943 IDLEWILD, Sorren McLean, London The Roundhouse, Friday 13th March 2015

A welcome return to gigging action for perennial “live” favourites Idlewild; my 12^th time overall tonight, but the first for something approaching 7 years! In the interim, they’d released a low-key album then taken a sabbatical to pursue solo projects (one rather unpleasant upshot of this being a campaign by some so-called “fans” to boycott said solo endeavours to force Idlewild to reform… hmm…). However, they’re now back with a new album, “Everything Ever Written”, which adds a noted folkier dimension to Idlewild’s chameleonic, often windswept, often frantic, but always dramatic and intriguing REM-like alt-rock. Unfortunately, Camden’s rejuvenated Roundhouse was the closest venue an accompanying tour came to the ‘don, so it meant some logistical rejigging for Idlewild uber-fan Rachel and myself!

So, I was “Harry Half-Day”, Grandma had the kids, and I picked Rach up after her course, hitting the road at 4 and electing to park up at the Bush and tube it over. Hit the quiet early doors Roundhouse at 7.30, Rach immediately snapping up merch before we headed into the wide main space of this ornate and beautifully appointed former engine shed. Sorren McLean opened the show at 8 to a ripple of interest from a filling crowd; he and his 5-piece band played some understated, initially atmospheric slow burn stuff, which, combined with McLean’s low, conversational vocals, recalled “Graceland”-era Paul Simon, or a Death Cab For Cutie hailing from the Outer Hebrides rather than Silicon Valley. It veered into fiddly diddly finger picking trad rootsy folk a bit too much for my taste, but ‘twas an ok support overall.

The place filled up dramatically afterwards, full of really tall blokes too, and it was proper old school rammed for this sell-out show, even from our ¾ back central vantage point, as Idlewild took the stage prompt at 9 to searchlights and moody intro music. Opener “Nothing I Can Do About It”, from the new album, crept in almost apologetically, before suddenly and impressively roaring into life. Vocalist Roddy Woomble announced, “there’s a lot of you here tonight, where have you all been?” before a rambunctious “You Held The World In Your Arms”, but it took the “Murmur”-era REM backwards guitar riff of oldie “Little Discourage”, fourth number in, to really kick the gig into gear, a mad moshpit breaking out.

Idlewild clearly had a plan for this evening and executed it to perfection. The gig was the epitome of “perfectly paced”, swapping between more low-key, often folk-tinged new album material and the more familiar oldies, fast and slow, breathless and restive, light and shade, showcasing their entire canon of work and their versatility. So we varied from the slow-burn, plaintive “Every Little Thing Means Trust”, Roddy bolting on a fat acoustic for this one, then a searing “Roseability” (prior to which, some moron reeking of beer took exception to the fact I wouldn’t – couldn’t – move to let him through, another fellow punter remarking to me, “you’ve got the patience of a saint, mate,” after the idiot had manhandled me then backed off, still complaining), a touching yet jumpabout “Live In A Hiding Place” (causing guitarist Rod Jones to warn, “be careful when you jump around – we’re not getting any younger!), then a hushed “Quiet Crown” segueing into the frantic new wave bleeps and yelps of oldie but goldie “Captain”.

A slow, towering “Love Steals Us From Loneliness” was great, but merely a prelude, as an anthemic, singalong “American English” really raised the roof, the crowd filling the denouement as Roddy paused. Superb stuff, but that was even topped by an utterly brilliant “El Capitan”, soaring and haunting in equal measure, Roddy taking the time to savour the moment. An encore of a stripped back “Too Long Awake” was also stunning, the line “I’ve been too long away” being totally apt, before a frantic “Modern Way” and the slow-burn of “The Remote Part”, building to an impressive crescendo, finished a superb set.

Unfortunately, egress was slow as we inched out of the venue (a few yards behind comedian Josh Widdecombe!), then an hour tube back to the car and roadworks diverting us off the M4 at Reading meant an old-school London home time of 1.30 am. Yikes! However, it was worth it to see the rejuvenated Idlewild – they’re back, and on tonight’s evidence quite possibly as good as they’ve ever been!

942 STIFF LITTLE FINGERS, Electric River, Bristol O2 Academy, Saturday 7th March 2015

Yup, it’s that time of year again… and this one’s all about the stats. Tonight’s “Mad March To Bristol” is the 10^th time in 11 years I’ve seen enduring original punks Stiff Little Fingers “live” at Bristol Academy in March. This also now being the 15^th time I’ve seen them overall, SLF now proudly stand on their own in 2^nd place in my “bands most seen” list, behind the inevitable Seafood (who at their current rate they’ll catch up in March 2022!). I confess that SLF aren’t actually up there with my absolute favourite bands (in fact, they’re probably not even in the top echelon of my favourite original punk bands, behind the likes of The Skids and The Ramones) and their impressive gig rate is due to this annual opportunity more so than anything; however every time is a damn good time, usually a chance for an evening out with old friend/s and a singalong to some raucous terrace chant punk. Plus, SLF still have the best entrance music of any band ever, so what’s not to like?

So, I picked Rich up at 6.45 (stat reference again; this being the 8^th time we’d done this Mad March” together, and with Rich having already driven 4 times, I needed to pilot the usual Lauda-esque drive down tonight to catch up!), and we hit the venue just before 8. Spent some time checking out the merch and chatting in the back bar, so missed openers Ghost Of The Avalanche, but decided to check out main support Electric River. We were glad we did – halfway through their first number, we’d both already turned round to each other and said, “I like this!” A 3-piece from Kent, they nevertheless played some decidedly American sounding blue-collar honest-to-goodness rawk and roll, big, beefed up and hookily anthemic, like a Gaslight Anthem if they were brought up on a diet of, say, The Clash or even tonight’s headliners, instead of Springsteen. The strong-armed, flat cap-clad vocalist (headwear similar to GA’s Brian Fallon!) was evidently hard as nails, opening his beer bottle up with his teeth, clearly enjoying himself up there and praising the crowd response; “we like the vibe [in Bristol], we like the water, we like the graffiti, we like the crowd!” “Leap Of Faith” (“about someone who’s been knocked down one time too often”) was a heart-on-sleeve working class manifesto, and segued perfectly into a singalong of Ewan MacColl’s “Dirty Old Town”. More sing-alongs during their final couple of numbers too, “Keep The Engine Burning”, dedicated to their van (!) being a penultimate fist-pumping punkish blast and the highlight of an impressive set. Nice blokes too, as we found out, chatting to the vocalist – apparently called Sponge! – about The Ramones and touring strategies at their merch stand after their set.

We cut the chat short to head back in at 9.15 for the anticipated arrival of SLF, but they kept us waiting until 9.30 for their entrance, after the aforementioned brilliant “Go For It” entrance music, and to the usual raucous Bristol reception. Again, they fairly tore into their set from the off, blasting through a venomous, empowering “Nobody’s Hero”, the hookline of “be what you are!”being delivered with gusto from imposing, gravel-throated vocalist Jake Burns, then incredibly, they turned up the wick even further for “At The Edge” and “Roots Radicals Rockers and Reggae”. A stunning opening triple salvo!

“Saturday night in Bristol!” was again Burns’ rallying cry, before a set well balanced between first-time-round old favourites, and a clutch of newies gathered together on last year’s “No Going Back” CD, most of those eliciting lengthy introductions from Burns. Thus we had some pointed advice on dealing with depression (“talk to your friends [about it] – there’s no stigma”) before “My Dark Places”, a sideswipe at the Catholic church before an almost-folky “Guilty As Sin”, and a story about a night out with Phil Lynott (“we got drunk like only two blokes from Ireland can”) prior to the lament for lost youth and friends, “When We Were Young”. The older numbers (a snarling “Straw Dogs” and bilious “Fly The Flag” being a late-set double highlight) were largely dispensed with without introductions, Jake – unexpectedly in this, an election year - keeping his commentaries personal rather than political, letting these strident versions speak for themselves.

All too soon we’d raced through the set, Burns complimenting the “astonishing” crowd (who’d gone nuts from note one, a frenzied moshpit lasting throughout the set) with, “we’ve been coming here to play for 36 years and you’ve never let us down yet”, rounding the set off with a superb “Suspect Device”. The night was then capped off with 2 encores; firstly “a hippy song”, a well-executed cover of Elvis Costello’s “(What’s So Funny ‘Bout) Peace Love And Understanding”, and a powerful, incendiary “Wasted life”, before the inevitable final “Alternative Ulster” ended 1 ½ hours of vintage punk rock, delivered by a band who clearly aren’t allowing age to extinguish their fire.

So, a couple of fine performances tonight; a highly promising new lot in Electric River, and a fiery, vintage showing from Stiff Little Fingers, proving utterly worthy of their Number 2 “most seen” spot for me. Back again, same time next year? Count on it!