The encore, when it comes, is terribly misjudged, with about 20 minutes dedicated to "The Lightning Strike", the final song on the new album, and three separate pieces of music glued together. It drags, and no amount of fancy animation on the screen can take away from that fact. They finish with "Open Your Eyes", but it's a terrible anti-climax, and for perhaps the first time ever, I sit in the interminable queue of idiots in the car park wondering why the hell I stayed to the end.

They're a good band. I know they're a good band. I don't care that they're not cool - I think they've got some brilliant songs and I think that Lightbody is a very endearing front man. I just think that they've got it wrong and we should be expecting more from them than this. The majority of the crowd lapped it up, of course, and my colleagues seemed surprised when I expressed my disappointment. Perhaps I'm being too critical, but because I was expecting more tonight, I think I actually enjoyed this gig less than the Kaiser Chiefs a few weeks ago. I listened to the new album again this morning, and actually found that it has grown on me a bit, so perhaps I have allowed my mood to sway my judgment too much.

Hmmm.

As a band, they've probably never been as successful, but I think they have a lot to prove with their next record. They waited a long time for success, and I have nothing against their formula, as long as the songs are good enough. Tonight I thought they were very, very disappointing.

But then, I was in a bad mood.

Verdict: 4 / 10

** no earworms this week, I'm afraid, unless I suddenly experience an unexpected energy surge later this evening.... but Ben should be here as Guest Editor next week. Have a good weekend, y'all.

and the street is singing with my feet....

--
Elbow @ The Carling Academy Sheffield, 3rd March 2009

The last time I watched a band four times within a twelve month period was in 2004 when I seemed to bump into Snow Patrol quite a lot and they must have been considering a restraining order. Initially, supporting Athlete, they were new and exciting and at the point in their career where "Run" was yet to chart. The next couple of times I saw them were fantastic, surfing along with a band riding the crest of the wave. By the time I saw them at the dog-end of the year at the Birmingham Academy though, the set was starting to drag and was in desperate need of some fresh material.

"The Seldom Seen Kid" was released in the UK on 17th March 2008 to no great fanfare. It was well reviewed, but when I saw the band at Rock City on 14th April, the venue was not even sold out.

They were fantastic, of course, with the new material sounding even better live. Rock City only fits about 1,900 people, and although it's a great place to watch bands, I couldn't help wonder how a band this good hadn't managed a sell out. As I said at the time:

"In a world in which bands like Razorlight, Kasabian and Babyshambles can play arenas and stadiums -- and good luck to them -- there's simply no justice in the world that a band as good as Elbow are still playing venues like Rock City. Selfishly though, as a fan, that works out just fine for me. World domination would be great, but seeing a band this good in a venue as small as this is good for me too."

On the evening of Tuesday 9th September 2008, everything changed for Elbow when, to almost universal acclaim, they won the Mercury Music Prize for the album of the year. Momentum had been building slowly, with "One Day Like This" in particular receiving lots of exposure as the soundtrack to events like the Olympics. Their sundown performance at Glastonbury on the Other Stage was watched by millions of people from their homes as well as by a huge crowd on Worthy Farm basking in the glorious light of a splendid sunset. The prize suddenly thrust Elbow into the big leagues, and far from being unable to sell out Rock City, now they were booking dates for Wembley Arena (which they play on 14th March).

I saw the band again on October 17th at Leicester De Montfort, but the gig had sold out long before the Mercury prize was awarded, so the crowd had long since been converted to the slow-burning pleasures of the band, and so the atmosphere was one of joyous, but also slightly reverent celebration. I couldn't help but wonder how a crowd attracted by the success of their most recent album was going to react when presented with the older songs like "Scattered Black and Whites". Would they listen in such an attentive and respectful silence and resist the opportunity for a trip to the bar and a chat before pushing back into the crowd when the band launch into "Mirrorball" or "Grounds for Divorce"?

If Elbow's crowd is changing, then this gig at the Academy in Sheffield was going to be my big opportunity to find out. I was also quickly going to find out if, great album though it is, the band had been flogging it around for too long and if it was time to go away and write some new material.

The venue itself is pretty nice. With a capacity of 2,350, it's like a slightly bigger Rock City. Although the auditorium has big overhangs from the upstairs balcony, from what I could tell, you get pretty good views of the stage from almost wherever you are standing (albeit I am taller than most people, and so can see from almost anywhere at most venues). The crowd, at first glance, appeared to be little different to what I had seen before at Elbow gigs past: an older indie crowd. As it turned out though, they were in fact a little less attentive and a little more prone to chatting during songs than the crowd at De Montfort, but they weren't too irritating. More serious was that the sound wasn't quite so good. Alright, De Montfort has excellent acoustics, but here the sound was distinctly boomy. It improved as the set went on, but it was a bit muffled all the way through. Not to worry though: the band were superb.

The set list was much the same as before, with a lot of the (now-not-so) new songs, a handful from "Leaders of the Free World" (Station Approach, Leaders of the Free World, Mexican Standoff, The Stops...), nothing at all from "Cast of Thousands" and a scattering from "Asleep in the Back" (including Newborn and Scattered Black and Whites). A couple of songs were different, but this was more or less the same set in the same order as we saw in Leicester in October. I think it says a lot for the quality of the material, the excellence of the playing and the geniality and inclusiveness of Guy Garvey that they manage to pull this off without me feeling in the least bit bored or jaded at all. Of course, this being a gig in Sheffield and to add a bit of variety, we had the added pleasure of local legend Richard Hawley joining the band onstage for "The Fix", his mellifluous croon blending beautifully with Garvey's rather more careworn, but still spendid, lisp.

Elbow are a marvelously textured band; they write songs that take a while to soak in, but once they have soaked in, they seem to mature and deepen like a fine cellared wine, getting richer and broader with every listen. It took me a comparative age before I really clicked with "Leaders of the Free World", with Puncture Repair proving to be the key, but it has now become one of my very favourite albums, and is still my favourite Elbow album. "The Seldom Seen Kid" has been very similar: I initially didn't know quite what to make of it, but seeing it live helped me "get" the songs, and it has now become an almost immovable fixture on my internal jukebox. "One Day Like This" is perhaps the exception that proves this rule - it's instantly recognisable (to me, at least) as being by Elbow, and it contains some typically lovely turns of phrase, but it is immediate and anthemic and has opened the band up to a whole new audience. It goes down marvellously here too, of course, with the band supported by their now regular string quartet, and with the now-traditional sprinkling of the crowd with silver streamers from a cannon Garvey releases during the song. It's a great moment in the set again, for sure, but it's still not my favourite Elbow song, and the singalong - although great - is not as good as that first time I saw them doing the song at Rock City, when the crowd continued to sing the refrain for five minutes after the band had left the stage to encourage them back for the encore. Garvey announces my favourite song of theirs as being sadly dated now that Bush is out of office, but the drive of "Leaders of the Free World" and its booming bassline that get me going every time, although I also still get a massive kick out of the primal riff of "Grounds for Divorce" and well-up every time I hear "The Stops" (although tonight this is delivered faster and with less emotional impact than in October. It remains a real heartbreaker of a song though).

In a brief, impromptu Q&A session during the encore, Garvey tells a disappointed crowd that they won't be playing Glastonbury this year (because they intend to be enjoying it as punters). I'd happily watch them play there again, of course, but I also can't help but think that the break is a really good thing. They've been flogging this album for a while now, and triumphant though the last twelve months have been for them, it's time to move on. If they go away now and produce some more quality material that continues their upward trajectory, then we could well be looking at the Glastonbury headliners for 2010.

I certainly hope so.

Good band. Even though it was a long drive home in the dark and it was pissing with rain all the way, I had a smile on my face all the way back to Nottingham. Elbow are a band I will happily travel to go and see.

Verdict: 8 / 10

what don't kill you make you more strong.....

Metallica @ Nottingham Arena, 25th February 2009

I still think that one of the best gigs I have ever been to was Metallica at the Milton Keynes Bowl in 1991. I'd discovered the band a few years before, at some point in 1988, when something had inspired me to -- without having heard the band -- to purchase a cassette copy of "...And Justice For All". I was already into bands like Iron Maiden, but I think it's fair to say that I hadn't heard anything like Metallica before. With that album, and completely unknown to the 14 year old me, the band had taken a significant stride away from their thrash past and were instead creating complex songs, many over ten minutes long, with lot of changes of pace and complex, dive-bombing guitar solos. Although I basked in the baffled looks I got from people who heard me playing the album, it took me quite a long time before I could really appreciate what I had discovered. In fact, it probably wasn't until after the release of "Enter Sandman" and the Black Album some years later.

Over the ensuing twenty years, I have slowly worked my way backwards through the band's back catalogue and -- thanks to Mark -- have also caught up on a lot of their more recent stuff too. Admirable though "Some Kind of Monster" might be for its honesty, there's surely no denying that the band's output of late has been somewhat patchy. Perhaps, we wondered, this was band whose time had gone (and don't even mention Napster). I'm not sure many people think that any more: the band's last album, "Death Magnetic" is immense, combining the complex arrangements of pomp era Metallica with the thrash of the early days. It's a fantastic record. The MP3s are even LOUDER than everything else I have on my iPod, scaring the bejesus out of me every time they pop up on shuffle. Oh yes, I was looking forward to this one.



Although I'm not a big fan of Arena gigs, I welcomed the arrival of an arena in Nottingham as it meant that we now had a good range of music venues of all sizes. Rock City is a brilliant place to watch live music, but its capacity is only a little over 2000 people, and the addition of an arena with five times that capacity meant that I was likely to get a chance to see bigger bands without needing to travel to the NEC. Whilst this has certainly been true, just take a look at the list of bands I have seen there over the last couple of years: The Darkness, Travis, Franz Ferdinand, Keane, Kaiser Chiefs, The Arcade Fire, Morrissey, Razorlight, James Blunt, Kings of Leon, Coldplay..... Yes, you could argue that they are all too big to comfortably play in Rock City, but are they really what you would call arena bands? Are any of them really big enough to fill the acoustics of the place? Mmmm. I'm not sure. The experience is generally an unsatisfactory one: you're too far away from the band for it to be a truly intimate experience, but the sound quality is usually often shockingly poor. It's better to see a band at the arena than not to see them at all, but it's often far from ideal.

I think I've just been to the gig that arenas were built for: Metallica. Let's put this into some context: Over the course of their 28 year career, Metallica have sold 100 million records worldwide. They are widely thought of as being the most influential hard rock / metal band of all time. They are a big, landmark act, famous across the world and responsible for indelibly shaping their genre . The Kaiser Chiefs they most assuredly are not. Although they have never played Nottingham before, Metallica have been playing arenas for decades, and that experience shows. This band fill the space like no other I have seen. Most acts approach an arena show by sizing up the stage at one end and wondering whether to bother having a runway or a secondary stage or something like that. The Kaiser Chiefs on Sunday had a tiny stage just big enough for Ricky Wilson to stand on up near the mixing desk, and he stood on it for one song. Coldplay at the NEC made a bit more of an effort by both having secondary stages at the end of runways out into the audience, and then by actually appearing amongst the crowd to do a little acoustic set. Both were still mainly bound by the main stage. Metallica throw this convention in the bin: the main stage is not used at all, and the band instead set up a large, rectangular stage in the middle of the arena floor and play in the round. The drumkit is placed in the centre and is slowly rotated around through the show, and there are eight microphones dotted around the edge of the stage and facing out into the crowd. The result is that everyone feels closer to the band, and the musicians themselves are able to move around dynamically engaging with different sections of the crowd. It works fantastically well, and makes every seat in the house a good seat.

At first glance, I write off tonight's crowd as being your sterotypical hairy, middle-aged, black t-shirted heavy metal crowd, and Sarah and I ponder whether there is an average of more than one tattoo for every person present. On closer inspection, however, there is a far wider demographic present. Sure, you don't get as many young trendies as you often see out at a gig here, and designer clothing is very much in the minority, but there are a surprising number of girls here, and not all of them are dressed up in standard rock chick uniform (as Sarah said, think "slutty goth"). There are a lot of thirty and forty-somethings here, but also a large number of kids too... not just people in their 20s, but actual kids. Metallica's demographic is apparently a reasonably large one. Lots of people look like they've been to metal gigs before, and have the t-shirts to prove it, but lots look as though this may be their first time. We wait for the support band to finish (Machine Head, who had been preceded by Sword...) and then head into the arena itself to find our seats.

The band come on at 9pm on the button, and the otherwise completely blacked-out stage is lit by an impressive set of lasers as the band launch into "That Was Just Your Life" and James Hetfield, underlit by floor spots, works his way around the microphones on the stage, with his colleagues remaining in darkness. It's the opening song from the new album, and it's a cracker. The rest of the stagelights come up at the conclusion of the song, and we're off to a flyer. The set itself is a good mixture of very old and very new. New songs like "The Day That Never Comes", "All Nightmare Long" and "Broken, Beat and Scarred" blend together really nicely with timeless classics like "Master of Puppets", "One", "Sad But True", "Nothing Else Matters", "Fight Fire With Fire" and, of course, "Enter Sandman". I'm already admiring the stage set up and lights when the entire lighting rig seems to break into four pieces and four coffins descend and pivot towards the crowd. It really doesn't get any better than this, and the crowd goes wild - and they haven't even started using the flamethrowers yet. The mosh pits look furious on first glance, with people running headlong into each other and aggressive looking bare-chested men rutting like stags. On closer inspection though, it's actually far more ordered, and there appear to be unspoken rules: anyone knocked over is carefully picked up before being shoved again, and, for the faster numbers, everyone moves around in a circle, like a very high-octane game of ring-a-ring-a-roses. It's fascinating stuff. The band themselves are great, with Kirk Hammett and Rob Trujillo working their way around the stage as Hetfield barks out his lyrics, and Lars Ulrich is a whirling dirvish, standing up from behind his drumkit as often as he can, and running to the edge of the stage to spout water onto his adoring fans. It's really impressive stuff. I have never seen a better arena act play this venue, and it's a damn good show.

In the end, the band play for something like two and a quarter hours, finishing with the enormous crowd singalong of "Seek and Destroy" as inflatable black Metallica balls rain from the ceiling.

"Searchin'... SEEK AND DESTROY"

Even when the band have finished, and the curfew is long past, the band seem reluctant to leave the stage. It won't be 28 years before they next play Nottingham, they promise, and the barely thinning crowd roars its approval.

Metallica are an absolutely brilliant, brilliant band, and after a bumpy few years, they appear to be back doing what they do better than anybody else. Arena gig? They slayed it. Best arena gig ever. An object lesson in how to play this sort of venue... are you watching Razorlight?

Verdict: 9.5 / 10.

everything is average nowadays....

The Kaiser Chiefs @ Nottingham Arena, 22nd February 2009

There are two supports at the arena tonight. Esser were fronted by a guy sporting both Vanilla Ice's haircut and a Pearly King's jacket. The music was suitably schizophrenic too, with each song apparently being taken from an entirely different genre, one minute wonky pop, the next sounding like the Hives and then sounding like the Basement Jaxx. Actually, I thought they were pretty good, and at least they made an effort to engage the crowd, with the frontman bouncing around energetically and taking swigs from his hip flask. As the second support, Black Kids were even allowed to have their own light show, and took to a stage resplendent with what looked like giant lightsabres. They're not an obvious arena band, for sure, but they filled the space pretty effectively, and had the crowd well on their side long before they played their two most famous songs, "Hurricane Jane" and "I'm Not Going to Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You". Reggie Youngblood in particular surprised me by quite how good a guitarist he was, and Dawn Watley was beguilingly barefooted behind her keyboard.

....And so to the main event. I suppose it's only fair at this point that I disclose that I don't actually like the Kaiser Chiefs very much. I bought "Employment" on the strength of the first four singles, and then discovered that it pretty much consists entirely of the first few singles. If that in itself wasn't enough to turn me off them, they then had the bad grace to release "Ruby" as the lead single from their next album. Surely that's got to be a contender for the crown of the most irritating song ever committed to record? The band do have a formidable live reputation though, and although I've always been busy watching someone (anyone) else when they've played at Glastonbury, I was curious to see for myself if they could cut the mustard, and the "plus one" ticket from Mike certainly gave me the opportunity without needing to set myself back the best part of £30.

They got off to a bad start. The conceit of having a couple of your stage crew dressed in long white coats and clutching clipboards is presumably meant to keep the crowd entertained in the minutes before the band take to the stage, but it only served to irritate me as they made a great show of strutting around the stage checking setlists and so on. My mood improved somewhat when the band made an entrance worthy of Spinal Tap themselves: the lights dimmed and dry ice began to flow out across the stage and into the arena. The crowd roared in anticipation and the band took to the stage.... but the dry ice kept coming. When the main lights came up and the band kicked into their first song, you actually could not see them at all through the fog. Sadly you could still hear them as they plodded their way through a song I've never heard before from their new record, but at least they'd genuinely given me something to laugh about. After this shakey start though, the band launched straight into "Every Day I Love You Less and Less" and then "Everything is Average Nowadays". In some ways it was quite a bold move to play the two together, as effectively they are the same song, but in practice they are both so up-tempo and performed with such gusto by the band, that they are impossible to resist. I'm sceptical about them to say the least, but watching the crowd bouncing up and down and Ricky Wilson jumping off every available monitor, and I soon found myself beginning to thaw. Perhaps they weren't so bad after all?

Sadly, that was as good as it got. There are other hits, of course: "I Predict A Riot", "Never Miss a Beat", "Oh My God", "Ruby", "Angry Mob", "Love's Not a Competition (But I'm Winning)"... but tellingly, it's those first 4 songs that caught my ear initially that are the ones that stand out, and it's been diminishing returns ever since, with last single "Good Days, Bad Days" being a case in point: it doesn't have much of a hook and it doesn't really go anywhere. Ricky Wilson can jump around all he likes and exhort the crowd to wave their arms in the air all he wants, but nothing can conceal their lack of substance. At one point, Wilson decamps to a tiny little stage in the middle of the arena underneath a single spotlight. He makes a great show of sprinting through the crowd to get there, and then when he's there, he can only play an album track and shout "We are the Kaiser Chiefs!!" a few times before sprinting back to the main stage. It's all he's got, and frankly it's not good enough.

The band sound alright, I suppose, although drummer Nick Hodgson is clearly a frustrated frontman (although, by the sounds of it, he wouldn't be half as good as Wilson) and guitarist Andrew White spends practically the entire set with his back to the audience and facing the drum riser. Wilson aside, they're a pretty anonymous bunch of Sleeper-blokes, truth be told. Wilson himself is all action: throwing his mic stand around, swinging the microphone about, bouncing his tambourine and drumsticks up off the stage floor, climbing around on the lighting rigging, hanging out into the crowd and soaking up their adulation... but he's all gesture. Like his band, they know how to work a crowd, and it feels to me as though they simply go through the motions. For all that they present themselves as the people's band, I actually find them to be a bit sneering. Wilson is at pains to point out that the angry mob of the song are not his audience, but who else is he talking about? Why else do the crowd belt the chorus back at him with so much gusto:

"We are the angry mob
We read the papers every day
We like what we like
We hate what we hate
But we're also easily swayed"

That's clearly meant to be commentary on the great unwashed, tabloid reading British public, but who does he think he's pitching his anthems at?

"I Predict A Riot" is practically irresistable as a song, but again the attitude is one of sneering condescension. The chip fat coated masses he sings about are the same people who sing the words back at him with uncritical adoration. The only thing worse than actually being clever is pretending that you're clever, and the Kaiser Chiefs certainly think they are smarter than their audience...although, to be fair, the audience have made the band very rich indeed by lapping up their anthemic but empty and soulless music. I was expecting the crowd to be made up of Oasis-like beer chuckers, but perhaps those apes know when they are being patronised and have largely stayed away, preferring more "authentic" bands like Kasabian, The Twang and Oasis themselves. There are one or two bare chested morons waving their football shirts over their heads, but the bulk of the crowd mainly consists of "nice" couples who are here to have a good singalong and who probably also enjoy the Pigeon Detectives, Scouting for Girls and other landfill indie. I'm generalising, I know, but watching a packed arena singing along to this empty, echoing nonsense is a very depressing experience.

The Kaiser Chiefs do have some good songs, but they're vapid and vacuous, and by the end of their 90 minute set, I am delighted to see the back of them.

Verdict: 4 / 10.

Mike's review of this gig can be found here.