I guess everyone has a band or a song that holds a sacred place, and Hallelujah is one of mine.I make no excuse for being possessive. I fear the Sistine Chapel has been pebble dashed.
Thursday 18 December 2008
I heard there was a sacred chord......
........that David played and so did Rufus, Jeff, KD and now latest X Factor, factory poppet (or is that puppet) Alexandra Burke. In HMV today I saw a groaning point of sale stand with every possible version of laughing (all the way to the bank) Len's opus. There's part of me that thinks it's great that such a heartfelt ode to belief has reached the masses, but I have a slight sadness that the most popular version is a chopped, plodding representation with Mariah Carey theatrics smothering each verse. You could could look at it this way. Leonard Cohen did say the song explained the many kinds of Hallelujahs that exist and sure enough we've literally got em in cover land; enough to fuel any muso debate as to the definitive exaltation.
Tuesday 15 April 2008
Breeders - Birmingham Academy
I genuinely did not think what I was doing when I said yes. Going to see the Breeders OK, on a Sunday not OK. Were they on my musical radar anymore? kind of, but not sufficiently to warrant this a must see gig. I guess that it must have been my friends wimpering on the phone for me to go wih him that I gave into. Haven't heard the last album, but Kim Deal as anyone alt music minded will exthal the virtues of her goddess like genius. And I guess there was a certain amount of curiosity. It's been 15 years since I saw the Breeders. Hey! You've got to compare wrinkles and she looked better. But I can only console myself with the fact that that I haven't quite stooped to the level of TV choice a recent interview she gave revealled. It transpires she likes watching Midsummer Murders! There is a God!
Got to the Carling Academy in Birmingham, and have to say it just reaked of pee, the walls were sticky and just a dower place to be. Anyway. Support Jim Noir soon perked me up. really like the plinky, electro-retro love buzz of his songs. Loved ' What You Gonna Do' Imagine the Bees crossed with The Beatles 'Revolution' and trips effortlessly along, and you just have to love someone who can open a song with the Line's I've never been to Morcombe Bay'. I heard that he'd supported Supper Furries recently, which kind of figures, both have a great sense of intelligent playfulness musically. Nice woolly hat too.
Bang On was the breeders opening gambit. I started to get the picture that the Breeders were thinking hard about what they should be doing, thus plumping for an even more stripped down sound to the days of yore, and more straightforward too, gone are the days of the really out there jagged beats found in Last Splash and Pod, but songs like German Studies still hold that ground. But fear not, the love of lo-fi fuzz is still a must. And Kelly Deal was made-up being in Brum. She exclaimed that if she came from the home of Balck Sabbath she would just be going around saying Fuck all day......Yep.....eh....yeah.
I'm sad to report that it was leaving me cold a bit. Guess you move on and have to say that I perked up when a couple of the well knowners were rolled out. Just really bought back memories of being young and wreckless. It was abit like that part in Amelie, when she leaves a tin full of memories that she found in her skirting board, in a phone booth for the man who hid the tin as a boy to find it. Shame my memories were left in somewhere as smelly.
Got to the Carling Academy in Birmingham, and have to say it just reaked of pee, the walls were sticky and just a dower place to be. Anyway. Support Jim Noir soon perked me up. really like the plinky, electro-retro love buzz of his songs. Loved ' What You Gonna Do' Imagine the Bees crossed with The Beatles 'Revolution' and trips effortlessly along, and you just have to love someone who can open a song with the Line's I've never been to Morcombe Bay'. I heard that he'd supported Supper Furries recently, which kind of figures, both have a great sense of intelligent playfulness musically. Nice woolly hat too.
Bang On was the breeders opening gambit. I started to get the picture that the Breeders were thinking hard about what they should be doing, thus plumping for an even more stripped down sound to the days of yore, and more straightforward too, gone are the days of the really out there jagged beats found in Last Splash and Pod, but songs like German Studies still hold that ground. But fear not, the love of lo-fi fuzz is still a must. And Kelly Deal was made-up being in Brum. She exclaimed that if she came from the home of Balck Sabbath she would just be going around saying Fuck all day......Yep.....eh....yeah.
I'm sad to report that it was leaving me cold a bit. Guess you move on and have to say that I perked up when a couple of the well knowners were rolled out. Just really bought back memories of being young and wreckless. It was abit like that part in Amelie, when she leaves a tin full of memories that she found in her skirting board, in a phone booth for the man who hid the tin as a boy to find it. Shame my memories were left in somewhere as smelly.
Sunday 9 March 2008
The seldom seen gig
The Seldom Seen Gig
My first gig of the year and I greeted the gig going spectre with aplomb. Elbow have been a really important band to me over the years. Always consistent, musically they're a beautiful, edgy joy to behold and Guy Garvey is a great lyricist. He's capable of making you emotionally identify and empathise and melt with every poetic heartbreak. Cannily, he lets his every word juxtapose your own feelings alongside his. It's a rare talent indeed that you can feel like you can own their songs to reflect a personal emotion, and you kind of get the feeling that they wouldn't mind.
Felt slightly glum as it was the Colston Hall, not known for he best sound in the world. BUT. Fuelled by a previous night there in the company of Richarwd Hawley that turned out OK with no audio miseries, I was very optimistic.
A friend of Mr Sparkie's was there to take pictures for Venue, which was quite exciting, as by day he's a floorer by trade and his photography is starting to take off. Was shocked that he didn't have the foggiest who Elbow were. So made sure a brief history pep talk ensued and we sent him on his way.
The opening synth loops of Starlings heralded the band onstage. A fanfare for the Bury man ensued, as Garvey and the rest of the band mimicked trumpet bursts. Eyup! They've gone all showbiz on us. But down to business and Bones of You steered onto a raucous hispanic path to quit the lolygagging around. Like little glints that pepper the night's sky, Mirrorball, Newborn, Red and Station Approach twinkled brightly like the stars that they were and, to to stop the safe melodic lull, there were equal measures of anthemic bravado, as Grounds For Divorce and Forget Myself kept proceedings upbeat. Musically, there didn't seem that much detachment from how the songs sound live to how they sound recorded. If anything the subtleties of the melodies are made that much stronger, eightned by the swirling strings that punched there way through. Just so uplifting.
It has to be said that the gentle, humorous charm of Mr Garvey won many hearts, fendng off any audience verbal advances like a true pro. Tonight we learnt that he hasn't worn a dress, can't beatbox, knows a cracking joke or two, is not religious, will be playing Glastonbury and that Reg the security man told him that The Colston Hall stood on an old monastry site. Well done sir. It's kind of cool that you can go to a gig and learn a fact of the day. Normally I'm not that good at retaining facts, but remebering every joyful moment of the gig tonight? Well, that's pretty easy.
My first gig of the year and I greeted the gig going spectre with aplomb. Elbow have been a really important band to me over the years. Always consistent, musically they're a beautiful, edgy joy to behold and Guy Garvey is a great lyricist. He's capable of making you emotionally identify and empathise and melt with every poetic heartbreak. Cannily, he lets his every word juxtapose your own feelings alongside his. It's a rare talent indeed that you can feel like you can own their songs to reflect a personal emotion, and you kind of get the feeling that they wouldn't mind.
Felt slightly glum as it was the Colston Hall, not known for he best sound in the world. BUT. Fuelled by a previous night there in the company of Richarwd Hawley that turned out OK with no audio miseries, I was very optimistic.
A friend of Mr Sparkie's was there to take pictures for Venue, which was quite exciting, as by day he's a floorer by trade and his photography is starting to take off. Was shocked that he didn't have the foggiest who Elbow were. So made sure a brief history pep talk ensued and we sent him on his way.
The opening synth loops of Starlings heralded the band onstage. A fanfare for the Bury man ensued, as Garvey and the rest of the band mimicked trumpet bursts. Eyup! They've gone all showbiz on us. But down to business and Bones of You steered onto a raucous hispanic path to quit the lolygagging around. Like little glints that pepper the night's sky, Mirrorball, Newborn, Red and Station Approach twinkled brightly like the stars that they were and, to to stop the safe melodic lull, there were equal measures of anthemic bravado, as Grounds For Divorce and Forget Myself kept proceedings upbeat. Musically, there didn't seem that much detachment from how the songs sound live to how they sound recorded. If anything the subtleties of the melodies are made that much stronger, eightned by the swirling strings that punched there way through. Just so uplifting.
It has to be said that the gentle, humorous charm of Mr Garvey won many hearts, fendng off any audience verbal advances like a true pro. Tonight we learnt that he hasn't worn a dress, can't beatbox, knows a cracking joke or two, is not religious, will be playing Glastonbury and that Reg the security man told him that The Colston Hall stood on an old monastry site. Well done sir. It's kind of cool that you can go to a gig and learn a fact of the day. Normally I'm not that good at retaining facts, but remebering every joyful moment of the gig tonight? Well, that's pretty easy.
Sunday 8 July 2007
Glastonbury. The filth, the fury, the wellies
There was something that I wished that I had done this year. That's made a video of my Glasto 2007 experience. So. Come this time next year an hour before the tickets go on sale, I watch the video again and then, only then, would I be sure if the prospect of hell in mud is worth taking a risk for. I thought 2005 was bad, but 'Brown Friday' as it is affectionately known pailed into insignificance to this year. The rain did not let up. It's not the nicest feeling continually soaked, although I did have a minor godsend in the form of a guest pass for backstage Jazz World, which made the toilet turmoil more bearable and provided much needed sofas to slump in after spending hours stood in sticky mud. Look on the bright side though. It was a great work out for trimming your thighs walking through the sludge. Although had to draw the line of carrying my tent home. I left it there, safe in the knowledge that they had a scheme which would use all the left tents for agencies in Africa to provide shelter. There were some funny moments too. Most memorable being a troupe of indian dancers insisting that we have our picture taken with them. Guess we must have ticked all the boxes for looking like your average rain sodden festy goer. Oh and bizzarrely enough loads of people thought Mr Sparkie was Comedian Justin Lee Collins. Thought I'd add to his misery by calling him Justin loudly "Happy Dayz me babber!" And, predictably Farmer Eavis trotted out the stock quote of, despite the weather being bad, it was the best one yet.
Well. Adios for good Glasters. I love you but, it's just not working between us anymore. I'm sure it'll be an amicable split, particularly given the choice of watching it from the comfort of my own home on't telly from now on.
Anyway, this is how kept myself busy by facing the music and dancing.....Well swaying from side to side as you couldn't really move your feet. Bring on the bands!
Friday John Peel Stage
Fear Of Music. Bless them. A pleasant surprise as I didn't know anything about them so there wasn't any high expectations. Bit Placeboish, (think they're latest stuff has been produced by The Horror's Producer, so figures a little), but they played their young little socks off with power, oomph and bags of energy . Not wholly my cup of tea but went away with a warm, fuzzy optimistic feeling for the task ahead.
Pyramid
Gogol Bordello. Joint winners for my "if ever there was a festival band, then blimey! They're it." award. Gypsy Punk is cool and a great. Me now convinced of that. Like watching a tom-bola of coloured pin-pong balls whirling around. A big rallying accompaniment to the first real downpour of the day.
Highlight: Stop Wearing Purple. Precipitation level: Pah. Only a shower. Convinced this'll be the only rain of the day.
Amy Winehouse "They trywh twoo may me gowww to weehwab wah say" . Not sure what she was muttering really. Diction lacking a bit, so was her balance as she stepped on the stage. But think that was her high heels.
Precipitation Level: Ooh another shower.....it's getting heavier Other Stage
Modest Mouse Johnny Marr oggle fest. You kind of got the feeling that not may people had heard of Modest Mouse, but knew that bloke out of the Smith's had just joined them. Didn't really capture the imagination of the inquisitive onlookers.
Expectation Level: High Actuality : Look! That's where the bar is , lets go.
Bright Eyes Decked out in a mud defying white suit Connor Oberist, said that he was quite surprised to be asked back. We were surprised too. The uncontrolled rant on the John Peel stage in 2005 about the great man didn't win that many friends. But torch bearing lynch mobs were nowhere to be seen and admirably, it was a fantastic pleasant valley sun-set. Although not too sure about the Johnny Cash stylee re-working of 'First Day Of My Life.'
Highlight: Asking why a flag waving in the crowd said Cougar. Was told it was a bands name. Mr Oberist said that where he comes from Cougar is another name for a older women that prefer to sleep with younger men. He then asked if the band were any good. The reply from the audience was that they were "shit". "Oh." says Mr Brighteyes. "All the Cougars I've know have been great".
Super Furry Animals First band greatest hits back catalogue munch of the festival. For me they are one of the finest bands to ever walk this planet and it didn't hurt, that this was all familiar sing song territory. Certainly beat the lack luster set I saw at Ashton Court last year. Gruff Rhys sported a red Tranformers helmet for a time as you do. And a sing song to Northern Lights bought out the sun from under the storm clouds. Nice use of a bag of Walkers crisps as a musical accompaniment too.
Rufus Wainright. A vision in garish pinstripes and a leisurely jaunt through the latest 'Release the Stars'. Was joined by Martha W for the spoken bit in Between my legs. But the encore was err 'interesting'. He came back on dressed in a black jacket, fishnets, heels and lippy. Song and dance routine ensued from fi-fi la Wainwright . Get happy. Oh the Irony. You are so funny....no..really.
Tolerance Level: My first hissy fit of the festival after being constantly knocked in the face by an idiot with a rucksack on his back leaping up and down and not being able to get a grip in the mud with my wellies. Mr Sparkie intervened with a quick shake and told me to get a grip. I then sobbed and begged for a breather. Back to the tent for my bottle of JD and woolly jumper. I love Glastonbury, I love Glastonbury, I love Glastonbury..........
Arcade Fire Although very, very good, felt a little disappointed as everyone kept telling me that live, they're are a truly remarkable, passionate experience. Think that maybe the bun-fight that was watching them, scuppered my chances of fully immersing myself. But fantastic energy and enjoyed bellowing all the choruses.
Don't try this at home moment: Two of the members beating each other over the head with a step ladder, all in the name of entertainment.
First pair of wellies onstage award: Well done Regine! aka animated wifey of Wynn Butler. But me thinks only worn in solidarity, not mud splattered at all.
Bjork All the hits clickety click and in a head dress made from pompoms to boot. Lasers that could correct cataracts at fifty paces. Bit late to change my mind a trott off to the Arctic Monkeys I spose. But she wished us a happy Summer Solstice....which was nice.....
Saturday
Pyramid
Dirty Petty Things Minds elsewhere. With a just out of bed, how could our manager have done this to us look. Indie rock was sinking like I was in the mud NEXT!
Lilly Allen. Admirable pop potty mouthed onslaught, from Keith Allen sprog made good. Highlight: Reunited the Specials Neville Staples and Terry Hall to sing Gangsters. Very funny to see mass attempted ska dancing and many parted from their wellies as a result.
Other Stage.
CSS "if ever there was a festival band, then blimey! They're it." Two! The student chic, twistingly charming lyrics, and the pocket goddess that is Love Foxx, bought beaming faces to the masses. Leotards are in dontcha know. Love Foxx gamefully sported a couple. She circumnavigated the stage like a Jane Fonda workout on speed.
Highlights: Love Foxx proving that it was not just nitrous oxide that was filling balloons at the festival. She sucked helium from one of the numerous balloons onstage to introduce Let's Make Love. Mass giggles all round.
Maximo Park "We haven't got balloons or special guests to entertain you, just some tunes that we think you'll like. Cue hissy fit of the festival two;
Me: Why am I f****ng in this s**t hole, this is the last f****ng time! Mr Sparkie: Someone needs a hug.
John Peel Stage
Bat For Lashes. Ok. The deluge of rain that we had was expected to a certain degree. But some lady on the stage wailing in an indian head dress, banging a huge stick on the stage, tantermounts to an uneccessary rain dance in my book. She was to blame for our increasing misery. Madam be gone!
Precipitation Level: As muddy as a mud wrestlers gusset.
Other Stage again
Editors I liked, but they seemed a bit mis-scheduled. Really lost in the malaise of Glastonbury. Lots of passionate posturing from lead singer Tom. Munich sounded pretty spectacular, but it felt mismatched like a manic depressive kids entertainer. Not their fault though.
Iggy and The Stooges. Local Bristol legend Jeff said it was as if Iggy heard the first growls of feedback and his eyes came alive and he was ready. Couldn't agree more. Although felt a little let down as one of the festival press guys told me later that the mass stage invasion and general barmy antics were choreographed down to the last second. Hey. He could even get me a stage set to prove it. Bet he used to go around telling younger kids Father Christmas didn't exist. But like Santa, it was magical whilst it lasted. And everyone was turning to each other in amazement as Iggy's antics unfurled. Just so happens the stranger next to me was Duke Special. So that was my celeb experience. We chatted enthusiastically about what we'd seen and I thought it was only proper to congratulate him on being an all round good egg. Well done sir.
Sunday
Other Stage
Get Cape, Wear Cape, Fly Sam Duckworth, must be a glutton for punishment. Normally any sane musician faced with the muddy Glastonbury behemoth would make a hasty exit after their set (Bye Pete and Kate) But no. Not Mr Duckworth. Four times and as many different stages he graced. But this mid afternoon outing was the biggest. He used the opportunity for a big dose of political good cause awareness. Fair a ruddy nuff, but his conscience rendered him unable to add up. He proposed that If we took 170,000 and multiplied by 2 that would be double the amount of people making a change, and that's half the population of the country! . Err, make that 340,000. But gamefully GCWCF, delivered some corking songs, polished with a great brass trill and an air of defiance. one to explore further.
Chris Martin rating: Make Trade Fair, but go buy a calculator
Pyramid
Shirley Bassey A stroke of genius. She started with Pink's Get The Party Started, straight into a Bond Medley. The Dame was resplendent in a Salmon sequined gown and she shimmied like everyone's favourite saucy maiden aunt accross the stage. Viva Las Vegas in the sludge, with Big Spender having everyone singing their hearts out. Respect to the Tiger Bay diva.
Manic Street Preachers Umpteenth crowd pleasing hit laiden set with view to selling the new album. But not complaining. Loved the chance to re-aquiant myself with the likes of Motorcycle Emptiness, You Love Us and Revol. And, Mr Sparkie's afternoon was brightened when Scandanavian saucestrell Nina Pearson turned up to duet on Your Love Is Not Enough. Also, to make us feel a little better, James Dean Bradfield said it was piddling down in Germany too....yeah....that's a comfort...thanks.
Likelyhood of the Manics getting their own toilet: All depends if Billy Bragg was in front of them in the queue. No toiletgate this time.
Worth one final trek over to this stage. By now it was chucking it down and I decided to throw caution to the wind and get some shelter even though the crowd was spilling out of the rammed tent. Beth Ditto's attitude and energy was formidable. Every song an anti anthem, which made you feel uplifted and defiant amidst the worsening elements. and a relief for me as if this was going to be my last band seen at Glastonbury forever , so I wanted to bow out on a high note. Thankyou Beth. Ms Ditto did have an altercation with her underwear though, whipping up her PVC dress and removing her knickers. One way to cure the lady scurge of gobblecrack I suppose. Left wondering how the live coverage on the BBC got round that one.
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