The Wonder Stuff? Well, yup. After a few lean years, Miles Hunt has finally decided to get the old crew together again for a few shows. This one sold out in days, and was the first of 5, so tonight we were in with the true Stuffies die-hards! Heck, I travelled up with 2 of them, namely Rachel and Prov, as well as the Big Man. But first, we had to get there! Prov picked me up at 1/4 to 4, and we got Rach and Rich from work, hitting the road proper at 5 after Rich's Hungerford pickup. It then took over 2 1/2 hours to get as far as the Chiswick Flyover at M4 Junction 2, after a nightmare jam, with an overheating car. D'oh! So we thought better of trekking it across town, dumping the car in Ealing Common and hitting the tube, then getting over to Kentish Town and into the venue at 9 - just as The Stuffies were finishing their set opener "Red Berry Joy Town" to a rapturous reception from the sell-out crowd. Rach and I immediately ploughed through into the dancefloor melee, moshpit bound and pissing off so many people in the process (sorry!), and ending up 2 rows from the front, stage right, in front of Stuffies guitarist Malc Treece's set-up. Not bad for late arrivals!
The Stuffies had evidently been rehearsing their comeback, as they were in fine form after 6 years away. Miles was his usual flippant self, dissing the music press and asking the audience to embrace the rock star cliché stuff, i.e. lighters held aloft and suchlike, as, "we couldn't do that when we were trying to be cool!" And the band, with a new bassist in tow, were tight as a gnats chuff. All the faves were trotted out; "Cartoon Boyfriend", "On The Ropes" (my own Stuffies fave and finally given due credit by Miles) and a rambunctious sing-along "Golden Green", all met with hysterical rapture from the rosy-eyed Stuffies massive. I've never been the world's biggest fan of this lot and their slightly-delic, fiddly (as in - with fiddles) knockabout cartoon indie-pop, so I could see the flaws - "Caught In My Shadow" was thin and needed much more oomph, for example, and the Vic Reeves encore was simply an embarrassment (of which the less said, the better) - but I was probably the only one who felt that way!
Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoyed this set, and I'd certainly much rather have the flippancy and irreverence of the Stuffies and Miles Hunt than the po-faced miserablism of the Radiohead impersonators or the misogynist US date rape rock bunch. A bit of life being brought back into rock, you never know. Welcome back, the Wonder Stuff!
Thursday, 27 May 2010
477 MIDWAY STILL, Gallus, Mobster, London Kings Cross Water Rats, Thursday 14 December 2000
And here are more 2000 comeback kids!I dunno, recently it's been The Wonderstuff, The Posies and now the Still; tonight I'm gonna party like it's 1993! So, Tim picked us up at 5, bearing in mind recent travel nightmares, and the traffic was so much better that we parked up in Kings Cross just before 8. Who'd have thunk it! So we hit the Water Rats bar - which had obviously had a lick of paint and a polish since our last trip - and stayed there while Mobster, a messy US sports metal shouty sound-alike, were on. We did, however, trot into the venue for Gallus, who were better and recalled The Fat Lady Sings and Hothouse Flowers with their mid-paced, acoustically charged sweeping epics. The long maned vocalist was an Eddie Vedder sound-alike, yet they left a favourable impression overall.
However, we were there for some Xmas Punk! And we certainly got that from The Still, who kicked off at 10 with a rollicking new number, then into the thrashy Husker Du groove of "What You Said". I got the jumping about really started during the brilliant "Better Than Before", their one brief flirtation with indie-pop stardom, and subsequently rocked out to this messy yet enthusiastic set of retro thrashy yet tuneful and hook-led rock. A smattering of newies coloured the set, and final number "Since You've Been Gone" ran roughshod over the Rainbow soft-metal original, before they were booted off stage for running over time. Bugger!
Grabbed a couple of quick words with vocalist Thompson afterwards; with some new numbers, Midway Still are very much a going concern again, and Tim left promising to get the Still a show in Swindon. Now, that'd be something...
However, we were there for some Xmas Punk! And we certainly got that from The Still, who kicked off at 10 with a rollicking new number, then into the thrashy Husker Du groove of "What You Said". I got the jumping about really started during the brilliant "Better Than Before", their one brief flirtation with indie-pop stardom, and subsequently rocked out to this messy yet enthusiastic set of retro thrashy yet tuneful and hook-led rock. A smattering of newies coloured the set, and final number "Since You've Been Gone" ran roughshod over the Rainbow soft-metal original, before they were booted off stage for running over time. Bugger!
Grabbed a couple of quick words with vocalist Thompson afterwards; with some new numbers, Midway Still are very much a going concern again, and Tim left promising to get the Still a show in Swindon. Now, that'd be something...
478 YOU ARE HERE, Cold Fusion, Swindon Victoria, Thursday 21 December 2000
So my good friend Tim has finally got his shit together and formed a band of his own, also featuring occasional gig buddies Andy Belcher and Mark Hawkins. I'd missed their debut gig in July thanks to my peritonitis recovery, so I wasn't about to miss this one! So I picked Rachel and her friend Aaron up, hitting the Victoria in Old Town for the first time for a gig, surprisingly so as the Vic is local, and owned by Kev and Nicky Fitzgerald, 2 old friends of mine. Nice to gig in Swindon again, even if this means having to put up with sub-standard local supports such as Cold Fusion, who admittedly started off well with a spritely pop/rock number which recalled Power Of Dreams, but then degenerated into sub Bon Jovi pseudo anthemic stadium dirge, with a few twiddly prog rock flirtations along the way.
Mark had said beforehand that for this, YAH's 2nd only show ever, he was feeling seriously nervy. They took the stage at 10.15 to a busy crowd in this small back room venue, and also to a volley of, "rock cliché!" catcalls from myself, as I'd noted they'd put their single last on their set-list! However - and I'm not saying this because they're mates, I like to think I'm more objective and honest than that, and I've certainly slagged off bands Tim has been in before (Ish!) - they were bloody good straight from the off. Unsurprisingly, given the influences at work, You Are Here have a very American rock sound, but in an intelligent, low-fi way rather than the current power riffery and shouty rap nonsense that passes for US alt rock these days. Surprisingly jangly, prompting thoughts of early REM and their Brummie impersonators Onionhead, they came across as tight, together, well practised and even confident. "Feeling Confused", their Cold Water Flat sound-alike, and self-consciously understated yet almost jolly single "Not A Summer Song" were highlights of the set, and Mark, despite clutching to the mikestand for dear life throughout, didn't seem overly nervy at all.
A thrilling punk rock demolition of Wham's "Last Christmas" was a fun encore, but an odd juxtaposition for a band who have craft, intelligence and lots of potential, and who we should all take more seriously. You Are Here - guys, you are almost there!
Mark had said beforehand that for this, YAH's 2nd only show ever, he was feeling seriously nervy. They took the stage at 10.15 to a busy crowd in this small back room venue, and also to a volley of, "rock cliché!" catcalls from myself, as I'd noted they'd put their single last on their set-list! However - and I'm not saying this because they're mates, I like to think I'm more objective and honest than that, and I've certainly slagged off bands Tim has been in before (Ish!) - they were bloody good straight from the off. Unsurprisingly, given the influences at work, You Are Here have a very American rock sound, but in an intelligent, low-fi way rather than the current power riffery and shouty rap nonsense that passes for US alt rock these days. Surprisingly jangly, prompting thoughts of early REM and their Brummie impersonators Onionhead, they came across as tight, together, well practised and even confident. "Feeling Confused", their Cold Water Flat sound-alike, and self-consciously understated yet almost jolly single "Not A Summer Song" were highlights of the set, and Mark, despite clutching to the mikestand for dear life throughout, didn't seem overly nervy at all.
A thrilling punk rock demolition of Wham's "Last Christmas" was a fun encore, but an odd juxtaposition for a band who have craft, intelligence and lots of potential, and who we should all take more seriously. You Are Here - guys, you are almost there!
479 YOU ARE HERE, Steerpike, Stretchmark Vixen, Swindon Victoria, Sunday 31 December 2000
Amazingly this is the first New Year's Eve gig I've ever been to! So I was happy to welcome in the New Millennium (oh yes, its' this year, not last one...) with some live rock for once! Drove up to the George where the usual suspects were gathering for a night on the piss there and at the boring old Savoy. Yawn. Surprisingly, only Rachel fancied the rock instead, so we left and hit the busy Vic at 9, meeting Tim and crew in the back room, Tim particularly impatient for this set to be over so he could get bladdered!
But this being Swindon, we had to endure some sub-standard local stuff before the cream of the crop. This meant a PJ Harvey wannabee, all light and shade but appropriated and fake screeching angst, and also a bewigged Swedish "Doctor Of Love" laying down some misogynist nonsense even Barry White would've been embarrassed to sing. The appropriation of a Bill Hicks line merely showed him up as mutton dressed as Goat Boy. Main support Steerpike, featuring landlord Kev Fitzgerald on mandolin, at least kicked up some style and talent, but the Levellers politico-fraggle gravy train left this particular station some time ago.
So, to 11, and the main dish of the day. You Are Here kicked the place - and the New Year festivities - off to a T with a great set which was looser and more chaotic than the tight-as-a-gnats-chuff dynamics of 10 days ago, but actually benefitted from it. Mark even let go the white knuckle grip of his mikestand once or twice and indulged in some self-conscious but expressive shapes! And as for the rock, well the understated strum was veering more towards mutant howl tonight, but the tunes and the fun still shone through, as a moshpit, including myself and Rach, frugged our way towards 2001. We had "Not A Summer Song" mid-set this time, following my shouts of "rock cliché!" 10 days ago, and it benefitted from its' new placement (but then I would say that, wouldn't I?). As for the encore, this time we were treated to a new number allegedly written, "last Thursday," but which had a huge American Hi-Fi style riff and hook. One for a single, perhaps, when they finish it!
The guys headed to the bar afterwards for powerful amounts of beer, and I danced in 2001 to some vintage punk rock over the PA. And a bizarre end to the evening as well; after an abortive trip to a New Year's Eve party, we ended up helping Tim take his wildly drunk girlfriend home. After the entertainment You Are Here provided tonight, though, it was the least I could do!
But this being Swindon, we had to endure some sub-standard local stuff before the cream of the crop. This meant a PJ Harvey wannabee, all light and shade but appropriated and fake screeching angst, and also a bewigged Swedish "Doctor Of Love" laying down some misogynist nonsense even Barry White would've been embarrassed to sing. The appropriation of a Bill Hicks line merely showed him up as mutton dressed as Goat Boy. Main support Steerpike, featuring landlord Kev Fitzgerald on mandolin, at least kicked up some style and talent, but the Levellers politico-fraggle gravy train left this particular station some time ago.
So, to 11, and the main dish of the day. You Are Here kicked the place - and the New Year festivities - off to a T with a great set which was looser and more chaotic than the tight-as-a-gnats-chuff dynamics of 10 days ago, but actually benefitted from it. Mark even let go the white knuckle grip of his mikestand once or twice and indulged in some self-conscious but expressive shapes! And as for the rock, well the understated strum was veering more towards mutant howl tonight, but the tunes and the fun still shone through, as a moshpit, including myself and Rach, frugged our way towards 2001. We had "Not A Summer Song" mid-set this time, following my shouts of "rock cliché!" 10 days ago, and it benefitted from its' new placement (but then I would say that, wouldn't I?). As for the encore, this time we were treated to a new number allegedly written, "last Thursday," but which had a huge American Hi-Fi style riff and hook. One for a single, perhaps, when they finish it!
The guys headed to the bar afterwards for powerful amounts of beer, and I danced in 2001 to some vintage punk rock over the PA. And a bizarre end to the evening as well; after an abortive trip to a New Year's Eve party, we ended up helping Tim take his wildly drunk girlfriend home. After the entertainment You Are Here provided tonight, though, it was the least I could do!
480 Striptwister, Tangible Fruit Squad, YOU ARE HERE, Woking "Boston Experience", Sunday 14 February 2001
Joining an eclectic bunch of bands (Del Amitri, Kingmaker and The Railway Children!) whom I've seen 3 gigs in a row (but still short of U2's 4 in a row record), we're off to see You Are Here again! This is also the first time since his former band 101 days that Tim's managed to persuade me to see one of his bands out of town. Actually he didn't need to do any persuading - I was there like a shot! So Rachel and I headed cross-country to Woking, a less arduous journey than thought - 1 1/2 hours through Bracknell and Bagshot. Easy! Less easy was finding the venue, as we'd parked over the opposite side of the station, then once over the right side, we ignored the venue's dirty great neon sign outside. D'oh!
Met the boys in the venue, a first floor wine bar wannabee with polished beige floor panelling and windows all along one side, giving it the feel of a nouveau riche youth club. Weird! The "Boston Experience" element extended to a smattering of pictures on the wall of Beantown and "The Bruins" Ice Hockey team, including one of their old ground "The Garden". Soundchecking came and went, as we chewed the cud with the boys, and the place filled with a suspiciously older looking clientele. I felt quite young really!
You Are Here were first on, getting the tap on the shoulder at 9. Taking the stage (or corner of the room, as it were), they bounded into their increasingly familiar jangly US-inspired intelligent rock. Despite their criticisms afterwards of not hearing the sound very well "onstage", the mix from where we were was pretty much spot on, clean and clear, with no one instrument dominating. The boys did it full justice with a committed and flaw-free performance. "Not A Summer Song", again mid-set, got me and Rach really throwing shapes with gay abandon, and the triumphant finale, "Trying To Write", with the insistent "On A Rope" grooved riff, the descending bassline and the strident, "yeah yeah" yelp of the chorus, surely must be polished up as their next single. And their increasing stage confidence showed, with Mark actually cutting loose from his mikestand for the "yeah yeah"s!
And we sussed out the true meaning of the "Boston Experience", because, as in Boston, Rach and I were the only ones dancing here as well! Despite that, YAH were very well received, particularly by the vocalist of Cranberries wannabees Striptwister, who gushed approval as we helped the guys pack gear up afterwards.
Stood at the rear for the second band, a bunch of baggy chancers with good musical technique but no togetherness whatsoever, who showed YAH's set up for the fault-free jewel it was by also being beset with technical and sound problems. We didn't stay for Striptwister - we'd heard their soundcheck! Bade farewell then had an equally swift and trouble-free drive home, again extolling the virtues of You Are Here!
Met the boys in the venue, a first floor wine bar wannabee with polished beige floor panelling and windows all along one side, giving it the feel of a nouveau riche youth club. Weird! The "Boston Experience" element extended to a smattering of pictures on the wall of Beantown and "The Bruins" Ice Hockey team, including one of their old ground "The Garden". Soundchecking came and went, as we chewed the cud with the boys, and the place filled with a suspiciously older looking clientele. I felt quite young really!
You Are Here were first on, getting the tap on the shoulder at 9. Taking the stage (or corner of the room, as it were), they bounded into their increasingly familiar jangly US-inspired intelligent rock. Despite their criticisms afterwards of not hearing the sound very well "onstage", the mix from where we were was pretty much spot on, clean and clear, with no one instrument dominating. The boys did it full justice with a committed and flaw-free performance. "Not A Summer Song", again mid-set, got me and Rach really throwing shapes with gay abandon, and the triumphant finale, "Trying To Write", with the insistent "On A Rope" grooved riff, the descending bassline and the strident, "yeah yeah" yelp of the chorus, surely must be polished up as their next single. And their increasing stage confidence showed, with Mark actually cutting loose from his mikestand for the "yeah yeah"s!
And we sussed out the true meaning of the "Boston Experience", because, as in Boston, Rach and I were the only ones dancing here as well! Despite that, YAH were very well received, particularly by the vocalist of Cranberries wannabees Striptwister, who gushed approval as we helped the guys pack gear up afterwards.
Stood at the rear for the second band, a bunch of baggy chancers with good musical technique but no togetherness whatsoever, who showed YAH's set up for the fault-free jewel it was by also being beset with technical and sound problems. We didn't stay for Striptwister - we'd heard their soundcheck! Bade farewell then had an equally swift and trouble-free drive home, again extolling the virtues of You Are Here!
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
481 THE WEBB BROTHERS, I Am Kloot, Oxford Zodiac, Friday 26 January 2001
Set off for this early one in the snow! Yup, a seriously slushy snowstorm greeted us as we headed out onto the A420 to trundle over to Oxford. Poor visibility as well! The guy at the venue door had apparently "lost" our tickets, but let us in anyway (same surname, you see!). Wandered up the stairs where I Am Kloot were onstage, peddling their acoustic stories of doom and gloom. Not too bad really, but not gripping my imagination enough to pay serious attention. The sparse crowd felt the same way, given the fair percentage of them at the bar.
Took a stroll down the front of the venue for the Webb Brothers themselves, in a headlining role for the first time. Since their fine, swirling and vastly 60's influenced (no surprise there, given their parentage) set supporting Eels, I'd picked up their debut CD proper, "Maroon", finding it similarly moody, bleak and deliciously heart-cracking. So I was expecting a quiet, thought provoking set. What we got, however, was 5 enthusiastic Californians bounding onstage and pumping straight into a couple of upbeat jaunty, summery pop numbers, the second of which, "Summer People", was deliciously raucous. Hey, The Webb Brothers rock! They're upbeat about the shitty weather and relatively poor turnout, and also took the opportunity to diss new US President George W Bush ("fucking wanker!"). Yes! The moodier numbers, interspersed through the set, were played forcefully, coming across as wildly discordant, and were juxtaposed with some lovely 4-point harmonies. One early number, "Cold Fingers" was dynamic and swirling, and brought to mind The Gravy (!), especially Christiaan's rock'n'roll poses. The "sales pitch" before angst-ridden new single "I Can't Believe You're Gone" was also fun.
A couple of well-deserved encores rounded off an unexpectedly in-your-face performance from an evidently chameleonic bunch. On record moody, 60's influenced and introspective, but "live" jaunty, overt, bouncy and entertaining. Good gig, despite the snow!
+
Took a stroll down the front of the venue for the Webb Brothers themselves, in a headlining role for the first time. Since their fine, swirling and vastly 60's influenced (no surprise there, given their parentage) set supporting Eels, I'd picked up their debut CD proper, "Maroon", finding it similarly moody, bleak and deliciously heart-cracking. So I was expecting a quiet, thought provoking set. What we got, however, was 5 enthusiastic Californians bounding onstage and pumping straight into a couple of upbeat jaunty, summery pop numbers, the second of which, "Summer People", was deliciously raucous. Hey, The Webb Brothers rock! They're upbeat about the shitty weather and relatively poor turnout, and also took the opportunity to diss new US President George W Bush ("fucking wanker!"). Yes! The moodier numbers, interspersed through the set, were played forcefully, coming across as wildly discordant, and were juxtaposed with some lovely 4-point harmonies. One early number, "Cold Fingers" was dynamic and swirling, and brought to mind The Gravy (!), especially Christiaan's rock'n'roll poses. The "sales pitch" before angst-ridden new single "I Can't Believe You're Gone" was also fun.
A couple of well-deserved encores rounded off an unexpectedly in-your-face performance from an evidently chameleonic bunch. On record moody, 60's influenced and introspective, but "live" jaunty, overt, bouncy and entertaining. Good gig, despite the snow!
482 GRANDADDY, Bristol University Anson Rooms, Friday 2 February 2001
The current traffic craziness is getting worse, as 2 lots of roadworks on the M4 and a totally ludicrous parking space search around the top of Park Street conspired to make us very late for this sell-out gig, as we walked into the Anson Rooms just as support Lowgold were finishing their set. Bugger! So, we headed straight for the scrum at the bar instead, and tried to chill and chat amongst all the brand new Grandaddy student massive, before decamping into the main hall at the first audible signs of life from the stage.
Grandaddy are certainly striking while the iron is hot, following up their biggest gig to date (Shepherd's Bush Empire, gig 474) with a trawl around some good sized provincial venues, accompanied with a re-release of their stunningly delicious "The Crystal Lake" single from last year. It seemed odd in a way then, that this set was eerie and low-key, and took awhile to settle in to. No animals nonchalantly patrolling the stage either, although the green-lit stage set, resplendent with leaves and branches decorating the monitors, banks of keyboards and instruments, was cute and evocative. Nevertheless, despite the desolate and haunting "Miner At The Dial A View" early on, it took until a superb "Crystal Lake" to really shunt things along from eerie introspectiveness to glittering woodlands psychedelia. A subsequent, almost raucous "AM180" and a Ramones-like punkish blast through "Summer Here Kids", really got the crowd good and warmed up, but tonight's true highlight was the set finale "He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's The Pilot", which had previously struck me as somewhat cumbersome, but tonight soared in it's stark and beautiful simplicity. Saving the best until last tonight, and no mistake!
An encore run through "Non Phenomenal Lineage" and "So You'll Aim Toward The Sky" bookended this ultimately utterly splendid and totally worthwhile Grandaddy performance, which was rapturously received. Grandaddy, stumbling upwards and onwards!
And, of course, the drive home was quick and delay-free, which made missing Lowgold all the more galling. Bugger! Again!
Grandaddy are certainly striking while the iron is hot, following up their biggest gig to date (Shepherd's Bush Empire, gig 474) with a trawl around some good sized provincial venues, accompanied with a re-release of their stunningly delicious "The Crystal Lake" single from last year. It seemed odd in a way then, that this set was eerie and low-key, and took awhile to settle in to. No animals nonchalantly patrolling the stage either, although the green-lit stage set, resplendent with leaves and branches decorating the monitors, banks of keyboards and instruments, was cute and evocative. Nevertheless, despite the desolate and haunting "Miner At The Dial A View" early on, it took until a superb "Crystal Lake" to really shunt things along from eerie introspectiveness to glittering woodlands psychedelia. A subsequent, almost raucous "AM180" and a Ramones-like punkish blast through "Summer Here Kids", really got the crowd good and warmed up, but tonight's true highlight was the set finale "He's Simple, He's Dumb, He's The Pilot", which had previously struck me as somewhat cumbersome, but tonight soared in it's stark and beautiful simplicity. Saving the best until last tonight, and no mistake!
An encore run through "Non Phenomenal Lineage" and "So You'll Aim Toward The Sky" bookended this ultimately utterly splendid and totally worthwhile Grandaddy performance, which was rapturously received. Grandaddy, stumbling upwards and onwards!
And, of course, the drive home was quick and delay-free, which made missing Lowgold all the more galling. Bugger! Again!
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