I
dragged an initially reluctant Rachel along for this one – well, she
likes Gaz Brookfield, I figured, so she should like Frank! – as we made
our way down for only our second ever gig in Old Sarum
(the only other occasion being Julian Cope at this very venue, gig 460,
a mere 14 years ago!). A leisurely drive through rural Wiltshire’s
villages saw us, thanks to good directions and navigation from my sweet
Rachey, parking up behind the venue at 1/4 to
8. However we had to fully circumnavigate said venue just to find the
entrance, tucked away in a rear courtyard! Not the only issue with this
venue tonight, as it transpired...
Support
Koo Koo Kanga Roo, despite having Frank’s personal ringing endorsement,
were terrible; 2 idiots in sweatpants jumping up and down to a muffled
hip-hop backing track, singing “songs” about
dinosaurs and fanny packs. Allegedly Frank’s initial reaction to them
was, “what the fuck?” before warming to them. Me, I’m still on that
first reaction… Maybe passable as first warm-up on a They Might Be
Giants kiddies matinee show, they were wholly inappropriate
for a rock gig, although Rach was left considering booking them for the
next school disco… So we sought shelter and refreshment in the packed
foyer, only to find the queues for both bars immobile and about 20 deep!
Massive queues for the tiny loos as well;
it’s no wonder this venue doesn’t host gigs more regularly, given its’
wholly inadequate facilities…
Anyway,
we popped back in and found a pocket of space towards the front, stage
left, then the lights dimmed at 9 and Frank and the band, uniformly
white-shirted, took the stage in short order and
rocked straight into the ramshackle sea shanty opener of “Try This At
Home”. Straight away the whole audience was enthusiastically singing and
clapping along, totally engaged and swept up in the inclusiveness of
the Frank Turner “live” experience. A tremendous
mandolin-powered “Losing Days” (reminding me of James’ 80’s classic
“What For”) preceded Frank welcoming us to, “show 1609!” before
introducing the first of a smattering of new numbers and asking 2
requests of us; firstly, no filming during the newies (“film
the rest of the show, I don’t care!”) and secondly, treat them like the
old numbers! The audience responded perfectly to the speedy, off-kilter
rollercoaster ride of “Out Of Breath”, the best newie on offer tonight.
Once
again Frank was on top form; a born performer, charismatic, voluble and
gregarious, a lot to say both in song and between, relating to the
audience in this large hall as if we were a group of
friends in a pub back room (still kicking myself about not turning on
to Frank earlier and thereby missing the chance to see him in those type
of venues!). Following a rambunctious “Reasons Not To Be An Idiot”, an
energetic Frank remarked, “I have to address
the issue of my untied shoelace or I’ll fall over and kill myself!”
before the raw, passionate, backlit rendition of the Dashboard
Confessional-alike “Disappeared”, an early highlight. This however was
topped by a solo “Better Half”, which Frank claimed to
only have played 3 times ever, but which was delivered brilliantly,
with scary conviction and heart-cracking emotion as raw as his strained
but passionate delivery.
We
were regaled by an account of a 1998 Salisbury show for Frank’s old
band, in which they turned up only to find they were double booked, told
politely to fuck off, then ended up playing to 3 people
at The Hobgoblin pub! A bit of a change to tonight, in which
“Photosynthesis” saw this sell-out crowd all sitting down during the
middle eight (not so fond of this, due to my dodgy knees…), before the
hoe-down denouement saw everyone jumping about.
A suspenseful “Plain Sailing Weather” followed, building to another
passionate crescendo, then Frank introduced another newie “Get Better”
(“about trying to get better… ha!”), with, “one more
new song, then it’s wall to wall hits! I’m talking Bon Jovi, Squeeze,
Del Amitri…!” No Dels though, but instead we got the jolly maypole dance
of “Recovery”, with a crew member acting as dance instructor, before a
toughened up set closer “Long Live The Queen”
which nevertheless featured a slow, stripped back finale, showing how
much this song – and the audience’s reverential singalong – still means
to him, maaaan.
The
encore highlight of “I Knew Prufrock Before He Was Famous” preceded
another lengthy monologue from the man, thanking us for selling out
tonight and reflecting on his current success (“I’ve been
asked on this tour, why are you playing small venues [after playing
arenas earlier this year]… there’s NO WAY this is a small venue!”), then
a punk rock “Four Simple Words” brought a consummate 1 hour 45
performance to a close. Another fairly simple set-list
later, we joined the queue to get out, as the entire audience was
uncomfortably funnelled out through the small entrance, instead of
opening up the fire exits at the back of the venue, again showing this
venue’s complete unpreparedness for such a gig. Then
a swift drive back in inky blackness, nonetheless reflecting on another
excellent Frank Turner show!
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