Recent(ish) gigs: EMF, The Wedding Present, Echobelly, Slotface

 Yes, it's overdue gig review time again. I'm kicking this post off with a totally gratuitous photo of the vivacious Sarah from Blue Violet, an exciting, new-to-me band I saw supporting Echobelly recently. It's a shameless, brazen attempt to get people of a certain persuasion to read this 'ere blog. ( Do I seem desperate? )

In a rare case of me actually posting about gigs in chronological order ( it'll never catch on! ), I'm going back to October and another new-to-me band, Norwegian indie-punk firebrands Slotface. You'll have to imagine a Scandinavian-style oblique slash through the "o" in that name, instead of what I've attempted, as my keyboard doesn't want to comply. ( Slotface were originally called Slutface, but changed the name after complaints, although it's still pronounced the same. Apparently. ) I'd bought tickets over a year ago to see current hottest-band-in-the-world The Last Dinner Party in Birmingham but, unfortunately, this gig was cancelled only a couple of days before the event. This left me and good friend Tom ( of The Sensitive Bore fame ) looking for an alternative form of entertainment, preferably in the Birmingham area, and preferably not opera or bingo. After hitting YouTube for song examples, we decided on this unknown quantity.

The venue, The Victoria, turned out to be an old school Brummie pub, just over the road from New Street train station, with a function room on the first floor. This can probably hold about 70 people so is compact and bijou, you might say, if you were so inclined. The first band on were Prairie who described themselves as "Black Country emo" and lived up to the billing. They were a pretty decent indie band ( talk about damning with faint praise! ) but their songs were noticeably lacking in memorable hooks. To be fair, their singer was also dealing with a bad cold and her voice gave out a few times, but she struggled gamely on. After the set I had a quick chat with her and praised her gumption ( that's not a euphemism ) and she said that, as people had made the effort to come out on a wet night in Birmingham, she felt obliged to at least attempt to put on a show. Fair enough.

Next up were SUDS, another band with a rather uninspiring name, and - no offence to Prairie - the quality instantly ramped up. In a similar, indie -Emo -punk vein, SUDS had tunes, hooks and melodies to spare, and a joyous energy that woke up the audience. Their singer had a surprisingly sweet voice and shared some fun banter with the bass-player who was a dead ringer for Jerry from The Walking Dead. Definitely a band to watch, even though they seem a bit too polite and sedate for the type of audiences I imagine they're playing for.

"Polite and sedate" are not words I'd use to describe Slotface...

Roaring onto the stage with the charmingly-titled I Used To Be A Real Piece Of Shit, Slotface fizzed with a crackling aural voltage and kicked out a ball of melodic, punky, fuzzed-up sound. Each member of the band looked amazingly cool and had attitude and presence coming out of their ears. In short, the kind of band that are tailor-made for old gig-goers like me, who often wonder where all the "real" bands are today. ( Alright, give it a rest, granddad! )

They introduced new songs from their latest album, Film Buff, such as Leading Man and Final Girl, which had various movie / film connotations, and then pleased their regular fans with older songs such as Nancy Drew and Telepathetic ( a real anthem, probably my favourite of the night. ) These songs were all new to me and Tom, and were all fantastic. Singer Haley Shea had an excellent voice, powerful, controlled and soaring, while her bandmates were all cracking musicians - one of the tightest bands I've seen in ages.

And, speaking of cracking, that's what nearly happened to my cranium as the bass player leapt off the stage and nearly clobbered me with his machine head. Pretty soon, Haley joined him down on the floor and encouraged us to form a mini circle pit, which we duly did. All good, sweaty fun. Haley asked if any of us were "gym people" ( which prompted a resounding "No!" ) and said she could probably give personal fitness training a go if the rock 'n' roll didn't work out. On this evidence, I think it will work out...

Here's me above, pointing out the murderous, but oblivious, bass player. And below, the full Slotface workout routine in blurred action. All too soon, the gig was over and everyone was knackered but grinning, confident we'd seen one of the standout performances of the year, proving that unexpected gigs can often be the best. Tom and I had a chat with Haley at the merch stand, where I bought a signed vinyl copy of the new album. Tom, of course, asked Haley what her favourite movies are and she replied she was a big fan of The Breakfast Club, something she apparently likes to say to film bores ( like us! ) who expect something more profound from a singer whose album is called Film Buff. Top marks for attitude, yet again. So, three bands I'd happily see again ( especially Slotface! ), although I think I'd wear a hard hat next time...

Moving on from up-and-coming young bands and on to some more, er, mature acts now - starting with two consecutive nights in my favourite venue, Gloucester's gorgeous Guildhall...

Friday 15/11 saw my third time unwrapping The Wedding Present. Sarah and I had seen them in this very same venue almost exactly a year before, and that had been an absolutely killer gig, so I was overjoyed to see them again. Sarah wasn't as keen, but came along anyway. I'm glad to report they were just as good this time and I think they're becoming, after all this time, one of my fave live bands. We unfortunately missed the support, but still got into the venue early enough to bag a good spot near the stage.

Starting off with a couple of new songs ( brave! ) David Gedge and his band started as they meant to go on: all velocity, lugubrious vocals and finger-shredding guitar pyrotechnics. I'm still not overly familiar with TWP's back catalogue, but the classic A Million Miles was the third song and the familiar opening chords brought an instant smile to my face, and I even managed to kind of sing along. Yes, I'm definitely becoming a fan.

Gedge, who seemed to surprise himself with how much he talked to and with the audience, announced a third new song, and said we might want to "go for a wee" at this point. Bless. He didn't have to worry as this slow-burning tune, Silver Shadow, was just as captivating as more familiar material like Don't Talk Just Kiss. The band were, as ever, on it - musically tight and enjoying themselves, even as they ran the risk of losing skin to guitar strings with all the fretboard pummelling going on.

The onstage banter turned to the topic of guitar effects pedals. Mentioning his co-guitarist, Gedge said "Rachel's got a pedal-board as wide as a car; I've got two sounds: clear and LOUD!" Being self-effacing as ever, he neglected to mention that he can wring a huge amount of noise and emotion from these two settings. And he proceeded to do so throughout the set, especially during my fave Weddoes song I Am Not Going To Fall In Love With You, which was just stunning.

The increasingly-voluble Gedge then introduced the band and ran through the various other bands they've played for and their Top Of The Pops appearances. Apparently, the bass player had been on TOTP with Gomez, while the drummer had appeared on TOTP with 6 (!) different bands.

"This could be the start of  a new feature" Gedge chuckled before Rachel revealed she'd played on TOTP with the winner of the BBC's Fame Academy, Alex Parks. ( Nobody there seemed to know who that was, but a quick Google afterwards showed that Parks didn't exactly have the best time in her brief career as a pop star, unfortunately. )

The set climaxed with some old favourites like Kennedy and Nobody's Twisting Your Arm, with the band bowing out after a ferocious Brassneck. Sarah was only mildly impressed ( she thought TWP's sound was too samey, which I can totally understand, if not necessarily agree with ) but I thought it was a terrific gig, and I'll definitely see them again, given the chance.

And the very next night saw us back in the good ol' Guildhall again. It really is our home from home. And my old friend Glenn ( of Borrowed Time fame ) came along with us - in fact he still owes me for the ticket...

This time, we managed to catch the support band, Blue Violet, and we were glad we did because they were great!

Before they came on stage, the PA was blaring out The Four Tops' cheesy old hit, Loco In Acapulco, which seemed an odd choice. Then out came BV's Sarah in the T-shirt pictured and it all made sense. Blue Violet are a very confident, sassy band, their sound a compelling mix of indie-pop and Goth, with Sarah throwing some very Debbie Harry-inspired shapes, as you can see above. Synth-y and sensual, their music instantly hooked the crowd, who reacted to them as if they were the headliners. I'll definitely have to catch them again: they've got a new album out in January, so I imagine they'll be out on the road again soon.

And then it was time for one of the most underrated bands of the Britpop era, Echobelly...

Glenn and I had last seen Sonya Madden and her band waaaaay back in 1996 (!) at the Phoenix Festival, so we were well overdue to catch them again. They started the set with the bouncy hymn to solipsism I Can't Imagine The World Without Me and proceeded to fling more Britpop bangers at us. Car Fiction and Father, Ruler, King, Computer had us partying like Tony Blair was still PM. And that's pretty wild, kids! Sonya still had that breathy vocal style and twinkle in the eye that could reduce grown men ( and some women, no doubt ) to pools of jelly. The band, while not strictly the same group I'd seen in a field in Warwickshire all those years ago, were razor sharp and fully in control.

It was all going so well... but then Sonya introduced a song by saying "This one's about bulimia." Awkward silence time. She glared at the audience and said "Look it up." There was a definite feeling of being lectured to, and I think we all felt uncomfortable. No doubt this was a subject that Sonya feels strongly about ( personal experience, perhaps? ) but I shouldn't think there were many in the crowd who didn't know what bulimia is -  most of us were of a certain age, you might say, so have been around the block a few times. It was a definite buzzkill and it took another couple of songs before the atmosphere picked back up. ( It hadn't helped that, after Sonya had said "Look it up", a bloke behind us said "Bring it up"  -  not good. )

About midway through the set, most of the band left the stage, leaving just Sonya and the OG guitarist ( another Glenn ) to play a couple of semi-acoustic numbers. These were an excellent showcase for her beautiful vocals and were just sublime.

At one point, Ms. Madden remarked "You're all so polite. Thirty years ago, we'd be breaking up fights down the front." ( I think a few of us would be too worried about putting our backs out these days, to be honest. ) Then she said "Do you want to sing?" and, oh yes, we did sing as the band blasted out their most recognisable, biggest hit Great Things. And it was great. They finally encored with an anthemic King Of The Kerb ( I still haven't got a clue what that song's all about ), a cover called Giving It All ( from the Echobelly side-project Calm Of Zero ) and an epic Dark Therapy, which finished the night on a triumphant high. Even allowing for that bulimia reference and some moments of spikiness from La Madden, it had been an excellent set and I'm glad I finally caught up with Echobelly after nearly three decades. ( Gulp! )

And, if you're talking 1990s, it doesn't get much more '90s than those boys from the Forest Of Dean, the rave-tastic EMF...

So, the 12th of December saw a just-recovering-from-a-throat-infection Sarah and I heading to Cheltenham ( Gloucester's posh neighbour ) and the county's newest music venue, The Steam and Whistle. This is the pub formerly known as The Midland Hotel, opposite Cheltenham's train station. I wasn't sure that this place would be big enough for The Meff, but it has almost Tardis-like properties as a virtually hidden door takes you down a steep flight of steps into an underground lair bar / hall, with a capacity of about 250 /300. On closer inspection, the pub is actually built into a bank and this is the lower level with a small courtyard outside. ( Pay attention, there'll be a test later. )

This gig was the first time I'd seen EMF in 12 (!) years, almost to the day that they had played their first two albums, back to back, in ( where else? ) the Gloucester Guildhall, filmed for posterity as the Long Live The New Flesh DVD. Obviously not quite as large a gap as the Echobelly situation, but I was well overdue to see the band, especially since they've recorded a couple of new albums in the meantime and have virtually returned to full-time gigging.

There was quite a buzz ahead of the set, as Sarah and I wormed our way through the tightly-packed crowd, to a spot about four rows from the front. Unusually for a rock gig, EMF had an introduction by a fully-gowned, bell-ringing town crier. This was Jer Holland, the official town crier for the band's hometown of Cinderford, who had also been instrumental in getting a blue plaque erected for EMF in the town. After his "Oh yez, oh yez, oh yez" routine, with many humorous mentions to the FOD, the band came on stage to a rapturous reception and asked "Is there anyone here from the Forest?" - the roar that followed kind of confirmed that.

Despite some sound / technical issues ( "Were so professional" said James Atkin as he wrestled with his microphone ), the band were on top form and soon had the audience partying like it was 1990. They started with newie The Day The Music Died, then it was straight on to the classic singles Lies and I Believe, and everybody was now dancing. The newly-minted anthem Reach For The Lasers was a lovely tribute to the old rave days, with glow-sticks ahoy ( Sarah was gutted that she'd forgotten hers ) and James reading out a list of inspirational DJs  -  Carl Cox, Annie Mac, Don Letts, Frankie Knuckles etc  -  which ended with a rabble-rousing crowd chant for the late Andy Weatherall. James said "We're too old to party now, we just sing about it." Somehow, I don't quite, er, believe that...

Which, by a staggering coincidence ( not really ) leads us into *the hit*, Unbelievable. This was as manic as ever, with the whole venue going bananas and bouncing around like a plate of jelly on a trampoline. Or something. It was crazy, man. Long Hot Summer Nights was a more chilled out number, suiting the warm weather inside the venue, if not the chilly December night outside. My fave EMF song, Children, was an emotional epic and was very special indeed. They threw in a cheeky cover of Depeche Mode's I Just Can't Get Enough, which was great fun and emphasised the band's place in the lineage of great British sythnpop bands. They were due to head off to catch a ferry to Ireland for a gig in Cork, so Ian Dench was virtually dragging James off stage, but they gamely finished the set with another cover, the old Vic Reeves collaboration I'm A Believer, and fan favourite Inside.

After a bit of indecision, the band enchored with, of course, EMF itself  -  I mean, they had to play it for the ( almost ) hometown crowd. "Is Cheltenham in the Forest of Dean? Yes, we've decided it is tonight." Ian had been liberally spicing the set with the words "mother fucker" ( they're such polite boys! ), so their name-checking anthem was inevitable: "E! Ecstasy! M! Mother fucker, mother fucker!" Lovely. And with that, they were gone. ( Well, considering how rushed they were, I did see Derry in the bar about an hour later, still signing autographs. )

It had been a great evening, and I think I've converted Sarah into an EMF fan. After the gig we sat in the bar for a while with my work colleague, Fergus*, and his son Ethan. We had a lovely chat, mostly about bands and gigs, but Sarah was frustrated by how croaky her voice was, following the throat infection. Anyway, it was a cracking gig to finish off the year ( I doubt if I'll get any more in now ) and a pleasure to see the boys from the FOD again. Just don't ask who killed the bear.

* Last Friday, Fergus was sadly involved in a car crash. Some little twat in a flash car hit him headlong as he was driving to work. He's currently in hospital for Christmas, in quite a bad way. Get well soon, Fergus.

Recent(ish) gigs: Echo & The Bunnymen and The Beat

It's been a slow start for gigs for me this year, so I played catch-up last month with two cracking gigs and only one day of rest ( I didn't rest ) between them. First up: a Wednesday night in Bristol with Liverpool's legendary Echo & The Bunnymen.

The Bunnymen had only a few days before played a warm-up gig for this tour at my fave venue, the Gloucester Guildhall, but I'd only found out about it after it had sold out. Bugger! I quickly snapped up a couple of tickets for the newly refurbished and renamed Bristol Beacon ( formerly the Colston Hall ) and Sarah & I soon found ourselves heading down that familiar M5 route to the city of Aardman and Banksy.

My first impression of the Beacon was... wood. Lots of wood. Everything seemed to be wood-panelled, which was... nice, but a bit bland. They're obviously going for a very upmarket, concert hall vibe. Sarah pointed out that this was Bristol ( as said above, the city of cartoon critters and iconic graffiti ) so, she'd expected it to be a bit funkier. Oh, well! It was still cool to be there. We only caught a couple of songs from support act, violinist Erica Nockalls, but weren't too bothered, as what we heard was pretty dreary and tune-free. I'd been looking forward to seeing her, after catching her with Miles Hunt at the Gloucester Guildhall some years ago, and being impressed by her talent and statuesque image, but this performance drifted into the murkier backwaters of art rock and was just a big yawn.

But then it was Bunny Time. Sorry, that sounds too much like a CGI-ed kids' TV show. It was "Bunnymen" Time...

Mac and the boys played two sets, the first comprising deep cuts and new material, the second slanted more towards old favourites. They kicked off with two very Goth-y Crocodiles-era stompers, Going Up and All That Jazz, before they wheeled out the first big, singalong anthem of the night with Rescue, and a cracking new song called Brussels Is Haunted. Not sure how accurate that statement is, but we'll believe them. All My Colours ( Zimbo ) and Never Stop were from the more pop-y end of their spectrum and were fun fun fun.

The first set ended with an immaculate version of Bring On The Dancing Horses - "Shiver and say the word..." - and the word was "loo break", which came in very handy for an audience of a certain age. Some of the punters seemed a bit non-plussed by this intermission ( wot, no choc-ices? ), but previous nights on this tour had apparently followed the same pattern. It was, however, a far cry from the time I saw The Dandy Warhols have a mid-set break in the Bristol O2 Academy and spark up some ciggies...

The second set saw the Bunnymen pleasing the hardcore fans with a pummelling Over The Wall, before an anthemic Seven Seas had us all "kissing the tortoise shell", and why not? And then a gorgeous Nothing Lasts Forever became a monster singalong as the song morphed into Walk On The Wild Side. Mac, who had been hilariously incomprehensible throughout, told us of his repertoire of accents: he can apparently do Scottish and Irish, but if he tries Brummie then nobody can understand him. Most of us agreed we can't understand him at the best of times. But, through the linguistic haze, he came across as somebody who loved the music and was thoroughly enjoying himself, albeit in his own too-cool-for-school, lugubrious way. The main set ended with an unstoppable duo of The Killing Moon and The Cutter, both absolutely euphoric. They encored with a sprightly Lips Like Sugar and then, after another gap in which a few people left for the last bus / train / camel home ( The house lights were still up! A rookie mistake ), a beautiful Ocean Rain to finish a superb evening.

Two nights later and we were in our aforementioned fave venue, Gloucester's gorgeous Guildhall, for a contrasting but equally fantastic gig. This time it was the turn of The Beat, bringing some Caribbean-via-Birmingham sunshine to our grey Shire. Our good friend Caz also came along and it was lovely ( as ever! ) to share the experience with her.

This was our second time of seeing The Beat minus legendary frontman, Rankin' Roger. It was five years to the month since Roger's sad and untimely passing, and it was still a wrench to realise he wasn't on stage. Happily, his son, Rankin' Jr, still carries the flag for his dad ( as one of their songs puts it ) and does a terrific job.

The Beat essentially played the same set we saw them do at the Wychwood Festival last year, but what a set! Kicking off with Stand Down Margaret, they instantly upped the energy levels in the venue by 1000% ( yeah, maths was never my strong point ) and soon had everybody dancing and grinning. Rankin' Jr was on winning form, hurtling around the stage, his passion and joy infectious, his shirt and waistcoat short-lived as he soon discarded those in the Beat-generated heat. For your dancing feet. Alreet?

As ever, a Beat set served to remind us just how many perfect pop songs the band had up their sleeves: Too Nice To Talk To, Hands Off... She's Mine, and their cover of Prince Buster's Rough Rider were all singalong, danceable treats. Carry The Flag, as mentioned above, was Jr's beautifully heartfelt tribute to his late dad, while Twist & Crawl was pure, old skool Ska magic. Complementing Rankin' Jr's livewire stage presence, the band themselves were on fine form, cooking up a heady brew of Ska and Reggae, with flavours of Jazz, and hints of Punk anger in the condemnations of the bad vibe merchants out there.

No Tears Of A Clown this time ( I don't think they played this at Wychwood either ) but the overwhelming positivity, the joyous calls for love and unity, and the red-hot music, more than made up for this. The final duo of an extended Ranking Full Stop, in all its stop/start glory, and ( of course! ) a final Mirror In The Bathroom ( pop perfection! ) finished the set in a sweat-drenched, smiling from ear to ear, kind of way. As expected, the encore was perennial set closer, Jackpot, a perfect end to the evening: "I'm sorry to say I'm on my way / Won't be back for many a day / So goodbye everybody"

 Well, that wasn't quite the end of the evening: most of the crowd moved on from the Guildhall and piled into the Cafe Rene, just down the road, for the "unofficial aftershow party", where we all danced to more Ska 'n' reggae classics into the small hours. A wonderful night!

End of year gigs: The Unthanks in Winter and a bunch of old punks

A couple of Wednesdays ago, Sarah and I met up with our good friend Tom in the People's Republic of Stroud (TM) for a very seasonal concert from Northumberland's finest, The Unthanks. The venue was The Sub Rooms ( formerly and formally The Subscription Rooms ), where I'd previously seen the likes of Tenpole Tudor, Buzzcocks and the Poison Girls. This time, however, the recently-restored ballroom wasn't hosting crusty Punk rockers ( more of them later! ) but some good old folkin' folk music. It was a very civilised affair: an all-seated venue with signs forbidding us from taking photos or filming the concert. At least this means you're spared more of my blurry gig photos...

Support came from Katherine Priddy, a young folk singer / guitarist with a gorgeous voice ( and face! ) and some gently confessional songs. Apparently, her recorded work features more instrumentation but, for this tour, it was just her and a guitar. She said the song Does She Hold You Like I Did? should feature some mariachi-type horns, but we'd just have to imagine them. Songs like that one and First House on the Left were quietly lovely and showcased Katherine's virtuoso guitar-playing, which really was something special to witness. Her set was a short, sweet treat and expertly set the scene for the main event.

The show was billed as "The Unthanks In Winter" and that was exactly what they delivered as all the songs were themed around Winter and Christmas, with familiar tunes and carols expertly weaved into the folk music, old and contemporary. The band's instruments included saxophone, fiddle and vibraphone, and many of the 8-piece ensemble swapped instruments throughout the evening. The music ebbed and flowed, from joyous to melancholy, taking in echoes of jazz and classical, always impeccably played and with a lovely, counterintuitively warm sound. Of course, the main feature of the show was the gorgeous sound of Rachel and Becky Unthank's voices. Their Tyneside burr brings a naturalistic, conversational tone to their songs of love, work, family and history, and it was also a pleasure to hear them talk candidly about themselves, their music and their father, who is a huge influence on their career. 

At times they encouraged the audience to sing along, which many did with gusto, especially the woman sitting next to me who is apparently part of a choir. ( I kept quiet. ) Those more connected to the folk world would probably know which songs were new and which traditional, but I'm ignorant of such things, and thought they all sounded wonderful anyway. The sisters told us how cool they thought Stroud was, which obviously delighted the ageing-hipster "Stroudie" audience, as they're always up for some back-slapping. It was a lovely evening, with some fantastic, emotionally-charged music, only slightly marred by the bloody uncomfortable "school chairs" we had to sit on...

After the show, the sisters stood and talked to the punters as we filed out of the venue. Sarah spoke to Rachel, telling her they were "beautiful girls with beautiful voices"  -  can't argue with that. Sarah, Tom and I sloped off to The Lord John, Stroud's cheap 'n' cheerful Wetherspoons, for a post-gig catch-up and then we all headed for home. It was, after all, a school night...

As a total change of pace, we went to our beloved Gloucester Guildhall on Friday night to see legendary Gloucester punks Demob play their 45th anniversary celebration show. Lead "singer" Andy K came back from California for this one, and a load of old punks turned up in support. We picked up our friend Caz and roared into town for some rock 'n' roll action...

We missed the first band, The Youth Within, ( probably no great loss ) but were of course down the front dead on time for Stroud Disco Punks (TM), Chinese Burn! Ed from the Burn had got me in on the guest list, so it was the least we could do ;-)

Chinese Burn surprised absolutely no-one by being the best band of the night. Their melodic R&B-inflected Pop Punk was as fun as ever, and the short set meant they played ( most of ) their best songs with a minimum of fuss. I hadn't seen them for a few years so it was an absolute pleasure to catch them yet again. Ben emotionally dedicated the set to the late, great Shane MacGowan who passed away recently, which was a lovely touch. They closed with the epic Defending Stalingrad, which I still think has one of the greatest lyrics I've ever heard from a Punk band, famous or otherwise.

Next up were Cheltenham "Horror Punks" The Screaming Dead, a local band who've seemingly been going forever but whom I've strangely never seen. They were average Goth fare, entertaining enough but not too memorable. I did remark to Sarah that the singer looked like Alice Cooper if he'd been dead in a river for a couple of weeks... which was probably a bit harsh.

At last, Demob themselves hit the stage, following a video about the band by my mate Glenn, which was sadly a failure as one of the Guildhall techies had turned the sound off. Oops! Demob kicked off in true Street Punk style with early-80s anthem Anti-Police, its lyrics about police brutality still sadly relevant. They pounded out their meat 'n' potatoes, no frills Punk with a surprisingly ferocious energy for a band who hadn't played together for a couple of years and had had only one practice. Never the most subtle of bands, Demob can still be relied on for some raw, angry music, and certainly got the crowd going nuts down the front. I definitely enjoyed this kind of thing more when I was about 16, but it was fun to relive the days of Teenage Adolescence, to quote another Demob song title. After their best song No Room For You, the set kind of fizzled out but I think Andy and the boys ( including half of Borrowed Time ) did themselves proud and certainly pulled the biggest crowd I can remember them having. After the gig I asked Andy how his California accent was coming along  -  he said he's still a Gloucester boy at heart: "You can take the boy out of the Shire, but you can't take the Shire out of the boy."

It was a good night out with some great music, and some half-decent music, but mostly it was lovely to catch up with a whole load of people I hadn't seen in ages. A great evening to round out what has been an outstanding year for live gigs.

The Wedding Present at the Gloucester Guildhall

( Just over ) a week ago ( trust this blog to always be current ), Sarah and I returned to our favourite venue, Gloucester's Guildhall, to catch indie legends The Wedding Present on their 24 Songs Tour. We hadn't seen TWP since they'd supported The Cure at The Great British Music Weekend at Wembley Arena, waaaaay back in 1991, so it was a long-overdue catch-up. ( In fact, it was so long ago that Sarah couldn't even remember seeing them before. ) This was a last-minute decision, with me managing to buy tickets on the day, which turned out to be a great decision...

First of all, we had to enjoy endure support band West Wickhams. A Gothic synth / guitar duo who came across as mature students playing navel-gazing whinge-pop they'd written thirty years ago but had only just got round to performing, they were embarrassing in the extreme. The singer's Emo Phillips - cosplaying- as- Robert Smith persona turned the venue into one big cringe, while the keyboard player's dominatrix death stare was about as convincing as Skeletor's. ( On a purely superficial note, though, she was wearing a very short dress with fishnet stockings, which gave me something to look at whilst waiting for the set to end. That sexist interlude was brought to you by the 1970s. ) It was surprising that a band as successful as The Weddoes ( yes, people really call them that ) had taken such a hopeless group on tour with them... but maybe it was just charity.

It wasn't long, however, for the main event as David Gedge and the latest iteration of The Wedding Present came out to blast our ears off. ( TWP's ever-changing lineups reminds me of the late Mark E Smith's comment about The Fall - something like "If it's just me and yer granny on the bongos, it's still The Fall." ) ( Oh yeah... more brackets required here... the photos above are nicked from The Weddoes' Twitter page and the blurry ones below are, of course, mine. Curse you, Samsung! )

Gedge first of all said how glad he was to be back in Gloucester after many years ( TBH I didn't realise they'd been here before ) then they powered into opening song, Broken Bow. Like many of their songs this shot past in a blur and then David was telling us that they'd just come back from touring in Spain where they'd been wearing shorts in 25 degree heat but now they were back in chilly England feeling the cold and this next song's title should be in kilometres but it isn't but you might get the reference anyway let's go...

Phew! Yes, it almost felt like an indie Ramones set as TWP then hit us with a couple of early-career bangers in the form of A Million Miles and You Should Always Keep In Touch With Your Friends. Gedge and co-guitarist Rachel thrashed their way through these songs, seemingly unconcerned at the possibility of shredding their fingers as they pummelled their guitar strings, and set the full-on tone for the night's musical pyrotechnics. Introducing amorous anthem Loveslave, Gedge implored us not to watch the video for the song, and I can confirm his horror, because it shouldn't be watched under any circumstances. No... really... don't watch it.

I must admit to not being overly familiar with TWP's output but I was impressed with the quality of songs and how tight the band were - super tight and super fast. The energy and power they displayed would put many punk bands to shame but, of course, most "punks" ( and I know a few of the sort ) wouldn't touch an indie band with a bargepole. If they had a bargepole. Seriously, though, who actually owns bargepoles? People with barges I suppose. I clearly haven't thought this through. Anyway, the point is, they were frakking great! I was also very taken by Mr. Gedge's vocals. I remember the early Wedding Present songs as being very conversational, with the vocals almost spoken rather than sung, but Gedge now sings with an increased a range, which certainly suits some of the slower material. Yes, occasionally they slowed down the frenetic pace and the likes of Palisades ( an "intense song" in the words of Mr. G ) benefited from this approach, as the band and singer could stretch out more and let the music breathe.

Set highlight for me was the epic, emotional Science Fiction, a break-up song ( and TWP have a few of those! ) which uses alien invasions and suchlike as a metaphor for relationships crashing, and sees Gedge in vulnerable form as he casts his mind back to happier days. A wonderful, gorgeous song which has swiftly become a fave for me. This was followed by Everyone Thinks He Looks Daft, another ( you guessed it! ) break-up song. Sarah thought the 1980s-style school lingo of Gedge's introduction to this song was hilarious, as he described being "packed in" by somebody and, as if that wasn't bad enough, being replaced by someone who "looked ridiculous", hence the title.

Another late set instant classic was I'm Not Going To Fall In Love With You, a beautifully poppy song about denying reality as you slide down the slippery slope into romance. Or something. Anyway, it's gorgeous, and prompted me to buy the 24 Songs CD after the gig from Mr. Gedge himself.

 After this song, David asked "Any questions?" and a couple of women in the crowd called out for My Favourite Dress. His response, with a sly smile, was: "We don't do requests. What do you think I am? A jukebox? Anyway, here's My Favourite Dress..."

They finished the set with a ferocious cover of Come Up And See Me ( Make Me Smile ) and a fan-pleasing duo of Kennedy ( "Too much apple pie!" ) and Granadaland. No encores, as they'd warned us, but still a rousing finish to a frenetic, fast and fun performance. Definitely one of my gigs of the year, I came out of it a Wedding Present fan, determined to search out more of their music. Not bad for a wintery night in the Shire!

Update: Sarah's just told me that, even though she enjoyed the gig, she didn't find any of the songs memorable and couldn't understand a word David Gedge was singing. You win some, you lose some...