495 THE SHEILA DIVINE, plus support, The Paradise, Boston MA USA, Friday 30 March 2001

After a day doing some seriously brain dumping with a sympathetic ear in EdV - I know what I've got to do, I just have to do it now - and avoiding the rain, we're up for the second of this 2 night TSD CD release stand. "The Peach", Pete Stone, EdV's "date" for this evening (his "+1" on the TSD guest list!), picks me up from my digs at 1/4 to 8. He's his usual acerbic self and Ed keeps rolling his eyes and saying, "aah, the Peach!" We hit the venue early for this advance sell-out to get good viewing places, only to find it packed out already and the punkish but unfocussed unnamed support act already assaulting the crowd's eardrums.

Hit the bar upstairs and EdV introduces me to barman Bill Guerra, new Senor Happy guitarist and roommate to James Horrigan! Take a wander to the balcony, stage left, where I chat to Fly Seville vocalist Jesse Blatz. The Sheilas come on at 9, opening with familiar slow-burner "Automatic Buffalo", then really kick-start things with strident newie "Every Year", which I remember clearly from the previous night. In fact, all the new "Countrymen" numbers in this rejigged and reshaped set are instantly memorable and recognisable from last night, starting with the title track, 3rd number in, which is similarly slow-burning and features serious vocal gymnastics from an in-form Aaron.

By this time I've eschewed my balcony spot and I'm once again pissing off the locals by barging my way forward, stage left, and trying to get this sell-out and supposedly rapturous local crowd to dance! The Sheilas do their best too; "Awful Age" is a brilliantly angry growl of a song, newie "Kiss Army" is a thrilling rush, and "Like A Criminal", with its dramatic guitar slashes, is an excuse for bassist big Jim Gilbert to jump about like a scalded cat, arms flailing Pete Townshend style around his pitifully small-looking bass. But my own personal favourite "I'm A Believer", and "Hum", two absolute top drawer slices of emotive, spine tingling dynamic guitar rock, are the superb climaxes to the set, "Hum"s middle eight vocal line being seemingly sung by the whole crowd. Passionate, haunting and brilliant!

A couple more encores, including a surprisingly superb "Eleanor Rigby" which features some almost scat-vocalising from Aaron, are followed up by champagne onstage, and an unscheduled last "Modern Log". Brilliant stuff, but my night's not over yet; I meet up with EdV and Pete and we're off to gig 496!

496 HEAVY STUD, The Kirkland Cafe, Somerville, MA USA, Friday 30 March 2001

EdV, Pete "The Peach" Stone and I head off to this gig from Ed's girlfriend's band, after tonight's Sheila Divine show at the Paradise; I'm buzzing from the Sheila's show, "The Peach" is on lecherous top form, and Ed is singing the Zamboni's "Hockey Monkey". A weird combination as we arrive in deepest darkest Somerville, to a venue which is even more dilapidated than the Linwood Grill in Fenway! Jon Lupfer had beaten us here from the TSD show and has grabbed a table, and the Stud are preparing to go on as we arrive at 11 pm.

I grab a seat and a beer as The Stud, featuring Ed's girlfriend Melissa Gibbs and Fly Seville drummer Jason Sloan, kick off. They lay down a fun set of simple but effective Ramones-ish punky pop tunes, and come across like early Muffs or The Slingbacks. The locals however only react when Melissa's co-vocalist Meredith offers some free CDs out. EdV joins them on bass onstage for their last number.

From the reasonably sublime to the ridiculous; the unnamed (I forgot, OK?) headliner features an ageing rock chick on vocals, and the mainman is a Jerry Garcia lookalike acid casualty who's celebrating his 45th birthday tonight but looks 20 years older. I find that my only way to humour them is to drink lots of tequila, so I'm primed when their poor bluesy set hits the Rolling Stones covers, and I sing along raucously to "It's All Over Now"!

We (that is, me, EdV, Melissa, Lupfer, the Stud, Ana etc) then head over to nearby Q Division for some after hours drinking, myself sensibly hitting the coca cola as I've necked far too much tequila. We eventually decamp, after singing American Hi-Fi numbers all evening, at about 2 am, a very tired and somewhat drunk Jon Lupfer driving me back to my digs on his way to Jamaica Plain. An odd end to a superb evening, thanks to gig 495!

497 KAY HANLEY, A baton twirler (!), The New Theater, Harvard Square, Cambridge MA USA, Saturday 31 March 2001

Last day of this short sharp trip to Boston. I grab late lunch with Mike Paulo and Mark Kraus before chilling at the Jr. Corduroy recording sessions at the Longhouse in Allston. Then off to EdV's, watching the end of some weird campus film with Ed and Josh before Josh drops us off in Harvard, on his way out to a blues gig he's playing in Somerville. Ed and I head for a restored theater opposite Tower Records (whose name eludes me, hence "The New Theater") for quite the strangest gig venue! This is definitely "guest-list only" territory; even ligger-about-town James Horrigan has been unsuccessful getting on this list! Luckily I'm with one of the band, EdV being part of Kay's back line, so I get into this sumptuously renovated and decorated theater hall. Very posh indeed, and the clientele - the glitterati of Boston's art world, bedecked in evening ball gowns and black tie - reflects this. I'm feeling very scruffy in my black jeans and red velvet shirt!

The evening gets more surreal as we hit the first floor for the promised food, which turns out to be pasta aperitifs and crudités with dips, laid out for display and attended by monkey suited waiters with silver trays. I feel like I'm at a society wedding reception! Ed and I chat and people-watch until company arrives, in the shape of Creamer, Lucky Jackson and "The Peach" Pete Stone, bringing much-needed levity and sarcasm to the stuffed-shirt proceedings. Then Kay and hubby Michael show up, both apparently remembering me from the Letters To Cleo shows in London back in 1996! Michael confirms this by saying he delivered a "Wilson" t-shirt I'd given him at the Powerhaus show (gig 321!) to Dave Gibbs!

So, after a few self-congratulatory speeches from various dignitaries and key players in the re-opening of this theater, the support act comes on; a scantily clad baton twirler! Shurely shome mishtake? Nevertheless, she's not on for long - just long enough to drop one of her batons! Arf arf (sorry, schadenfreude's not polite).

Kay leads the band on at 10.15 for 10 songs oozing class and songcraft, played with just the right amount of deference and understatement for the occasion and the less than 10% interested crowd. Nevertheless, the quality of the material shines through, being poppier and more low-key than the brash upfront bounciness of former band Letters To Cleo, but still beautifully crafted and catchy. "Mean Streak" bounces along like a spacehopper, but "Galapagos" (which I was warned to look out for by "The Peach", this being his favourite ever Kay song) is slow-burning and heart-wrenchingly lovely, as melancholy as my mood, which itself prompts a few words of incisive wisdom from Mr. Stone which I'll never forget. All in all, though, Kay and her new band are in fine fettle, judging by this performance.

I then head off after the gig and a few "thanks", particularly to Kay and Michael for the cool show, Creamer for being my free ticket this trip, and EdV for once again being a true friend when I needed one most. T back, one sleep, then back to Blighty early the next morning, to cap another successful Boston trip!

498 SPARKLEHORSE, Lift To Experience, London Borderline, Wednesday 11 April 2001

Back to reality fairly quickly following a quick trip to Boston, and back to the trek oop the Smoke. Tim drove a band of happy travellers for this one, setting off at 20 past 5 and getting a surprisingly good run into the centre of town, eventually parking in Charlotte Street (prompting a few verses of the Lloyd Cole song from me!) and getting to the venue before 8. The dingy old Tex Mex downstairs bar is still the same, evoking memories of previous trips here - Cleos, Bonham etc.

These were suitably shattered as the place filled up to capacity, and the support band hit the stage. Lift To Experience were a Texan trio with a vocalist with humungous sideburns, a bass player with a beard you could hide a coyote in, and a drummer with a face like a balloon with a face badly drawn onto it. Their postcard biog compared them to Jeff Buckley, MBV and The Birthday Party, but in reality they played a blinding cacophonous noise, interspersed with some moaning "Sturm und Drang" dynamics. Fairly ropey tuneless stuff which merged into one messy noise very quickly.

By the time they'd finished, our vantage point near the bar, which seemed a good idea when we arrived, had become squashed and crowded, so I took to the floor to get a better view! Sparklehorse came on at 9.45 to a rapturous welcome from the sell-out crowd; this was the third of 3 sell-out nights previewing the new CD "It's A Wonderful life", but internet reports of the first 2 weren't promising. No oldies and only low-key slow newies, the reports said. After a couple of newies, however, this seemed like scaremongering, as they were deliciously slow-burning, parched country ballads with grace and beauty. The third number, a newie possibly called "Waiting For The Jets" even kicked the tempo upwards unexpectedly.

"Thanks for your patience through all the new songs," announced a gratified Sparklehorse mainman Mark Linkous, as he launched into the pure beauty of "Hundreds Of Sparrows". "No problem, they're beautiful, man," came the reply, and at this point it was spot on. Unfortunately, the legendary Sparklehorse inconsistency kicked in thereafter, as the final batch of newies was more directionless, low-key and samey, ending the set disappointingly, and only redeemed by encores "Cow" and the bleached soundscape of "Homecoming Queen". A fine evening with a disappointing end, which should I guess mean at least half a good album from this maddeningly inconsistent country genius Linkous!

499 FEEDER, MY VITRIOL, Nuclear Fish, Bristol Colston Hall, Tuesday 17 April 2001

Took a late call on this one as Rachel sorted out the loan of her dad's car for the night, so we hit the road at 6.30, motoring down to Bristol with the intention to go to this gig, but with a back up plan (Cosmic Rough Riders at the Fleece!) if this was a sell-out. Luckily, we joined a surprisingly long queue and got the last couple of balcony seats, getting in in time to catch first band, the excellently-named local lot Nuclear Fish, who peddled a fairly standard okay-ish guitar rock, including a cover of John Lennon's "Working Class Hero" which went over the heads of most of the Feeder audience, comprised mainly of teenage girls! Did I take a wrong turn and end up at a Hockey International or what?

Anyway, we had My Vitriol to distract us from the squeaky hordes, and tonight's packed-out show was an opportunity to suss out how MV might handle the inevitable step-up to headliner status at this size of venue. I'm pleased to report that the lads (and lass) done great. Appearing onstage in a squall of exciting guitar noise, they immediately burst into primal roar mode with the thrilling "Losing Touch", and kept the foot on the loud pedal throughout. I'm not sure what the squeaking hordes made of their predilection for juxtaposing ethereal guitar shimmering and downright ear-splittingly evil rock, but I bloody loved it, and couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at how great this set was, how much it filled this cavernous venue to bulging point. Titanic single "Always: Your Way" was the highlight, before a tempo changing instrumental finale culminated in vocalist Som howling inarticulately into the mic and laying down the squalls of feedback to which they exited the stage. Their "Folk Song Crisis" perhaps?

Chilled out in the bar before taking our seats for headliners Feeder, passing MV guitarist Seth and having a few congratulatory words on the way. After the titanic noise of MV, Feeder were always onto a loser for me, and the 5 minutes after the lights went out that they kept us waiting for, before taking the stage, was a no-no as well. They gave it a real shot, however, and I confess I enjoyed them tonight. After dodgy tuneless beginnings (and dodgy boiler suits, back at Reading a few years back!) Feeder have evolved into a noisier Stereophonics with better tunes, and the attitude of mid-80's Bono from their obvious heroes and emulatees U2. Recent single "Buck Rogers", appropriating the same insistent guitar riff as the late lamented Julie Dolphin's "Birthday", was a goodie, and I also liked a few of the newies from forthcoming CD "Echo Park", but that was about it. They're OK, loud and fast, and I'd much rather the kids listen to Feeder than Eminem, but I'd prefer more invention and originality. Luckily, though, tonight we got that - in spades - from My Vitriol!

500 Slap, YOU ARE HERE, London Islington "Red Eye", Thursday 19 April 2001

Another big gig landmark reached - I'm halfway to the thousand now! However, I didn't have too much time to contemplate this landmark, as I was too busy manhandling a hired 12 seater Transit van (which I'd offered to do as a favour for the You Are Here boys) with dodgy locks, a crappy gearbox and a soft brake pedal. D'oh! Still, after anticipating a long journey down, and subsequently meeting everyone at the Footplate for a 4.45 departure, we had a really good traffic-free run to Islington, parking outside the venue at 1/4 to 7! Met the YAH boys as they finished soundchecking, and decamped to the splendidly named "Lark In The Park"!

Rachel joined us after her meeting in Ipswich, and we heard that YAH had got bumped down the bill, so left the pub at 8.30 for their 8.45 start. After eventually getting Mark to take the stage at this scuzzy little venue (the essence of rock'n'roll!), You Are Here got started with upbeat opener "Happy". And from the opening bars, and their general relaxed demeanour, it was evident they'd addressed the nervousness that dogged their recent Kentish Town gig. The old confidence and togetherness was back, and they pretty much nailed the first 3 numbers perfectly, sounding more guitarry, upfront and dynamically rocking than in recent shows. "Not A Summer Song", was however a bit disjointed, but its general bounciness won over, and didn't affect the momentum. "Confidence In Me", now reworked as a Midway Still-esque high adrenaline punkish romp, was much more like it, and "Hard To Stop" sounded hard edged and dynamic. The jewel in the crown, as ever, was closer "Trying To Write", the insistent beat the backdrop for some happy "yeah yeah" yelps delivered by Mark, shorn of his mike-stand comforter, as it had broken a couple of numbers previously!

All in all, a fine, in your face, harder edged set from a band learning from experience and putting it into practice pretty quickly. And well worth the accolade of my 500th gig!

Next band on, Slap, featured a statuesque blonde punkette as vocalist, but peddled a weak jazz/ ska melange. By then, however, I was planning the route home. And we hit the road at 10.30, joined by Rach and vocalist Mark, plus a big amp! I finally hit the hay at 2.30 am, after roadworks in London, toilet stops, dropping my passengers off at their homes, then realising the van's back door wouldn't lock so dragging Tim out of bed at 2 am to come pick his amp up! An eventful - but enjoyable overall - gig 500!

501 KRISTIN HERSH, Stephen Hero, London Shepherd's Bush Empire, Thursday 28 April 2001

Is the traffic madness finally calming down? Despite Beef turning up late to pick me up, and possible rumours of problems on the M4, we were parking at 7.20 just round the corner from Shepherd's Bush Green, after a journey time of just over 2 hours - just like old times! However, the night didn't continue in such a smooth vein; we got into the Empire to find seats set up in the normal stalls standing area, with our tickets - ordered early so we could be down the front - only good enough to stand around the bar area at the back of the stalls! Not happy about that, but despite my protestations to the box office about being misled by the ticket agency, we had to lump it. Bugger!

Anyway, we got good (as possible) vantage points on the steps leading up to the seated stalls area, making the best of it. Support Stephen Hero, on at 8, was an intriguing prospect - the hero in question was in fact Patrick Fitzgerald, former Kitchens Of Distinction mainman, plus an extra guitarist. The set was mighty fine, not too dissimilar from the glacially cool shimmering ice castles that were The Kitchens' stock in trade. Patrick's voice was as emotive and soaring as ever, which made for a beguiling mix of nostalgia and anticipation. Good to have him back!

Kristin, solo, joined us just after 9, having been delayed due to her 4 year old son Ryder mixing cocktails backstage! Her set, interspersed with a few offbeat laconic stories which suggest a possible alternative career as a raconteur, was largely based on fine new CD "Sunny Border Blue", an absorbing collection of tunes, if lower-key and mellower than the jagged mutant melodies of her Muses days. The highlights for me however were when Kristen delved back into those days, delivering "Delicate Cutters", "Hook In Her Head" and the excellently touching "Cottonmouth", revealing the stark beauty of the songs via these acoustic interpretations. A couple of encores, including the wonderfully haunting (!) "Your Ghost", capped a splendid set, which I'm glad I was well enough to hear this time! Shame about the ticket cock-up, though...
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