( 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...
One blog post, three contrasting nights out in the fair city of Bristol.
Night One: Weyes Blood at SWX ( 09/02/23 )
Night Two: Underworld at the Marble Factory ( 19/03/23 )
Night Three: The King & I at the Bristol Hippodrome ( 31/03/23 )
I'd first heard Natalie Mering aka Weyes Blood on one of those Best Of Year compilation CDs from either Mojo or Uncut magazine at the end of 2022. The song was It's Not Just Me, It's Everybody - a smoothly beautiful, queasy-listening song with a very '70s vibe and some strange undercurrents. When I heard Mering's In Holy Flux Tour was coming to Brizzle I immediately asked my good friend Tom if he'd be interested and he ( even more immediately ) snapped up a couple of tickets. Leaves fell from the trees, pages were ripped from calendars etc. and February rolled round, like it usually does, often soon after January. Tom picked me up and we headed off for an apparently uneventful trip to Bristol. I say "apparently" because he found out later that he'd fallen foul of Bristol's new Clean Air Zone and had to pay a whopping fine. Oops!
We found a handy parking spot, just near the site of the late, lamented Bristol Bierkeller, and joined the throng inside SWX. The support act was country / folk singer Sam Burton who specialises in an early-'70s-style, Laurel Canyon throwback sound, reminiscent of the likes of James Taylor or Al Stewart. He went down well with the audience but I found his songs a bit dull and his vocals monotonous. By contrast, Burton's co-vocalist / harmony vocalist, Lady Apple Tree ( aka Haylie Hostetter ) stepped up to sing her own single Didn't Want To Have To Do It and completely overshadowed him. One to watch.
And then it was headliner time. Weyes Blood came out onto the stage with Natalie Mering looking positively angelic in a long white dress. The first song was the aforementioned It's Not Just Me, It's Everybody which seems, like much of her And In The Darkness, Hearts Aglow album, to be about the pandemic or more precisely the post-pandemic experience. When Natalie sings, in her beautiful voice, we can all relate to the mixed-up emotions in this song: "Living in the wake of overwhelming changes / We've all become strangers / Even to ourselves"
And, what a voice! Her vocals have a deep, rich, mellifluous timbre and are perfectly enunciated. I did wonder if Mering could pull off the smooth sound and loooong notes of the first song but she did that perfectly and continued to do so for the rest of the set. The band, too, were excellent, hitting a very laid back FM radio/AOR groove which seemed appropriate on the day we heard the king of easy-listening, Mr. Burt Bacharach, had departed for that glitzy supper club in the sky.
More wonderful, baroque pop followed with Children Of The Empire and Something To Believe before a set highlight of the beatific God Turn MeInto A Flower ( Tom's favourite ) stunned us all with its ethereal otherworldliness.
Alongside all this high-falutin' musical loveliness, Natalie Mering was also frank and funny in her repartee with the audience. Like most artists I've seen since the winding down of the pandemic, she talked about her happiness to be back out performing again and wittily acknowledged that she knows she talks in a goofy manner on stage and then plays melancholic, strange songs. Of course, that's fine with us. I've described her style as "Karen Carpenter singing a David Lynch movie" and I'll stand by that. After more fantastic songs massaged our ears - The Worst Is Done ( more pandemic comedown blues ), the almost-mainstream pop of Grapevine, and the crowd-pleasing Andromeda, Mering finished the set with the haunting Hearts Aglow... with her heart literally aglow:
Okay, it was some kind of prosthetic heart underneath her dress and my photo doesn't really do it justice, but it was a beautiful effect and was a perfect touch for a collection of songs so full of heart.
After a couple of encore songs she was gone like a spectre in the night but we all knew we'd just witnessed something very special.
Five weeks later, I was back in Bristol again, this time in a very different venue for a very different type of gig. I'm often guilty of hearing that a particular band is touring but not being quick enough in getting tickets. Not in this case. Once I'd heard legendary dance duo Underworld were playing the first night of their tour in good old Brizzle, I was straight on the case and snapped up two tickets. I'd wanted to see Underworld for years but they tend to mostly play festivals so I hadn't caught them before. The venue, The Marble Factory, was new to me so I was interested to give it a go.
Sarah and I found our way to one of the less well-known areas of Bristol which seems to be a wasteland of demolished factories and warehouses waiting to be renovated. On the plus side it meant there was free on-street parking but, give it a couple of years, and I'm sure gentrification will mean plebs like us won't be welcome. The Marble Factory itself is a very cool venue, a huge industrial slab of concrete and brick, formerly a skate-park ( very Bristol! ) but now an events space which hosts the club, Motion. It has a capacity of 1600 people and it was easily at capacity on that Sunday evening. I mean, it was rammed. You probably couldn't get a glow-stick between the bodies of the ravers down the front. Sarah and I wormed our way into the edge of the crowd and then Rick Smith and Karl Hyde came on stage to the burbling synth pulse of new song Gene Pool. Well, I assume they came on stage: we couldn't actually see them or really much of anything but the rapturous response from the crowd clued us in that something was indeed happening. As an opening number its spacey, hypnotic groove was a great start to the set, reminding me of The Chemical Brothers circa Surrender, with a hint of a melody from the Bunnymen's The Cutter occasionally surfacing.
From there on, the boys were off and running with a hugely welcome airing for the evergreen Juanita, which I'd been subjecting Sarah to on the drive down the M5. This was actually Juanita 2022, a slightly tweaked version of the original which had recently been released as two separate mixes, showing Underworld never rest on their laurels. In fact, nobody could rest that night as they pumped out one dancefloor banger after another. A monumental Mmm... Skyscraper, I Love You was followed by another new track, Denver Luna, a four-to-the-floor, ravetastic future classic, which had everyone bouncing.
We'd climbed up onto the balcony by this point where we had a slightly better view, even though Karl Hyde was still mostly obscured, as he spent a lot of time dancing behind Smith and his decks. The sound though was fantastic as we were in line with the PA and the music cut through the dry ice like a knife.
Actually, the dry ice and packed conditions were a bit too much for Sarah who ducked outside for a while after another couple of songs. I stayed inside but kept going out to check on her. It's often difficult at gigs when she feels overwhelmed by it all, especially when seeing bands she doesn't know too well. I found myself at the back of the hall by the mixing desks and actually got a half decent view by hanging off a rail (!) and somehow managed to groove along to a piledriving King Of Snake and the one!two! punch of Rez / Cowgirl. ( "Everything! Everything!" ) Sarah had luckily come back in at this point and was in time for the set-closing Born Slippy NUXX which was epic! It had been a cracking gig but I'd like to see them again and actually see them.
Our next trip to Bristol was last weekend when we went to the beautiful Hippodrome to see a performance of The King And I. ( Yes, this show was really for Sarah, but I was happy to go along. ) The 1956 movie version, starring the immortal pairing of Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr, is one of Sarah's all-time favourite films, so this new production starring Helen George ( of Call The Midwife fame ) had a lot to live up to. After a drive down to Bristol in some torrential downpours we got to the Hippodrome and climbed up the mountainous stairs to the upper circle. The view was pretty good, considering how high up we were, but the bench seats were torturous. I've got a dodgy back at the moment ( the old, reoccurring lower back pain ) and this wasn't the best thing for it really. Oh, well!
The show itself was very good: the performances, costumes, sets and music were all excellent, as we'd expect from any show at the Hippodrome. Sarah loved it and was over the moon that it hadn't been a let down after her high expectations. To be honest, this kind of show isn't really my thing and I certainly don't have the attachment to the story that Sarah has, but I definitely enjoyed it, and was impressed with Helen George ( who has a fantastic singing voice ) and Darren Lee ( the King of Siam ) who exuded all the charm, authority and charisma the role demands. After the show we went for a late night pizza then headed back to our hotel. We were staying in the Marriott Royal which is a sumptuous Victorian hotel and was a lovely place to hang out in. After checking out the next morning we had a day in Bristol and, luckily, the weather was kinder to us. A good day. Here's Sarah, outside the hotel:
At the height of the pandemic and the lockdowns, the things I missed most from the pre-Covid world were seeing friends, browsing in book and record shops, and going to the cinema / gigs. With the slow return to ( a kind of ) normality I've come back to all of these things except for gigs. Being in a venue packed with sweaty strangers drinking and jumping about seemed a recipe for disaster. Apart from seeing The Skids at the Gloucester Guildhall last year ( which was nerve-wracking enough ) the last two years have been a live music drought for me which has been very tough. ( Okay, I know a lot of people have suffered *much* more than this and it's inconsequential really but bear with me. ) But a while back I thought that as most people had now been triple-jabbed and we were heading out of the Winter it may be safer to do that sort of thing. I had a ticket to see EMF at The Fleece in Bristol a couple of months back, was all set to go, and then - guess what? - I caught bloody Covid! Yep, after two years of avoiding it the damn virus caught up with me and Sarah. We were both pretty rough for a couple of days with flu-like symptoms and then just generally felt tired for a while. ( So glad we've been vaccinated, it could have been a lot worse. ) Unfortunately the very last day I tested positive was the day of the EMF gig so I had to miss it. Gutted.
Aaanyway, a few weeks later my mate Glenn asked me if I wanted to go and see The Mission in Bristol - he'd got on the guest list for the support band, The Rose Of Avalanche. I'd never been a fan of The Mish ( or any Goth bands really, except The Cure ) but I thought it could be fun... plus, free tickets... :-)
So, on a balmy Thursday night I went straight from work to pick up Glenn, Cliff and Pob ( don't ask ) from Pob's crack-den flat in Stroud and we headed down the M5 to Brizzle. It felt strange but exciting to do the old, familiar route into Bristol to the O2 Academy - even the perennially piss-scented Frogmore Street car park felt like a welcome place to walk through... whilst holding your nose. We got to the venue and Glenn ushered us in because he didn't want to miss The Rose Of Avalanche. Fair enough. But the one thing I did miss was food ( we'd planned to get something to eat on the way but didn't ) so the sound of my grumbling stomach almost drowned out the bands. Almost.
TROA ( as nobody calls them ) came across as a bunch of middle-aged blokes who work in a local branch of B&Q but like to rock out at weekends when there's no football on the telly. They made a decent sound but were lacking in chemistry or stage presence, apart from the lead guitarist who merrily pulled Rawk shapes stage-left and probably wished he was playing with the headliners. The almost-epic LA Rain was the best song in the set and its Lou-Reed-goes-Goth bite hinted at the less-mannered band they probably were once.
As the venue began to fill up we headed up to the balcony where there was a bit more space. I've always been one for getting down the front at gigs but the spectre of Covid had kind of put me off being a part of the mosh-pit ( at least up to that point ) and I was quite happy to watch the show from above, even though it meant my usually-blurry gig photos are even worse than expected. The Mission came on stage to a rabid response, instantly setting out their stall with the atmospheric intro of Beyond The Pale and, by the time they'd moved on to the windswept singalong of Hands Across The Ocean, I was hooked. I'd always thought The Mish were a bit corny but the unabashed, strictly non-ironic melodrama of their songs was actually irresistible and I soon realised that I'd been too snobbish in my assessment of their abilities. It was Epic Goth Rock and it was huge fun.
They brought out the big guns as Butterfly On A Wheel, Wasteland and Deliverance finished the main set. Returning for some deep-dive encore songs for the faithful, The Mission finished with a huge singalong of Tower Of Strength ( of course ) and I shouldn't think a single black-clad urban cowboy or girl left the venue disappointed. As a proper return to gigs this had been a fun experiment, far more enjoyable than I'd expected, and made me think that, yes, I could get back to this stuff...
Looking at the above photo you may be thinking "Another gig, another old guy in a flowery shirt" and you may well be right... except this old ( not that old ) guy was the legendary Robyn Hitchcock. Yep, The Man Who Invented Himself was back in the UK for a brief tour and - hooray! - was playing my home town of Gloucester. And the venue was my home-from-home, the Guildhall Arts Centre. All in all, a no-brainer, a must-see. The last time I had seen Robyn was way back in the PPE ( Pre-Pandemic Era ) year of 2015 at Bristol's Fleece, the review of which can be perused here ( should you wish to of course ) so it was great to catch him again. After heading into the main hall and discovering it was, unusually, a seated event ( the only seated gig I'd seen there before was a very subdued Lambchop performance many, many years ago ) I sat myself down to watch support act, Jessica Lee Morgan...
JLM captivated the audience with some wonderfully melodic acoustic-indie-folk tunes and a warm, conversational onstage persona. Assisted by her partner, Christian Thomas, on bass and occasional vocals, she sang some impressively affecting songs of love and female empowerment in her clear, richly-toned voice, and told some surprisingly confessional stories of the music business, mental health and her experiences of lockdown. Definitely worth seeking her out again.
And then it was time for The Man With The Lightbulb Head himself, Mr. Robyn Rowan Hitchcock.
Robyn was on fine, mischievous form - slightly more chatty than the last time I'd seen him and clearly happy to be touring in the UK again. Happily, he started the set with two of my favourite songs, the lovely Raymond Chandler Evening ( from the excellent Element Of Light album ) and the macabrely* funny My Wife And My Dead Wife ( "Am I the only one that sees her?" ), then went straight into the bracing Soft Boys classic Only The Stones Remain. ( Non ) hit after ( non ) hit! Great stuff!
( *Is "macabrely" a word? It is now. )
Things went alternately dark ( The Abyss ) and nostalgic ( I Often Dream Of Trains ) and Robyn even got his old harmonica out for a blast - referencing Dylan as ever, Robyn remarked that His Bobness always sounded "ineffably sexy" when playing said mouth instrument, "which is where we differ." For the second half of the set, Robyn's old band mate from The Egyptians, Morris Windsor joined him on stage for a few songs, including a spine-tingling take on The Lizard. ( Apparently Morris lives in Gloucester so there was some banter about this particular corner of the West Country, especially about the legendary Wall's Ice Cream factory and the quality of choc ices over the years. ) Jessica and Christian also joined in for the triumphant last two songs, Brenda's Iron Sledge ( of course! ) and QueenOf Eyes. I spoke to JLM at the merchandise stall after the gig and asked her how much fun it was to play those tunes - she confirmed it was a blast, and then she flogged me her CD, Forthright ..."because it's my fourth, right?" Well, I couldn't say no because her music's great and she's just charming. I also bought Somewhere Apart, a collection of Hitchcock's lyrics, so, a great night all round.
Moving on to July now, and what is probably going to be my Gig Of The Year ( I really can't see anyone else beating it ) - the amazing St Vincent at the Oxford O2 Academy!!! ( !!! )
When I first heard St Vincent was touring I thought it would be great to see her but none of the venues seemed affordable or practical for me, but then a low-key warm up to the tour was added in Oxford - result! I contacted my mate Tom who was equally keen to head to the city of dreaming spires for some '70s-inflected art pop. I picked him up outside some public toilets ( steady! ) in Burford and we headed to Oxford, had a quick drink in a local Bohemian watering-hole then, after dealing with an annoying ticket mix-up found ourselves in the steaming-hot venue formerly known as the Oxford Zodiac. The support was a French comedienne (!) whose name I sadly can't remember, and due to a combination of poor sound and the millennial-targeted patter I didn't hear or "get" much of her act. Sorry. There then followed a seemingly-interminable wait until the strains of Jermaine Jackson's Daddy's Home heralded the arrival of Annie Clark and The Down & Out Downtown Band. Annie sauntered onto the stage in a waitress outfit and raincoat... or did she? This was actually a lookalike who moved over to the keyboards before the real St Vincent ( if there is a real St Vincent ) appeared, looking archly puzzled. This fun piece of theatricality reminded me of a similar stunt I saw Jarvis Cocker pull at a Pulp gig many years ago and set the tone for the night...
The Daddy's Home album had been inspired by the '70s music Annie had heard her father playing when she was growing up, so it had a smooth, Steely Dan / FM rock sound, far away from the more electronic sounds we've come to expect from St Vincent. And, of course, that was the sound she was going for on this tour, right? Well, not really. After the set-opening, funked-up take on Digital Witness things got brutal as bruising versions of Down and Birth In Reverse pummelled our ears and it was clear this was going to be a heavy, heavy monster sound with some serious "axe" duels between Annie and multi-talented guitarist Jason Falkner. I think this was a level of sonic heaviosity that Tom wasn't prepared for but I think he still enjoyed it. Me, I was hooked.
The band were on fire as they cranked up the noise and funked up the, er, funk of the likes of Sugarboy and ( my favourite ) Los Ageless. Each member got their chance to shine and the Supremes-like backing singers in particular were fantastic. Before a sassy, sensual shimmy through Pay Your Way In Pain, Annie introduced the band as "fucking motherfuckers who can throw down in any way, shape or form and are good fucking people, man." Indeed. There were a lot of f-bombs to come as a visibly overcome and very hot Annie ( wiping her cleavage down with napkins - swoon! ) went on to say:
" I wanna give a 'Hello' and a special 'Thanks' to everyone here who's male, female, non-binary, trans, queer in any way, shape or form, all of you - we love you! I feel very lucky and I don't mean that in a fucking corny-ass fucking Instagram 'hashtag blessed' kind of way ( let's put that out there ) but, man, I'm fucking lucky that I get to do this thing and play music for everybody. I know there's a bunch of fucking writers and musicians and artists in this crowd and to you I say: just fucking go for it, man! Fucking do it, do it, we need you."
After fully introducing the band she went on to say "When I was young I admired people who are smart and now that I'm... 23 ( *laughter from crowd* ) I admire people who are fucking kind."
After all the shit the world's been through in the last few years this speech, coupled with the realisation that, yes, we can get back to our lives ( those lucky enough to still be here ), well... it was very moving and so good to hear some positivity.
The set climaxed with a smoking hot take on The Melting Of The Sun, and we really were melting by this point. Annie and the band finished this tribute to her musical heroines with a beautiful acapella outro ( which you can watch below ) and then they were gone. Just a stunning gig, easily one of the best I've seen in many years, if not ever.
How do you follow that slice of awesomeness? Well, how about some retro Norwegian synth-pop in a Welsh castle?
Before I met Sarah, when she was a teenager and just before her weekend-Goth years, she was a huge fan of Norway's A-ha... yes, the band who did that song, you know the one, they only had the one hit didn't they? ( Of course, I'm being facetious here: that tends to be the reaction most people have when you mention A-ha. ) She had kind of moved on from the band but, when I heard recently that they were on tour, I convinced her that we should go and see her former teen idols. They were scheduled for a few gigs in the UK earlier in the year but lead singer Morten Harket contracted laryngitis and they had to cancel some dates. We were concerned their Cardiff gig ( in Cardiff Castle itself ! ) might also be scrapped but luckily he had recovered by that point. So, we headed down the M4 for a couple of days in the lovely Welsh capital.
Cardiff Castle is a fantastic venue for outdoor gigs and we were lucky that the weather was perfect too, see photo above. After nabbing a spot as close to the stage as we could we listened to a DJ spinning a few '80s choons ( mostly of the non-shit variety luckily ) before support band The Christians came on.
We hadn't been sure there would even be a support band as there'd been no publicity prior to the gig. The Christians were one of those MOR '80s pop groups that I'd quite liked at the time but hadn't really thought about in the millennia since then. ( I think that's right? ) Anyway, they turned out to be a fine live act, still pretty slick but with some socially-conscious bite in their lyrics and a nice line in dry, Liverpudlian wit from front man Garry Christian. I'd forgotten just how many pop-soul bangers they had in their repertoire: Hooverville, Forgotten Town, Ideal World and When The Fingers Point all sounding fresh and inspirational. And then, just as the sun went down, it was time for the main event:
A-ha ( the band plus backing musicians ) came on stage and began playing the ( fairly rocky for them ) Sycamore Leaves and then.... Morton! Morton was here! Hundreds of middle-aged women began to lose their minds. I said to Sarah: "Look! He's real!" She was too busy happy-crying to kick me up the arse but she probably should have.
A-ha ran through a compelling set of melodic synth-pop, concentrating on their debut album Hunting High & Low but dropping in other songs from throughout their career, and even including a cover of Carole King's Crying In The Rain. ( They have a lot of meteorological songs of their own, often dealing with rain, which is probably why we Brits appreciate them. )
There were some massive singalongs to Cry Wolf ( "Awooo!" ), a haunting Hunting High & Low itself and a set-closing, Bond-tastic The Living Daylights. Morten was fairly taciturn throughout, letting one of The Other Two handle most of the interaction with the crowd, but he was a calmly charismatic figure and his voice was on top, almost operatic, form - hitting some crazily long notes which hardly seemed possible for somebody who had recently beaten laryngitis.
After an encore of a hugely crowd-pleasing take on The Sun Always Shines On TV and a for-the-real-fans I've Been Losing You, the band finished with, of course, The Song...
Yep, a seismic shockwave hit the centre of Cardiff as the assembled masses of A-ha fanatics sang, shouted, cried and wailed along to Take On Me, while the iconic Steve Barron-directed video played out behind the band. It was a lovely moment and a perfect ending to a great gig, not one I would have expected to enjoy as much as I did... but I really did. Sarah, of course, was over the moon at seeing her teen idols in the flesh and at rededicating her life to the church of A-ha. ( Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating here. I know - who would have thought it? ) The band returned to the fjords ( probably ) and we returned to our hotel, after a quick junk-food fix somewhere on the mean streets of Cardiff. It had been a great day, a fun and surprisingly emotional gig, and the weather had been beautiful. In Wales no less!
That's me all caught up with my gig-going from this year so far ( apart from catching my old Borrowed Time mates playing a charity gig on the back of a lorry in a field ) and it feels like it's taken half the year just to write it all down. Hopefully, if Covid doesn't rear its ugly head too much over the next few months, I should be able to get to a few more gigs and witter on about them on this 'ere blog. Fingers crossed!
Day 23 ( the last week! ) A song you think everybody should listen to
A classic, caustic dissection of the UK by Punk's most underrated songwriter, TV Smith, which still unfortunately resonates today: "The great British mistake was looking for a way out / Was getting complacent / Not noticing the pulse was racing / The mistake was fighting the change / Was staying the same / We couldn't adapt so we couldn't survive / Something had to give / The people took a downhill slide / Into the gloom into the dark recesses of their minds" Day 24 A song by a band you wish were still together
Although I could have gone with an obvious, "classic" band ( Led Zep, REM etc ), instead here's one of my fave bands of recent years - The Sunshine Underground
Typically for me I discovered this band not long before they announced their split and, to make things worse, they were one of the few bands that Sarah and I both liked. Hopefully they'll get back together at some point - most groups seem to do this eventually, as the recent reunions for LCD Soundsystem and My Chemical Romance demonstrate. ( Okay, Covid-19 has delayed the much-anticipated MCR reunion but it's still apparently on the cards for next year if the world ever gets back to "normal" ) Day 25 A song you like by an artist no longer living
I was a big fan of Whitney's and it's just tragic that her life ended so prematurely. This is a wonderful remix of an old song that was a posthumous hit last year. Hard to believe this song was originally only a B-side as Whitney's vocals are amazing on this Steve Winwood cover. Day 26 A song that makes you want to fall in love
Perfect Skin by Lloyd Cole & The Commotions
"She's got cheekbones like geometry and eyes like sin" Who wouldn't want to fall in love with someone lik that? Oh, and she's "sexually enlightened by Cosmopolitan"? Can't have it all, I suppose... Day 27 A song that breaks your heart
Reminds me of a girl called Jo Day I had a major crush on at school. We kinda, nearly, almost went out but stayed "friends" and then she left for another school and I never saw her again... Day 28 A song by an artist whose voice you love
One of my fave modern artists, Annie Clark / St Vincent has a deceptively powerful voice, tough and tender at the same time, and is a true inheritor of the art-pop style of Bowie etc. Never quite figured out why she hasn't become a bigger star. Day 29 A song you remember from your childhood
Of course, there had to be an Abba song in here, and what a belter it is, a Glam stomp with the trademark Abba hooks and harmonies. My my! Day 30 A song that reminds you of yourself
Last day of the challenge and it's this self-explanatory tune from Glasgow's underrated Britpop songsmiths The Supernaturals Well, that was a lot of fun! I had talked about doing a film challenge next but, after discussions with my fellow Twitterers ( that's a word, okay? ), we've now decided to do a 30-Day Comic Challenge where we talk about our favourite super heroes, swamp monsters and slices of life from paper pamphlets of years gone by. Should be interesting... Hopefully after all that I'll get back to the film challenge. ( Sorry Paul McScotty! )
Up to my usual standards as ever, week three is a day late but ( hopefully ) worth it.
Okay, pop pickers, here we go with this week's rundown...
Day 15 - A song you like that's a cover by another artist One of my fave loud, weird bands ( Pixies ) covering another of my fave loud, weird bands ( Jesus &Mary Chain ) at 100 mph - not your John Lewis ad type of cover...
Head On by Pixies
Day 16 - A song that's a classic favourite This category's open to wide interpretation. I'm going way back with one of my fave songs from one of my fave movies
Singin' In The Rain by Gene Kelly
Day 17 - A song you'd sing a duet with someone on karaoke In the unlikely event this ever happened I'd go with ( Engage sarcasm mode. Sarcasm mode engaged. ) this romantic, classic duet from Husker Du - New Day Rising
Day 18 - A song from the year you were born Virtually impossible to pick just one song from 1966, pop's annus mirabilis ( Latin? at this time of day? ), but I'm going with this masterpiece from Tina Turner and Phil Spector. I mean, I could have picked songs from The Beatles, Stones, Temptations, Dylan, Byrds, Kinks, Supremes, Dusty, Wilson Pickett, Beach Boys, Four Tops... the list goes on...
River Deep Mountain High by Tina Turner
Day 19 - A song that makes you think about life Breathe by Pink Floyd from their emotional Live8 reunion in 2005
Just like Dave Gilmour here, I may have something in my eye
Day 20 - A song that has many meanings to you I'm cheating slightly here as it's technically more than one song. I wrote about Abbey Road and this song ( and my feelings for both ) on my old 15 Albums blog...
The "Long Medley" by The Beatles
Day 21 - A song you like with a person's name in the title Some folkin' folk music crossed with electronica. My first choice was See Emily Play by Pink Floyd but I've already posted a Floyd song. Plus I thought I should go with something more recent before this all turns into one big nostalgia fest
Jon Taylor's Month Away by King Creosote
My apologies for the different fonts on display here - I've copied and pasted some of this from my Twitter page and it doesn't fit too well. I wanted to get this post done today and not let things drag on for too long, so it's a bit rough 'n' ready. Unlike myself. I'm smooth as peaches and cream. That's gone through a blender. ( What am I talking about? Blame the lockdown ) I'll see if I can edit things when I get a minute...
Anyway, if anyone would like to take part and post some of their own fave songs in the comments that would be groovy, baby! See you next week pop pickerzzz.
My first gig in Bristol this year and it was a cracker! An exciting up-and-coming band, the long-awaited return of some old favourites and a triumphant headline set from Britpop legends.
After finishing work and experiencing a refreshingly easy and traffic jam-free journey down to Brizzle I hurriedly found myself something to eat and then high-tailed it to the O2 to catch ( most of ) the set by Thyla who were on at the ridiculously early time of 6:45 pm.
Thyla are an extremely promising young band who reminded me slightly of The Horrors - not that they sound a lot like them, but they have the same instinct for taking old genres ( Goth, shoegaze, '80s indie ) and giving them a modern twist. Although some of the songs seemed a bit lacking in the tune department, they were more than made up for with the urgency of the shimmering guitars and pounding, tribal drums. Front woman Millie Duthie sang like her life depended on it, her voice an ethereal cry from the heart ( if that's not a contradiction ), like a mixture of Liz Fraser and Kate Bush... but with hobnail boots on. ( Actually she wore some pristine white trainers with very thick soles. ) The last song, Pristine Dream - a strident denial of being pigeon-holed by male expectations - was a Banshees / early Cure -style stomper and is sure to propel them into the big leagues.
The next band were eagerly awaited by me and many others in the crowd for it was the return of Glasgow's former kings of melodic, melancholic indie-pop, The Supernaturals. I have to admit I never saw many of the Britpop bands back in the day because their rise coincided with my buying a house, starting a family, all those money- and time-consuming things which are lovely but don't leave you much opportunity to go out and watch bands. ( I think my list would only include Blur, Pulp, Echobelly, Catatonia, Longpigs, 3 Colours Red... maybe a couple of others ) But I did see The Supernaturals. Many times. In fact, they were something of a fave band at the time for myself and my mate Glenn and we always said we'd definitely catch them if they ever reformed. Unfortunately, Glenn couldn't make it to this show as he was gigging himself that night with the mighty Borrowed Time, but I knew I couldn't miss it.
The band shuffled on stage and started the set almost apologetically with the low-key hymn to "bitterness and inadequacy" Trees. Maybe not the most exciting of beginnings but the set slowly picked up as singer James McColl warmed to the audience ( and vice versa ) and the band unveiled classic pop song after classic pop song. The likes of Lazy Lover, Sheffield Song, Dung Beetle, LoveHas Passed Away and Smile brought a grin to every face and a chorus to everyone's lips. The 'Naturals were always masters at hiding biting and often melancholy lyrics inside catchy, deceptively bouncy guitar-pop and it was great to see they still had the knack. A mid-set highlight was lesser-known album track Idiot, in which James describes himself as "so handsome and intelligent... the world's number one suavest gent" before going on to admit "but of course I'm not, I'm just an idiot, sweetheart..."
All these songs of wounded masculinity and failed relationships ( which are much funnier than they sound from my descriptions! ) reached their peak with the majestic Day Before Yesterday's Man, with it's unforgettable lines "Jesus, I'm freaking / I've had such a weekend / I think I must be turning to God / My girlfriend has dumped me and headed for the country / With a boy who wears white socks"
- great stuff! All in all a fine return for a band who, while they may not be as exuberant as they were two decades ago ( who is? ), can still bang out some wonderful songs. Hopefully I'll be able to see them headline again at some point. That'd be nice. And can you play Stammer next time, please?
And then, after quite a wait, the headliners came on stage to a mighty roar. I'd always liked Sleeper but wasn't aware of much more than their hit singles, even though I always thought Louise Wener's breathy vocals were one of the signature sounds of the Britpop era. I recently bought their first two albums to try and catch up and found what I'd been missing all that time...
They started with the sugar-rush of Nice Guy Eddie and instantly set the tone for the set - ridiculously fun, perfectly played, exciting guitar-based indie, with Louise Wener having a great time, fully in control of the audience, in fine voice and, it has to be said, looking very foxy indeed. Is there a sexier line in 90s music than "I picked up that bra you fancied"? Probably not. I think half the audience were reduced to a quivering heap on the floor at that moment. Ahem! Moving on...
And the next song was Delicious ( "You're delicious / You're so dirty / Make it dirty" ) so, yeah, more of the same. Next up was Paradise Waiting from their new album and you could see straight away that this comeback wasn't just an exercise in nostalgia - the new songs effortlessly reach the heights of the old ones. In fact, the title track The Modern Age was easily one of the best moments of the night. Sleeper's songs were often character studies about misfits, pulling back the curtain on suburbia to find the neuroses hidden there, and the new material seems an update on those themes in the age of social media and the general confusion of the 21st century. At one point, Louise mentioned how refreshing it was that Sleeper audiences don't tend to view their gigs through iPhone screens, but try to stay in the moment... "And now I've said that I can see someone filming me..."
After hitting us with such perfectly-formed, fizzing pop-bombs as What Do I Do Now and Statuesque, Sleeper showed some respect to the lineage of great female-fronted guitar bands by pulling out a fantastic cover of Blondie's Atomic which got everyone dancing, from the old gits like me to the young 'uns in the audience who wouldn't have been born when that track first burst out of New York. Note perfect with drumming from Andy Maclure that would have done Clem Burke proud. It was just sublime.
The set finished with the mighty Inbetweener ( of course ) and then the band came back to thunderous applause to play three more songs, finishing with the punch of Las Vegas and the sardonic Sale Of The Century. The band had clearly had as good a time as the crowd, with Louise telling us a couple of times how they had been unsure about this revival but now realised what a powerful thing this connection between performers and audience could still be. Hopefully they'll stick around now and I definitely need to see them again. I'm officially a Sleeper fan now! It only took 20+ years...
I'd actually dug my old Supernaturals T-shirt out of mothballs for this gig and, as I was heading out of the venue, a guy called Jed Maxwell came up to me and said "I used to have that T-shirt when I was 18! Quality shirt! Will you sell it to me? " Funnily enough, the answer was no. He was obviously upset that I didn't give him the shirt off my back and even tweeted about it the next day :-)
Here's the famous T-shirt:
After the gig I met up with Sophie, who'd just finished a shift at the Hippodrome, and we went for a quick drink at Bristol's Harbourside. A lovely end to a wonderful night.
