SHOW REVIEW: Friendly Fires, Kentishtown Forum (31/4/09)

Spark Me Up

Thursday 31st April 2009
The Kentishtown Forum

Friendly Fires are relatively new to the scene so to sell out The Kentishtown Forum is nothing to sneeze at. The album they’ve produced is great, with good dance beats, funky guitars and nice melodies and harmonies in the vocal department. I’d seen them blow everyone off stage earlier in the year at the NME Awards with a Brazilian carnivale and exploding confetti rendition of ‘Jump In The Pool’, so this was their time to shine with a whole set to themselves.

Their stage presence was larger than expected with various risers full of saxophones, trumpets, keyboards, percussion and the 3 main players - Ed Mac, Jack Savidge and Edd Gibson. Essentially they’re a 3 piece so I was excited at the prospect of seeing them with a bit of oomph behind them, but unfortunately the oomph failed to hit the spot. The songs are great and the crowd was pumping but as of yet they only have one full album. It’s been a while since I’ve seen such a new band with so much hype behind them so no doubt the lack of material will soon be rectified. Their renditions of ‘Skeleton Boy’, ‘On Board’ and ‘Strobe’ were stand out’s, as well as crowd favourites ‘Jump In The Pool’ and ‘Paris’.

However there’s no denying that this band are young, inexperienced and short of tunes as it showed. The set had no flow, no direction and was at times halting and mood breaking. The lead singers dancing and the bands overall enthusiasm are great factors and with more touring and material they will be one of Britain’s stand out acts in no time at all. But tonight came across as a hurried, unplanned, mismatch of songs that left us all high, dry and wanting more. I have no doubt they’ll be able to deliver it, it’s just a question of when.

SHOW REVIEW: The Prodigy, Brixton Academy (18/4/09)

Survival Of The Fittest
Saturday 18th April 2009
Brixton Academy

Greeted with ‘Dizee Rascal has cancelled due to illness’ notifications we made our way through the doors of Brixton with less than happy faces. The fact he’d played a sold out O2 Arena the previous night and probably just had a hang over made the announcement all the more disappointing. Nevertheless the line up for the night remained stellar – Kissy Sell Out, Chasing Status and of course, The Prodigy – so we carried on through to quench our thirsts and boogie.

As you may know I have worked at Brixton for over 6 months so it may surprise you to hear I’ve never been to the venue as a punter. So with Prodigy being my first ever attended gig it was somewhat of a baptism of fire. Having worked 2 Prodigy Christmas shows last year I was well aware of how hectic a night it can be, but was nowhere near prepared for experiencing it on ‘the other side’ (please refer to ‘Creatures of the Night: Lesson 1 - http://sistersin-creaturesofthenight.blogspot.com/) . Walking into the foyer and through to Ra Bar was almost enough to make me turn around and flee. There were people everywhere – and I mean EVERYWHERE! The lines at all bars were nothing short of monumental and navigating through to each one was akin to being in a human washing machine.

Cutting our losses we grabbed a water from the kiosk and made our way down front to review the situation, and thankfully were pleasantly surprised. Everyone was rushing to get their drinks in before Prodigy leaving the front of stage area relatively roomy, so we decided to stake our claim and stay put. From what we could gather Kissy Sell Out’s set had been lengthened due to Dizee being a Rascal, and I won’t lie, I wasn’t impressed. I love these guys on record – ‘Her’ and ‘Let There Be Blazing Light’ are 2 excellent dance tracks and if I ever heard them live I’d cut a hole in a rug deep enough to hit China. But I’ve seen Kissy twice now – once at Glastonbury and then tonight – and never have either been played. What we were given before Prodigy was a set of mistimed, mismatched, badly cut tracks with a few solid anthems in between. Apologies to Kissy Sell Out if it wasn’t them as no amended line up was posted, but if it was I was sorely disappointed.

And then they came. 10 minutes early and as prolific as ever. They haven’t changed one bit in the 15 years I’ve been listening to them. Everything was loud. Everything was dirty. Everything was Prodigy. It’s hard to put on paper what this act means to many. To me they represent a time when I appreciated dance music without the lifestyle enhancements that come along with it these days. And as a teenager dreaming of England, to see Prodigy at Brixton Academy with 5,000 peaking Brits… awesomely quintessential. One of the finest memories I have of Brixton is working a Prodigy after party in the Ra Bar and watching everyone go crazy, dancing uncontrollably to ‘He’s Ebeneezergood’ (or whatever that song was called), and I hate that song!

‘Their Law’, ‘Smack My Bitch Up’, ‘Voodoo People’, ‘Firestarter’, ‘Out Of Space’ and a fine selection of new tracks – the list goes on and on – I’ve no need to tell you (if you’re on FB check out my awesome videos: http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#/video/?id=501673841). Liam is still the mad scientist and master of all blasting basslines, beats and electronic mayhem. Leeroy is still fit, fine and crazy-eyed as ever. And Keith, well we all know Keith – he’s the fire starter. And according to my friend Kelly the only 40+ man who can pull off tight red leather trousers, and I agree. Then there’s the over shadowed drummer and guitarist who can actually keep up with them all. Those two deserve medals, without a doubt.

Keith and Leeroy’s constant shout-out’s to those in the pit goes to show they’ve not forgotten where they came from and know most of these hard cores have been there from the beginning. And after seeing tonight’s efforts I deem being in a Prodigy pit not unlike being in a death metal circle or even heading off to war. They make you lose all sense of control and dance like your life depends on it, driving harder and faster and making you forget there’s anything else. And then they were gone.

It was over. Everyone collapsed on the floor, scrambled for shoes, clothes, brains and any kind of liquid refreshment they could ingest. Chasing Status had the daunting task of following them and playing until 3am but they did a damn fine job. It’s hard to imagine anything could follow mayhem like that but they did it, and they did it well with fine drum and bass, jungle beats and just enough rhymes slapped on top to keep the bulk of the crowd cheering at The Academy until closing (plus they had nowhere else to go as the Victoria Line was down – how unusual). And to be honest a bit of drum and bass and jungle came as sweet relief after what Prodigy put us through.

I hereby surrender. It’s over. I’m done.

Take
Me
To
The
Hospital.

SHOW REVIEW: Kenny Rogers, Hammersmith Apollo (3/4/09)

The Gamblin' Man
Friday 4th April 2009
Hammersmith Apollo, London

This is less of a review and more of a chance to flaunt the fact I got to see Kenny Rogers sing ‘The Gambler’. Granted he was 71 when doing so, and slightly lacklustre due to the fact, but most of the audience was the same and it was still damn cool!

I whole-heartedly admit to being a country music fan – being from a country town myself – but it definitely has to fall in the ‘country rock’ genre. None of this Shania Twain, Leanne Rhymes, Taylor Swift malarkey, more of your Johnny Cash, Gram Parsons, Rhythm Aces style country. And until now I would not have placed Mr Rogers near the top of that list, and he’s not exactly rock, but I was astonished at how many songs I knew. ‘Have A Little Faith’, ‘The Gambler’ and ‘Islands In The Stream’ were just a few of the classics he pumped out, as well as covers like ‘You Picked A Fine Time To Leave Me Lucille’, all the while backed by a motley crew of a back up band that weren’t far off his own age and may have been original fixtures. Mind you he has gotten sentimental in his old age, singing a lot of romantic slow tunes whilst projecting images of his family and himself in his hey day on a giant screen behind him, as well as including said family pictures and the like in his reasonably priced £8 program. But they say you become reflective in your autumn years, and hell, he has a lot to reflect upon.

As far as shows go it wasn’t a knock out and I wasn’t blown away like his many adoring fans were – rising to their feet and rushing the stage at times (yes, 50+ year olds, it’s true) – but all the time watching I knew I was watching something special. A lot of my co-workers wouldn’t have been born when most of Kenny’s songs were written but that didn’t stop us having an in-work sing-a-long every now and then. Everyone – mainly the boys – knew ‘The Gambler’, with one very unlikely bar manager admitting he has a spaghetti western fetish. And everyone seemed to know ‘Islands In The Stream’, mainly due to a more recent cover of the tune done by Mia I think. Nevertheless, as I watched singing and dancing along with old, young, black, white, British, Australian and otherwise, I was sure Kenny would be pleased to see those little verses he wrote so long ago were still working their magic today.

SHOW REVIEW: James Morrison, Hammersmith Apollo (30/3/09)

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…

SHOW REVIEW: You Am I, The Electric Ballroom, Camden (27/3/09)

Where do I start, Where do I begin
Friday 27th March 2009

Electric Ballroom, Camden

Until now I hadn’t seen any Australian bands play in London. I’ve often thought paying pounds to see bands I can see at home was slightly pointless and I should be immersing myself in British and European culture. But if ever there was a reason to break tradition it be You Am I. Plus I knew a few people from home were going and I hadn’t seen them for an age, and I love Tim Rogers. A lot.

I hadn’t been to Camden for a while and was glad I opted for black jeans and a black cardigan as apparently black is compulsory when walking the streets of this London borough, along with black hair, metal studs, stripes, piercings and a massive chip (burnt until black) on your shoulder. I’m afraid I let the team down on the latter. Once inside the Electric Ballroom however it could have been any capital city in Australia. I did pick a French accent here; a Polish accent there; but most of the audience were Antipodeans. I admit I missed the support act due to a nice glass of white and a vegetarian pho down the road, but if I hadn’t have done my friend Oli and I wouldn’t have scored free tickets from the lovely lady sitting next to us in the restaurant (thanks so much Mel Crawford, I owe you one!). So instead of forking out our hard earned pounds Oli and I took on the guise of Stephen Pritchard +1 and swanned our way through the door. Gracias Mr Pritchard, whoever and wherever you are.

With drinks in hand we watched You Am I take to the stage looking extremely dapper in various vest, neck scarf and trilby hat ensembles – I’m not sure if this was purely for the UK or their normal attire nowadays as I haven’t seen them for nigh on 2 years, but they looked great and their usual fiery spark was ever present. They filled the first ¼ of the set with a good mix of fast and slower paced newbies – apologies for not providing a proper set list but as I mentioned, being out of Oz for almost 2 years has lead me to neglect the Australian music scene somewhat. One thing I can tell you is that Mr Rogers has been practising his dance moves in the mirror, looking somewhat like a cross between Iggy Pop and Steven Tyler he smashed, shimmied and hip-thrusted his way across the stage like a bawdry burlesque dancer, all the while using his axe as a tool of sexual persuasion. And as always has been and forever will be Davey Lane sang to us through those magical finger formations backed by the ever-solid never-swayed rhythm and beats of the mighty Andy Kent and Rusty. You can tell this band has been together forever as their shows are effortless but still full of fire and passion every time.

They made my night complete by playing Cathy’s Clown, Berlin Chair, Purple Sneakers and Mr Milk – cliché I know but they excite me no end! They also threw me for six when in the encore they returned to sing Thank God I’ve Hit The Bottom, as it was the first time I had ever seen them play it and therefore the first time I had ever seen Tim Rogers without a guitar strapped to him - EVER, let alone singing! It wasn’t at all an unpleasant experience but I must admit it unnerved me somewhat. So after a two hour Australian sing-and-dance-a-long You Am I left us to return home with a four-pronged salute and vivacious waves.

Mid-way through their set I accidentally bumped the girl next to me whilst dancing and turned around to apologise, only to find it was a French girl I work with at the Hammersmith Apollo, which was quite random indeed. When I asked how she knew the band she told me she lived with two Australian boys who insisted that she come and see them. She then asked me how well I knew the band which got me to thinking – You Am I were the very first band I went to see at my very first all ages gig, taking place at The Metro Theatre in Sydney. Little did I know then that I’d go on to book both the venue and band throughout various stages of my venue booking career. Funny how it all begins…

SHOW REVIEW: Franz Ferdinand, Hammersmith Apollo (9/3/2009)

All Good Things Begin With F
Monday 9th March 2009

Hammersmith Apollo, London

I could go so far as to say I’m a musical snob. If a band changes their stylistic or musical trajectory it must be for the better, for the greater good of music and rock’n’roll itself, or they face a downhill slide on my popularity front. I am ashamed to admit I thought Franz Ferdinand had failed in their recent plight and turned their FF Porsche in the wrong direction. I would like to admit publicly that I was so very, very wrong.

Supported by San Diego outfit The Soft Pack (www.myspace.com/thesoftpack) - an indie pop quartet who with time and a good run on the show circuit are definitely one to watch – Franz Ferdinand eventually took to the stage in a packed and pumped Hammersmith Apollo. I haven’t seen this band for a very long time (I’d say at least 4 years!) and by god how they’ve grown. Their sound is impeccably tight and they play like all four were born joined at the hips. I recall once going to see the red Hot Chili Peppers and being astounded at the amount of songs I knew every single word to (Ie: all of them), and tonight was much the same. The boys have an unbelievable amount of hits (and misses, or so I thought…), all of which I sang at the top of my lungs, and all of which are done nowhere near to justice when listened to on CD.

They cranked out such familiar hits as ‘Dark of the Matinee’ , ‘Do You Wanna’, ‘Take Me Out’, ‘Ulysses’, ‘Michael’, ‘Walk Away’ and countless more, all of which were crowd pleasers – an outstanding set list for sure. Plus their stage presence is electrifying – from their finger mirrored guitar progressions to their heart thumping walking beat drum sequences. I’ll be the first to say I think their drummer is not the best in the world – his simple drum beats seem void of technicality and would be perfect for your first ever drum lesson – but if he ever missed one of those beats the whole outfit would fall apart. Their guitar chords cling to and flow forward with every simple yet astoundingly effective pulse on the skins, and the result is an immaculate and stylish rock’n’roll performance.

As for the rest of the band their chords are always perfectly synchronised and delivered with such strength and execution it makes you want to scream and shout. And every now and then Alex and Nick let go and break into sporadic guitar improv’s and solo’s that leave you for dead and show you that beneath this well-kept disco rock outfit lies and ripped-jean denim-clad guitar wolf waiting to attack. Alongside that, I have always loved their well-timed use of ‘la la la’s’ and ‘do do do’s’. My Stepfather always taught us the use of such measures were a cop out so as to avoid writing proper lyrics, but these four have sullied his wisdom. It’s cute, it’s catchy and I found myself la-la-la-ing and do-do-do-ing their songs all the next day long.

Image-wise I consider them to be the most stylish band in rock’n’roll. Even with four Scottsmen present the closest thing we came to tartan was the immense checkered video screen backdrop displaying scenes of sexy girls, street-scapes, fire and various psychedelic swirls and shapes Pink Floyd would be proud to call their own. And as a lady there’s no denying it – dressed head to toe in jet black bar a striking red belt, coupled with deep Scottish dulcet tones and a commanding presence Alex Kapranos is nothing short of modern rock’s 007 – he looked gooooooooood!

And after all that they left us on the most amazing synth keyboard intro and 5-man strong everybody-solo drums finale I have ever seen! So, in short, Franz Ferdinand rock. They’re classy, they’re cool, they rip their instruments apart and if you dare to challenge them they’ll tear you to bits.

Their fire is outta control, and they burned this city.
Burned this city.
Yeah.

SHOW REVIEW: New Kids On The Block, Hammermsith Apollo (25/1/2009)

THE KIDS AREN'T ALRIGHT

Sunday 25th January 2009

Hammersmith Apollo, London

Over months passed I have been lucky enough to witness the pop party travelling circus that is the New Kids On The Block reformation tour, not once, but twice! Yes, I be one of the privelidged few. The first time was at an in-store for the music chain I worked for on Oxford Street, the second being at their not-so-sold-out show at The Apollo (bearing in mind they did play the O2 Arena the night before).

Let's face it - the kids are old. Every now and then you catch a glimpse of their former glory - Joey's big blue eyes, Jordan's brunette blow wave - but apart from that they're just five mature-aged crooners going through the motions both physically and vocally.

None of this was a suprise to me, as I see boy band comeback's through cynical eyes. Don't get me wrong - I loved NKOTB as a child and even recall having a Jordan night shirt - but I'd like to think my musical tastes have graduated somewhat, and I find it hard not to laugh when they pull out the old 'doing it for the fans not the money' routine. But the thing that suprised me most about this tour was not the still over-priced but somewhat tackier 'bedazzled' merchandise, nor the exhuberant ticket price, the flourescent stage set up or their hideous cover of The Stones' 'Start Me Up'. No, all these things paled in comparison to the aging, screaming mass that was their audience.

At Oxford Street I saw mature working women and mothers alike camp outside the store for over 2 days on the hard pavement in the freezing weather just to catch a glimpse of The Kids - some carrying with them their very own kids! Once inside, said babies were tossed aside and CD browsers were crushed, all in a vain attempt to get to the front and then scream solidly for 3 hours prior to their appearance. The spectacular fashion in which they were greeted once they took to the stage (late) was nothing short of Beatlemania - minus the musical talent of course. The store had to be closed due to overcrowding in the end whilst everyone got their autographs and pictures taken with the fab five.

The scenes at Hammersmith Apollo were similar if not worse. The massive line of one-gig-a-year mothers and wall-to-wall females (I didn't see one male - not a one) stood in the rain - some for over 8 hours - screaming, crying, re-doing their dampened hair and make up and giving the evil eye to the 200+ women who paid over £300 for a ticket that included a meet-and-greet with The Kids before the show. I later discovered, to my horror, these women belonged to a group that were following The Kids to every show around the UK on their very own tour bus, staying in the same hotels, and even running competition's such as 'Guess the NKOTB room number' for prizes and such...?!?!?!

And as The Kids eventually graced the stage house staff and security feared for their lives. Hair was pulled, tears flowed and the balcony shook concerningly as screaming hysterically became the order of the day and The Kids rolled through classics such as 'Step By Step', 'The Right Stuff', 'Hang Tough' and various new tunes I don't know the names of.

Screaming? Crying?? £300 tickets??? I feel I may have missed the boat on this one, as being a 29 year old female and former fan myself I can think of a thousand things I'd rather do with my money and two thousand places I'd rather be. I suppose you could say these women are a testament to that little part of us that never grew up. The part that loves jumping on the bed, watching cartoons, spending £500 in one night and coming home with a bad case of tinitus and a new t-shirt to wear down the local.

In saying all this I must admit to feeling a twinge of excitement, a rush even, as I got to meet The Kids very briefly. As they ran briefly through the rain and up the backstage stairwell from main stage to the balcony (to perform the aforementioned in-the-crowd cover of The Stones' 'Start Me Up') I had the illustrious duty of mopping the stairs dry whilst they sang, as one of them had slipped over backstage earlier and they didn't want a repeat of that on their swift return back to the stage.

They said 'Hi!'. I said 'Hi! Please don't fall or I'll get the sack!'; standing there, mop in hand - not unlike Baby carrying the watermelon in Dirty Dancing - thinking how close I'd just come to the 5 boys I'd drooled over constantly for many of my teenage years, and realising everyone gets old one day.

But not all of us chose to do it with dignity.