Statistics! Get yer gig statistics here! Two weeks, three gigs, two venues, five friends, four free tickets ( the best kind of tickets ). Sarah and I had a short breather after the spectacular Pulp gig in Glasgow, then we were back to the gigging life. Two shows we'd planned and one out of the blue, all cracking gigs.
First up was the unexpected one. I got a message on a random Tuesday afternoon that a friend of Sophie's had spare tickets to Snow Patrol at Westonbirt Arboretum that night, and would we like to go? I'd seen SP way back in 2004 at the V Festival ( who remembers that? ) and hadn't been overly impressed, but I knew that Sarah really likes them so obviously we said yes. A quick rush home after work, a bit of a faff with the tickets, and then we were racing ( kind of ) up into the Cotswolds to the leafy environs of Tetbury. And then we slooooooooooooowed down as we hit some humongous traffic, and crawled the last mile or so to the venue. As a result, we missed both support bands, but still managed to get into the Arboretum with time enough to spare to see the headliners.
Nestled amongst the beautiful trees, the main arena of the venue reminded me very much of the Wychwood Festival - a family-friendly affair with various food outlets around the perimeter and ( far too bloody many ) camping chairs as far as the eye could see. We wormed our way into the heart of the crowd, to paraphrase Magazine ( or slightly to the right of the stage to be accurate ), and then it was time for Gary Lightbody and friends to bring us their Celtic soft-indie-rock. They kicked off with probably their liveliest song, Take Back the City, all angular guitars and whoa-whoa-whoa hooks, making quite a confident entrance. More mellow singalong indie followed in the form of Chocolate and I began to think I'd been too harsh on Snow Patrol back in the day. Sarah says I've probably mellowed with age, but I'm not so sure. To be honest, lots of music sounds better when played live, adding another dimension, and I'm happy to see most bands and give them a go. Except Tom Jones, obviously.
Lightbody was a friendly, upbeat frontman with a definite case of what Dylan Moran would call "Irish hair" and a laid-back style of patter. He admitted: "We're going to play some old songs and some new songs tonight, but don't panic - you'll know a lot of them. And if you don't know the next one, we're fooked..." The next song being, of course, epic indie torch song Run - which everybody knew and we all sang along to. Which was nice.
While not the most visually dynamic of bands ( they just get on with it and play the songs, which is fine ), Snow Patrol's screens displayed some cool images to counterpoint the music, especially the below fiery trees which were certainly appropriate. I mean, the event was called
Forest Live after all. And the band's new album is called The Forest Is The Path. It all ties together really.
After Shut Your Eyes and Open Your Eyes ( will you make up your mind, Gary? ) and an epic Crack The Shutters, we were into the home straight with the even-more-epic Chasing Cars, the emotional highlight of the evening, all the crowd singing and swaying along as one. You could make the case that Snow Patrol are very derivative - a bit of U2 here, a lot of Coldplay there, even a dash of Big Country - but they're adept at making this stuff sound their own and can definitely engage an audience. Lightbody himself has a less-is-more, soulful vocal style, touched with his NI inflections, and a cheeky grin when bounding around the stage with his bandmates. The main set finished with You're All I Have, probably the rockiest song they've got and a fine, surging anthem. They came back out for a couple of encores, finishing with the windswept Just Say Yes, a hymn to positivity which had us all bouncing up and down on the grass: "Show me a garden that's bursting into life" and, yes, we did.
So, actually, a great set and I really enjoyed it. Surprisingly. And Sarah was very happy to have finally seen Snow Patrol. All that was left was to grab an overpriced but pretty decent hotdog and then sit and wait for the interminable queues to die down then head for home then get back at 1am then go to sleep for about 4 1/2 hours then go to work. Phew!
And then, five days later, we were back at Forest Live again for another band from the Emerald Isle, in this case the Republic's premier pop purveyors
The Script. Not that I'd really appreciated who they were prior to this. Our good friends Kevin and Lynn had surprised me a few months ago by saying they'd bought tickets for a gig and we were all going. Apart from taking Kev to see Dexy's many years ago, we'd never been to see bands with them before, so it sounded like good fun. Kev then revealed it was... The Script!!! ( Like that, after an imaginary drumroll. ) I must have looked non-plussed, not really knowing who that was, so Kev said "You know, their singer was a judge on The Voice?" Nope, don't watch stuff like that. The poor bloke must have been disappointed at my reaction, ungrateful git that I am, but I said we'd be happy to give it a go. Especially because the tickets were a gift lol. ( I'm not really as mercenary as that... or am I? ) I've known Kev since I was 5-years old, so all this was in good humour.
We got to the Arboretum earlier this time, so there was less queueing and Kev's cheeky parking skills meant we were handy for the exit for later. And then in we went. After some food, drink and chat we caught the support act,
Tom Walker. To be honest, I didn't pay him much attention. His singer-songwriter vibes and impressive voice & beard were fine, but it was all a bit too bland and mainstream for me. He's obviously talented but not my cup of rosy lee. We made our way down to the front ( well, as close as the others wanted to go ) and, after a slight disagreement with a lady in a camping chair who thought she owned the field, it was time for the headliners.
The Script came on to some wild applause and cheering from the surprisingly all-ages crowd, and some polite clapping from us non-fans. They set out their stall with their first song, the piano-led soft rock of Superheroes, and proceeded to win over the crowd, and even us newbies. Although their music is more mainstream ( there's that word again! ) than the stuff I'd usually listen to, it was certainly impressive with its uplifting, communal spirit and catchy ( hey, it's pop! ) choruses. Danny O'Donoghue ( he used to be on The Voice, you know ) was a hugely entertaining frontman - energetic, positive and talkative, with a very strong voice and an often confessional approach to interacting with the crowd.
Second song, Rain, didn't bode well for the evening, as clouds were already starting to form, but the likes of Six Degrees of Separation and mega-hit The Man Who Can't Be Moved ( even I'd heard that one! ) kept the precipitation at bay for a while with their sunny energy. The Script seem to have mastered that classic pop thing of singing very upbeat songs with often melancholy lyrics and that counterpoint really worked.
At one point, things got serious as Danny talked about their former guitarist, Mark Sheehan, who sadly died a couple of years ago. He'd been a founder member of the band and his loss obviously hit them hard. Danny also mentioned his upbringing, his dad ( If You Could See Me Now was dedicated to him ), and previous battles with alcohol abuse. This confessional side to the show was a very heartfelt flipside to the glitzier, showbiz aspects of the performance. Meanwhile, the light entertainment side of the band came out as Danny plucked a girl from the crowd for her Dancing In The Dark moment and sat her down by his side at the piano. He asked her to play one, final, note on the piano at the end of a song, and then danced around the stage with her. She was clearly in seventh heaven, while other girls in the audience could be seen to seethe with envy. The Script finished the set with singalong anthem For The First Time, the rain now properly coming down, but we were having a great time so it didn't really matter.
And talking of singalongs, the encores of Breakeven and Hall of Fame had the whole field bellowing out the words and dancing in the rain, and were a poptastic pair of songs to conclude the evening. It had been a fun night with some great friends and the musical accompaniment had been much more enjoyable than I'd expected. We got out of the venue amazingly quickly, due to Kev's previously-mentioned parking strategy, and headed for home. Sarah and I both had the next day off work, so had plenty of time to chill out, whereas Kevin and Lynn were up at 7 am the next day to catch a flight to Jamaica - no rest for the wicked.
A very different gig next: the incomparable St Vincent at the O2 Institute in Birmingham...
I'd missed St Vincent when she last stopped in the UK ( two sold out gigs last year ) so, when I heard she was playing some additional dates on her All Born Screaming tour, I jumped at the chance to secure some tickets. I persuaded my good friend Tom to come along too. We'd previously seen Annie Clark aka St Vincent in a swelteringly-hot Oxford O2 three years ago almost to the day and it had been a revelation - one of the loudest, sweatiest, funkiest ( is that a word? ) gigs I'd ever experienced. Could she do it again? Let's find out...
Tom very kindly drove us up to Brum and, after a pretty easy journey, we parked at the Bull Ring and made our way to the O2 Institute. Situated on the grimier edge of town, it's a venue that's out on a limb ( opposite a coach station and a large derelict area ) but inside reveals itself to be a lovely old theatre. Very similar in fact to the Manchester Apollo, although not as large. I'd seen The Dandy Warhols there a few years back but had kind of forgotten it. We grabbed a quick Subway and ate by the kerbside like a pair of urchins, then went inside to catch support act
Cult Of Venus - not an actual cult, you'll be glad to hear. Actually, this was a one-woman act in the form of a mysterious, unnamed singer and multi-instrumentalist ( seriously, try and Google her... ) who built up songs from triggered samples and drumbeats and then played guitar and keyboards over top. ( A bit like Ed Sheeran, then... but luckily not in any other way. ) Her music had a pleasingly retro '80-style vibe, while her vocals often had a hint of Country and she could certainly hit some impressively long notes. ( Funnily enough, Tom and I had been talking about Country on the journey - he's a real fan. ) Cult Of Venus definitely made a big impression on the audience ( one of the best reactions I've seen to a support act ) and songs like Sinner and Algorithm mark her out as one to watch.
St Vincent and her band then came out onto the stage and the crowd lost their shit, as I believe da yoof would say. Starting with the slowly building Reckless, they showed us just how intense and
loud the set was going to be. After the funk and '70s rock of the Daddy's Home album, the material from All Born Screaming is a lot more abrasive and gutsy, and this band played like their lives depended on it. I was particularly glad to see ace guitarist
Jason Falkner and the keyboard player ( Rachel? I think? ) from the previous iteration of Annie's band were back and were kicking all kinds of arse.
Annie then dipped back into the Masseduction era with two of her sleek, robo-pop classics - Fear The Future and Los Ageless - now retooled for this grungier sound. And they were gigantic. For most of the set she was wielding her guitar like a sonic meat-cleaver, chopping out the heavy, heavy sounds and indulging in some tongue-in-cheek guitar duels with a clearly delighted Falkner. Broken Man was, if anything, even heavier with St Vincent throwing herself and her guitar around the stage, chasing down the soundwaves. As before, her performance was theatrical, physical and playful, including some of her being-held-up-above-the-crowd moves ( see above ) and speaker-stack-climbing ( see above above ) - leading Tom to say "I think she's possessed". We decided it was our job, as an audience, to help exorcise her, if only for one night.
Pay Your Way In Pain, Flea and Big Time Nothing were jerky, funky treats, while a gorgeous New York showcased Annie's silky vocals which often got buried in the sonic overload. She addressed the current state of the world in general, and America in particular, in a surprisingly positive way:
"You know, I have a lot of hope. I do. I think we're going to be alright. And you know why? Because we take care of each other." Let's hope so.
This whole show was intense, extreme and noisy, but still thrilling and joyful - the audience were wild for it throughout and you could tell St Vincent and her band were vibing off the crowd's energy, feeding it back and looping it around. I honestly think she's become one of my all-time favourite performers... and this after only seeing two of her gigs. Annie's really that special.
The main set finished with All Born Screaming itself, the band all singing the oh so melancholy chorus ( melanchorus? ) like angels, not demons.
The evening concluded in a similar vein to the Pulp gig - a hushed postscript - with a beautiful, lowkey rendition of Candy Darling, St Vincent's hymn to loners, lovers and losers everywhere. It was sublime.
So, hopefully, that was everyone's demons exorcised... just for one night at least.
