Where have all the real men gone?Monday 30th March 2009
Hammersmith Apollo, London
Being greeted by a queue with the average age of 12 on my way into work I knew it was to be a long night. Singer-songwriters must have a special something to be truly enticing as when it comes down to it all entertainment value lies with them. I’d heard a few James Morrison songs back in my HMV days (usually the same song repeated 2000 times in a day) and was never that excited by him. Unfortunately for Mr Morrison this feeling hasn’t changed.
Both supports were in the same vein, and by that I mean they sounded almost exactly the same. First up was Karlma, an extremely talented singer-songwriter who appeared to hail from London and was extremely young. Karlma gets 10 points just for making it this far at such a young age and in time will develop their own style and be a class-A knock out, but at the moment they’re playing the exact same music as Mr Morrison bar a not too shabby cover of Kings Of Leon’s ‘Use Somebody’. Unfortunately Karlma’s debut at the Apollo was marred by the fact that no-one could tell if they were watching a boy or a girl (and nor could I)! Clad in a grey sweat shirt, tight black jeans and sporting a fine looking well-groomed Afro with clip at the back he/she simply confused most of the audience. 1 out of every 2 customers was coming to the bar not for a drink, but for gender clarification.
Next up were English band Vagabon. Not much to say here but music by numbers. Think the voice of Terence Trent D’arby with the slight funky style of Living Colour, then dumb it down by 1000 and you may come close to how average they were, but the youngin’s seemed to like them... the guitarist was cute… not much else to report really…
Mr Morrison then joined us for what was to be a night of complete and utter total boredom. With a sterling group of session musicians and back-up singers behind him the music didn’t sound at all bad, it was just as unimaginative as all hell. He has a good voice, I’ll give him that. Call me an old cynical spinster but I am well wary of any straight man that sings about love so much. Every song was about love – EVERY SONG. Has this boy had nothing else in his life? I’m all for a good love song but every lyric ended with ‘Ooooh baby. I love you baby. I need you baby. Hold me baby’. Please stop before I puke baby.
He played his various hits and a long drawn out cover of Stevie Wonder’s ‘Uptight’, much to the delight of the 12-18 year old females and varied couples that filled the Apollo, so all in all he provides a good night of wholesome family fun - though he did say shit once, and an older couple in front of my bar definitely should have been done for indecent exposure the way they were carrying on, they very nearly swallowed each other whole. But by no means is this boy ever going to make a long lasting or legendary mark in British musical history. By the end of the night my bar manager and I were devoid of either of our bubbly personages, that’s how truly boring he was – he literally sucked the life out of us. In the end he simply left us thinking he was no more than a chav James Blunt.
Please don’t get me started on James Blunt…
Both supports were in the same vein, and by that I mean they sounded almost exactly the same. First up was Karlma, an extremely talented singer-songwriter who appeared to hail from London and was extremely young. Karlma gets 10 points just for making it this far at such a young age and in time will develop their own style and be a class-A knock out, but at the moment they’re playing the exact same music as Mr Morrison bar a not too shabby cover of Kings Of Leon’s ‘Use Somebody’. Unfortunately Karlma’s debut at the Apollo was marred by the fact that no-one could tell if they were watching a boy or a girl (and nor could I)! Clad in a grey sweat shirt, tight black jeans and sporting a fine looking well-groomed Afro with clip at the back he/she simply confused most of the audience. 1 out of every 2 customers was coming to the bar not for a drink, but for gender clarification.
Next up were English band Vagabon. Not much to say here but music by numbers. Think the voice of Terence Trent D’arby with the slight funky style of Living Colour, then dumb it down by 1000 and you may come close to how average they were, but the youngin’s seemed to like them... the guitarist was cute… not much else to report really…
Mr Morrison then joined us for what was to be a night of complete and utter total boredom. With a sterling group of session musicians and back-up singers behind him the music didn’t sound at all bad, it was just as unimaginative as all hell. He has a good voice, I’ll give him that. Call me an old cynical spinster but I am well wary of any straight man that sings about love so much. Every song was about love – EVERY SONG. Has this boy had nothing else in his life? I’m all for a good love song but every lyric ended with ‘Ooooh baby. I love you baby. I need you baby. Hold me baby’. Please stop before I puke baby.
He played his various hits and a long drawn out cover of Stevie Wonder’s ‘Uptight’, much to the delight of the 12-18 year old females and varied couples that filled the Apollo, so all in all he provides a good night of wholesome family fun - though he did say shit once, and an older couple in front of my bar definitely should have been done for indecent exposure the way they were carrying on, they very nearly swallowed each other whole. But by no means is this boy ever going to make a long lasting or legendary mark in British musical history. By the end of the night my bar manager and I were devoid of either of our bubbly personages, that’s how truly boring he was – he literally sucked the life out of us. In the end he simply left us thinking he was no more than a chav James Blunt.
Please don’t get me started on James Blunt…
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