So, since the gigs will be tapering off slightly now that I'm not in London I'll be adding some new things to my blog. Some about my research, some about my struggles to be a fan of British music in the States, and some of my random ramblings on various topics. This entry is one of the latter...
What a Waster?
Pete Doherty in America
I’m in a minority in America-- I’m a Pete Doherty fan. The thing that surprises most Americans about Pete isn’t the shocking number of drug charges he’s racked up in the past few years. Or his bimonthly Youtube escapades with a brigade of kittens. It’s that he’s relatively famous in Britain. Besides the rare mention on E! as Kate Moss’ former erstwhile boyfriend and a lone Spin cover last year, Pete is largely under the radar in the United States. It’s a strange situation; he’s been selling tabloids for years in England, but Americans would be hard pressed to pick him out of a lineup of weedy, trilby-bedecked pale guys.
Why? Well, it certainly doesn’t help that his criminal record makes it virtually impossible for him to tour the U.S, leaving his work with Babyshambles and his stunning new solo effort, Grace/Wastelands, unpromoted. This would be a major problem for any artist, but it’s especially bad news for Pete because a lot of his shambolic charm is lost if you don’t get the live experience. I saw him twice in London this spring, with Babyshambles and then solo, and his performances profoundly changed the way I listen to his music. The emotion he brings to his lyrics in a live show lingers when you hear his albums again. Doherty can be infuriating-- he showed up at 2 a.m. for the Shambles gig I saw-- but he’s also incredibly compelling on stage. It might be his saving grace in the UK; no matter what he’s doing in the tabloids, he’s an undeniable talent.
The upside to Doherty’s complete lack of publicity in America is a lack of bad publicity. After years of exposure to Pete painting with his own blood, canceling strings of gigs, and cavorting online with Amy Winehouse and a litter of mice, English audiences have every right to be skeptical about the quality of his music. His reputation here is much more innocuous; “Isn’t that the guy who used to date Kate Moss? He does music?” He has an opportunity, especially in his new incarnation as the more serious, professional ‘Peter’ Doherty, to win over the US market. He doesn’t have to win over an alienated or critical audience, just win fans for the first time. Which should be easy if he can keep up the new persona; when he’s sober, it becomes apparent that he’s witty, likable, and an incredibly gifted performer.
So why not just push Grace/Wastelands without a tour? The album is terrific-- easily Pete’s most put-together, relaxed, accessible work. But is it accessible enough for an uninitiated audience? Half the joy of Pete’s work for UK fans is in the complex mythology of his musical past, the autobiographical nature of his work and legendarily volatile partnership with Carl Barat. Most of his fans have been listening since The Libertines (and listening hard; the crowd knew every word during his gig at Camden’s Proud in April, even when he broke out Libs b-side The Ha-ha Wall). It’s questionable whether he could make it without that kind of intensely dedicated fanbase, as well as the fawning support of the NME and the irrefutable evidence of his talent in the form of Up the Bracket. Plus there’s no real niche for him in America, no easy way to explain him to prospective listeners. At home he’s got an entire battalion of bands like The View and The Courteeners who desperately want to be The Libertines, bringing his music into at least a tributary of the mainstream. Here he’d be competing with the likes of Rihanna and Coldplay for radio time and end up falsely classified with acoustic, shoegazing American indie that populates our college radio stations.
Another huge hurdle might be the inherent Englishness of Pete’s music. In truth, it’s one of the things I find most compelling about his work. His vision of England as a Blakeian Albion is elegant and unique, but there’s no guarantee it will make any sense to a listener in San Diego. And even if it does, will it strike the same nerve of bittersweet nationalism? Lyrics have always been Pete’s strong point; Carl was the one who shaped The Lib’s punk sound. But understanding the myriad references, from Wilde to Stoppard, takes some investment and repeat spins, and will mean nothing to a casual listener. American audiences might wonder why they should bother dealing with “gin in teacups and leaves on the lawn” when they can just have “sex on fire.”
Like his notoriously unstable gigs, Pete Doherty’s image in America goes in a thousand directions. His image might be better without the constant parade of Sun covers, but he also might need that extra push of publicity--even the negative kind that spins him as a tragic genius/junkie-- to overcome the challenges that his nuanced, deeply British music presents for an international audience.
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Just Give Me A Second, Darling
White Lies
Heaven, May 7
My very last concert in London bookended with one of the first I saw. Having been pleasantly surprised and impressed by White Lies at their album preview in January, I wanted to see them in a real concert setting. This gig was significantly larger than the earlier one; their album debuted on top of the chart in the UK, so their two nights at strangely cavernous club Heaven sold out quickly. This resulted in an interesting excursion day-of to pick up ebayed tickets from a 50 year old German man named Hans outside Aldgate East tube station. In Jenna's words, "I felt like we were doing a drug deal."
Having prevailed over some kind of water main problem outside, we ventured to Heaven in time to catch the second half of opener School of Seven Bells. They've been getting a lot of buzz, but I think half of a set was about all I needed. Their mix of ethereal harmonies and heavy, twisting guitar is certainly interesting, but most of their songs sound very similar. While not terrible, the most interesting thing about the band was their Cillian Murphy doppelganger guitarist and his strange dancing.
White Lies appeared after a brief interval and played most of their album. That's both the up and down side to bands with only one album in their repetoire; you get to hear every song you like, but there's very little surprise. Some highlights of the set included singles To Lose My Life and Farewell to the Fairground, as well as gloomy Joy Division homage Unfinished Business. A surprise favorite of mine ended up being a stripped down version of slow-burning Nothing to Give. They returned for an encore that included an up-tempo new track and stunning closer Death.
White Lies has much in common with several bands from the past couple of years. Their gloom-rock, black clothes, stripped down lights aesthetic shares a lot with The Rakes, Editors, newer Horrors, etc., but the thing that surprises is how young the band is. Still teenagers when they formed White Lies precursor Fear of Flying, the band has just cracked their twenties and perform like consummate professionals. Harry McVeigh has the stiff, serious kind of showmanship that Brandon Flowers could have if he toned down the nerves and the weird dancing (McVeigh also has moments when he breaks the Curtis drone and sounds a bit like B. Flo.). They have the charisma in their music to play arenas if they can avoid the sophomore album curse and expand on the dark, dramatic sound that makes To Lose My Life such a fantastic album.
Heaven, May 7
My very last concert in London bookended with one of the first I saw. Having been pleasantly surprised and impressed by White Lies at their album preview in January, I wanted to see them in a real concert setting. This gig was significantly larger than the earlier one; their album debuted on top of the chart in the UK, so their two nights at strangely cavernous club Heaven sold out quickly. This resulted in an interesting excursion day-of to pick up ebayed tickets from a 50 year old German man named Hans outside Aldgate East tube station. In Jenna's words, "I felt like we were doing a drug deal."
Having prevailed over some kind of water main problem outside, we ventured to Heaven in time to catch the second half of opener School of Seven Bells. They've been getting a lot of buzz, but I think half of a set was about all I needed. Their mix of ethereal harmonies and heavy, twisting guitar is certainly interesting, but most of their songs sound very similar. While not terrible, the most interesting thing about the band was their Cillian Murphy doppelganger guitarist and his strange dancing.
White Lies appeared after a brief interval and played most of their album. That's both the up and down side to bands with only one album in their repetoire; you get to hear every song you like, but there's very little surprise. Some highlights of the set included singles To Lose My Life and Farewell to the Fairground, as well as gloomy Joy Division homage Unfinished Business. A surprise favorite of mine ended up being a stripped down version of slow-burning Nothing to Give. They returned for an encore that included an up-tempo new track and stunning closer Death.
White Lies has much in common with several bands from the past couple of years. Their gloom-rock, black clothes, stripped down lights aesthetic shares a lot with The Rakes, Editors, newer Horrors, etc., but the thing that surprises is how young the band is. Still teenagers when they formed White Lies precursor Fear of Flying, the band has just cracked their twenties and perform like consummate professionals. Harry McVeigh has the stiff, serious kind of showmanship that Brandon Flowers could have if he toned down the nerves and the weird dancing (McVeigh also has moments when he breaks the Curtis drone and sounds a bit like B. Flo.). They have the charisma in their music to play arenas if they can avoid the sophomore album curse and expand on the dark, dramatic sound that makes To Lose My Life such a fantastic album.
Friday, May 1, 2009
A Strange Education
The Cinematics
Barfly, Camden, April 30
Lanette and I made our way to her last and my second to last gig at Camden's Barfly for The Cinematics. There was a rather large number of support acts, so we came in time to catch the last of the three, The Hip Parade (identified by the word HIP emblazoned on their instruments with electrical tape). Barfly's miniscule size made their set a little louder than was perhaps necessary, but their upbeat, chant-heavy, Franz Ferdinand-esque rock was a pleasant surprise. Some people in the crowd were...a little more enthusiastic than we were (re: extreme over-dancing), but they were an easy opener to watch.
After a short break, The Cinematics emerged. Actually they emerged from the side door and walked through the crowd past us to get to the stage. It's seriously a tiny venue. Their set was made up mostly of tracks from debut album A Strange Education, although they introduced a few new songs to preview their upcoming sophomore effort. Title track from said album, Love and Terror, was a standout, as was b-side Wish (when the banks collapse), the rare track with political commentary that I could actually stomach.
Some of my favorites for the evening were Maybe Someday, A Strange Education, and Rise & Fall. The Cinematics keep up the kind of gloom-rock aesthetic favored by contemporaries like Interpol and White Lies. Namely a lot of severe black suits, square, military inspired jackets, and slicked back hair. The exception was the guy in ironic thick glasses and suspenders who apparently got The Cinematics confused with another band. Wish I could have gotten a good picture, but the angle was terrible.
The verdict? Like White Lies, The Cinematics' music is much improved by live performance, which really energizes it. Seeing them in a really tiny venue was fun; one of the really great things about London is getting to see so many bands in such intimate locales. They make me want to see Interpol live, to see if the trend of bands like this being stellar live continues.
Barfly, Camden, April 30
Lanette and I made our way to her last and my second to last gig at Camden's Barfly for The Cinematics. There was a rather large number of support acts, so we came in time to catch the last of the three, The Hip Parade (identified by the word HIP emblazoned on their instruments with electrical tape). Barfly's miniscule size made their set a little louder than was perhaps necessary, but their upbeat, chant-heavy, Franz Ferdinand-esque rock was a pleasant surprise. Some people in the crowd were...a little more enthusiastic than we were (re: extreme over-dancing), but they were an easy opener to watch.
After a short break, The Cinematics emerged. Actually they emerged from the side door and walked through the crowd past us to get to the stage. It's seriously a tiny venue. Their set was made up mostly of tracks from debut album A Strange Education, although they introduced a few new songs to preview their upcoming sophomore effort. Title track from said album, Love and Terror, was a standout, as was b-side Wish (when the banks collapse), the rare track with political commentary that I could actually stomach.
Some of my favorites for the evening were Maybe Someday, A Strange Education, and Rise & Fall. The Cinematics keep up the kind of gloom-rock aesthetic favored by contemporaries like Interpol and White Lies. Namely a lot of severe black suits, square, military inspired jackets, and slicked back hair. The exception was the guy in ironic thick glasses and suspenders who apparently got The Cinematics confused with another band. Wish I could have gotten a good picture, but the angle was terrible.
The verdict? Like White Lies, The Cinematics' music is much improved by live performance, which really energizes it. Seeing them in a really tiny venue was fun; one of the really great things about London is getting to see so many bands in such intimate locales. They make me want to see Interpol live, to see if the trend of bands like this being stellar live continues.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Camden Town Leisure Piracy
Camden Crawl
April 24-25, Camden
Friday:
Art Brut
The Whip
Echo and the Bunnymen
Saturday:
Little Boots
The Maccabees
Frankmusik
I had very high hopes for the weekend of Camden Crawl. Loads of bands that I love, in venues that I love, in my favorite part of London. What could be better? Well, actually seeing those bands in the venues would have been a good start. The problem with Camden Crawl wasn't the lineup, or the bands themselves, but the organization. From moment one there were huge conflicts. Friday night: Yeah Yeah Yeahs and opener The Virgins in conflict with Art Brut and Echo and the Bunnymen. I ended up choosing Art Brut/Echo after seeing the massive queue for YYY's and realizing that we would entirely miss Virgins trying to get in.
Having waited in yet another massive queue to pick up our wristbands, we trekked across Camden to Koko and got in just as Art Brut started their set. Eddie Argos is the obvious star of the band, even though the drummer had a fabulous combination of handlebar mustache, madras shorts, and high socks. Plus he stood the whole time, which was an interesting tactic for drumming. Argos got into the set with a crowd invasion, and had fairly substantial chats with the audience between numbers. A high energy set that included new single Alcoholics Unanimous, The Passenger, DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshakes, Modern Art, Pump Up the Volume, (my personal favorite) Emily Kane and the surprise closer Formed a Band was a great way to kick off the evening. Impromptu lyric changes, particularly the clever switch-up of "stop stealing your albums from the internet" in Formed a Band,, were one of the best parts of the set. The other highlight was discovering that Argos really does talk like that all the time.
The space between Art Brut and the night's headliner was lesser known band The Whip. I went in with no real expectations about their music, and was in for an incredibly pleasant surprise. The Manchester four-piece has been a part of the festival scene for a few years, but their brand of electro/dance/rock isn't the sort of thing I normally go for. However, they were spot-on live and got the entire crowd dancing, an impressive feat in notoriously hard-to-impress Camden. Between the great music and the perfectly coordinated light show, I could have watched The Whip for a much longer set. They were by far my favorite band of the weekend, and one that you absolutely need to see live. Although their album is fantastic, the music just isn't the same when it's not heard in the midst of in a dancing crowd. Particular standouts from the set were the icy, angular Sister Siam and my personal favorite, Trash. Download it now.
The Whip
The crowd crammed in after The Whip for Echo and the Bunnymen, who felt almost underwhelming after the previous set. One of the great generation of dark synth indie that I adore, I had been looking forward to their gig for ages. Their music is the foundation for some of the stuff coming out of Britain now (my favorite of 2009, White Lies, included). While the new music that they're touring in support of is enjoyable, the obvious highlights of the set were their classic tracks. Lips Like Sugar, Bring on the Dancing Horses, The Cutter and, of course, The Killing Moon, were the night's most memorable moments. The tracks were well spaced in the set, and strong playing made it an enjoyable end to the evening.
Echo and the Bunnymen
Day two started off in hopes of avoiding the line issues of the day before by arriving earlier, but we were faced with similar struggles with organization. Headliner Kasabian was the only big draw for the night, and when we scored wristbands (after a protracted wait in a rather undifferentiated line) for the Roundhouse, we thought we were golden. However, we discovered that our wristbands were good only for the first half of the night (Little Boots and The Maccabees). While I'd already seen The View, missing Kasabian was a massive disappointment when we found out that wristbands for Kasabian could only be collected during the Maccabees set. Sigh.
Little Boots (actually the stage name of British songstress Victoria Hesketh), would have been entertaining if it weren't for the incredibly awful lack of balance between the bass and the rest of the music. We moved to the back of the Roundhouse after we noted that we could actually feel our internal organs vibrating independently. Unfortunate. Little Boots did some electronic stuff not entirely dissimilar to The Whip, with a much more disco edge. Highlights from the set included Stuck on Repeat and Mathematics. We spent the time in between acts using iPhone wiki to discover that the odd thing she used to create the beats for her songs was the Japanese 'instrument' tenori-on. The more you know...
The Maccabees emerged next, playing the kind of terrific up-tempo show that they produced at matter in February, minus the bone-crushing violence of the crowd. I'm completely in love with new singles No Kind Words and Love You Better,, particularly the amazing tempo change at the end of NKW. All the new tracks from Wall of Arms have the same kind of frenetic energy that Colour It In possesses, but the new complexity of their arrangements suggests a band that is maturing as they record. I especially enjoyed the title track and William Powers, and finally got my wish for a live version of Toothpaste Kisses, along with X-Ray, Precious Time, First Love, and Lego. Still, woefully, no sign of my favorite track Latchmere.
Afterward we spent some time wandering Camden and catching a few local acts before checking out the strange genre collision that is Frankmusik at Koko. Not really sure what was going on there. There was some beatboxing, some actually decent singing, the late appearance of a bass that led to much confusion, and an overall feeling of mediocrity that led us to leave about 5 songs into the set. Frankly...okay, I won't do a bad pun. A little more wandering let us catch some snippets of more local bands at the Monarch and Hawley Arms, home of one of my favorite obscure bands, The Brute Chorus.
The verdict for the weekend? Great crowds-- a terrific representation of what the London music scene is about. An interesting mix of people (okay, heavily biased toward hipsters, but still much more diverse than anything you'd see in America). Definite respect for classic and new bands alike. Fabulous acts, appalling organization. The Whip was a fantastic surprise, The Maccabees and Art Brut delivered, and Echo was a fun, nostalgic set. Little Boots dislodged my spleen but taught me what a tenori-on is. Phew. The end.
April 24-25, Camden
Friday:
Art Brut
The Whip
Echo and the Bunnymen
Saturday:
Little Boots
The Maccabees
Frankmusik
I had very high hopes for the weekend of Camden Crawl. Loads of bands that I love, in venues that I love, in my favorite part of London. What could be better? Well, actually seeing those bands in the venues would have been a good start. The problem with Camden Crawl wasn't the lineup, or the bands themselves, but the organization. From moment one there were huge conflicts. Friday night: Yeah Yeah Yeahs and opener The Virgins in conflict with Art Brut and Echo and the Bunnymen. I ended up choosing Art Brut/Echo after seeing the massive queue for YYY's and realizing that we would entirely miss Virgins trying to get in.
Having waited in yet another massive queue to pick up our wristbands, we trekked across Camden to Koko and got in just as Art Brut started their set. Eddie Argos is the obvious star of the band, even though the drummer had a fabulous combination of handlebar mustache, madras shorts, and high socks. Plus he stood the whole time, which was an interesting tactic for drumming. Argos got into the set with a crowd invasion, and had fairly substantial chats with the audience between numbers. A high energy set that included new single Alcoholics Unanimous, The Passenger, DC Comics and Chocolate Milkshakes, Modern Art, Pump Up the Volume, (my personal favorite) Emily Kane and the surprise closer Formed a Band was a great way to kick off the evening. Impromptu lyric changes, particularly the clever switch-up of "stop stealing your albums from the internet" in Formed a Band,, were one of the best parts of the set. The other highlight was discovering that Argos really does talk like that all the time.
The space between Art Brut and the night's headliner was lesser known band The Whip. I went in with no real expectations about their music, and was in for an incredibly pleasant surprise. The Manchester four-piece has been a part of the festival scene for a few years, but their brand of electro/dance/rock isn't the sort of thing I normally go for. However, they were spot-on live and got the entire crowd dancing, an impressive feat in notoriously hard-to-impress Camden. Between the great music and the perfectly coordinated light show, I could have watched The Whip for a much longer set. They were by far my favorite band of the weekend, and one that you absolutely need to see live. Although their album is fantastic, the music just isn't the same when it's not heard in the midst of in a dancing crowd. Particular standouts from the set were the icy, angular Sister Siam and my personal favorite, Trash. Download it now.
The Whip
The crowd crammed in after The Whip for Echo and the Bunnymen, who felt almost underwhelming after the previous set. One of the great generation of dark synth indie that I adore, I had been looking forward to their gig for ages. Their music is the foundation for some of the stuff coming out of Britain now (my favorite of 2009, White Lies, included). While the new music that they're touring in support of is enjoyable, the obvious highlights of the set were their classic tracks. Lips Like Sugar, Bring on the Dancing Horses, The Cutter and, of course, The Killing Moon, were the night's most memorable moments. The tracks were well spaced in the set, and strong playing made it an enjoyable end to the evening.
Echo and the Bunnymen
Day two started off in hopes of avoiding the line issues of the day before by arriving earlier, but we were faced with similar struggles with organization. Headliner Kasabian was the only big draw for the night, and when we scored wristbands (after a protracted wait in a rather undifferentiated line) for the Roundhouse, we thought we were golden. However, we discovered that our wristbands were good only for the first half of the night (Little Boots and The Maccabees). While I'd already seen The View, missing Kasabian was a massive disappointment when we found out that wristbands for Kasabian could only be collected during the Maccabees set. Sigh.
Little Boots (actually the stage name of British songstress Victoria Hesketh), would have been entertaining if it weren't for the incredibly awful lack of balance between the bass and the rest of the music. We moved to the back of the Roundhouse after we noted that we could actually feel our internal organs vibrating independently. Unfortunate. Little Boots did some electronic stuff not entirely dissimilar to The Whip, with a much more disco edge. Highlights from the set included Stuck on Repeat and Mathematics. We spent the time in between acts using iPhone wiki to discover that the odd thing she used to create the beats for her songs was the Japanese 'instrument' tenori-on. The more you know...
The Maccabees emerged next, playing the kind of terrific up-tempo show that they produced at matter in February, minus the bone-crushing violence of the crowd. I'm completely in love with new singles No Kind Words and Love You Better,, particularly the amazing tempo change at the end of NKW. All the new tracks from Wall of Arms have the same kind of frenetic energy that Colour It In possesses, but the new complexity of their arrangements suggests a band that is maturing as they record. I especially enjoyed the title track and William Powers, and finally got my wish for a live version of Toothpaste Kisses, along with X-Ray, Precious Time, First Love, and Lego. Still, woefully, no sign of my favorite track Latchmere.
Afterward we spent some time wandering Camden and catching a few local acts before checking out the strange genre collision that is Frankmusik at Koko. Not really sure what was going on there. There was some beatboxing, some actually decent singing, the late appearance of a bass that led to much confusion, and an overall feeling of mediocrity that led us to leave about 5 songs into the set. Frankly...okay, I won't do a bad pun. A little more wandering let us catch some snippets of more local bands at the Monarch and Hawley Arms, home of one of my favorite obscure bands, The Brute Chorus.
The verdict for the weekend? Great crowds-- a terrific representation of what the London music scene is about. An interesting mix of people (okay, heavily biased toward hipsters, but still much more diverse than anything you'd see in America). Definite respect for classic and new bands alike. Fabulous acts, appalling organization. The Whip was a fantastic surprise, The Maccabees and Art Brut delivered, and Echo was a fun, nostalgic set. Little Boots dislodged my spleen but taught me what a tenori-on is. Phew. The end.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Pipedown
Peter Doherty
Proud, Camden, April 22
I went into my second Doherty Experience with a certain amount of trepidation, given our previous encounter (see: Peter Doherty and the Angry Manager). I was happy to hear that this gig was at Proud, which has the advantage of not being a cave with a fence in front of the stage. Plus the new, improved 'Peter' Doherty, touring in support of Grace/Wastelands, is supposed to be much more professional than his previous incarnations in The Libertines and Babyshambles.
Paddy (possibly the only person I have ever encountered who is as rabid a Libs fan as me) seemed certain that Pete would be on after the ONE (and ONLY! THE ONLY ONE!) opener (I believe they were called The Youves) who were forgettable but inoffensive. I had more doubts, having experienced the carnage that was Daddy and the Good Girls, but Pete in fact arrived by 10:45. I'm currently in the process of nominating this to the church as a miracle. Unlike the last impromptu Babyshambles gig, this set was just Pete and an acoustic guitar for most songs, and very enjoyable. He was also looking quite dapper and healthy, a nice surprise. He kicked off with What a Waster, starting a trend of Libertines songs that continued through the evening.
Pete considers becoming Amish
Set:
What a Waster
The Good Old Days
Arcady
Lady Don't Fall Backward
Delivery
Time for Heroes
Don't Look Back into the Sun
Music When the Lights Go Out
Albion
Last of the English Roses
Merry Go Round
Death on the Stairs
The Ha Ha Wall
For Lovers
1939 Returning
The mix of old and new was nice, although I particularly enjoyed hearing a few more Libertines tracks. When you see Pete alone, the appearance of songs like Music When the Lights Go Out and Radio America in the generally more punk oeuvre of The Libs is clarified. Although Carl is generally acknowledged as the better musician, Pete has a touch for lyrics and emotion that Carl's rock tendencies usually blunt (exceptions like Holly Golightly notwithstanding). For Lovers was fantastic live, as were the new Grace/Wastelands tracks, particularly Last of the English Roses and Arcady. Albion was a favorite, as always, and The Good Old Days (modified in the same way that it appears on Oh, What a Lovely Tour!) was also terrific, although much shorter than the original track.
Former Blur member Graham Coxon made up the "and guests" part of the bill, along with the two random ballerinas that have been appearing on stage during this tour. Coxon's appearance was brief, mostly just to provide some guitar support on Time for Heroes (still not the same without Carl).
Graham Coxon
The nicest surprise of the evening was old b-side The Ha Ha Wall,, and its appearance proved a point about Pete fans. Everyone in the crowd knew every word, something that was true of nearly all the tracks over the course of the evening. I've seen a lot of bands this spring who have new albums, and fans often stand around, looking a little blank, when they play new material live. Overall, Pete's fans knew even his new tracks. This is clearly helped by the fact that a number of them aren't strictly 'new'; his notorious habit of releasing demos for free online made songs like Last of the English Roses old favorites before they appeared on Grace/Wastelands.
The juxtaposition of the two gigs shows exactly why Pete is such a controversial figure; sometimes he infuriates you with his ridiculous antics, other times he is incredibly charismatic, likable, and talented. At least in the UK, his new album and more 'professional' tour seem to be winning him back some respect as an artist. I'm hoping it's a trend that continues.
Proud, Camden, April 22
I went into my second Doherty Experience with a certain amount of trepidation, given our previous encounter (see: Peter Doherty and the Angry Manager). I was happy to hear that this gig was at Proud, which has the advantage of not being a cave with a fence in front of the stage. Plus the new, improved 'Peter' Doherty, touring in support of Grace/Wastelands, is supposed to be much more professional than his previous incarnations in The Libertines and Babyshambles.
Paddy (possibly the only person I have ever encountered who is as rabid a Libs fan as me) seemed certain that Pete would be on after the ONE (and ONLY! THE ONLY ONE!) opener (I believe they were called The Youves) who were forgettable but inoffensive. I had more doubts, having experienced the carnage that was Daddy and the Good Girls, but Pete in fact arrived by 10:45. I'm currently in the process of nominating this to the church as a miracle. Unlike the last impromptu Babyshambles gig, this set was just Pete and an acoustic guitar for most songs, and very enjoyable. He was also looking quite dapper and healthy, a nice surprise. He kicked off with What a Waster, starting a trend of Libertines songs that continued through the evening.
Pete considers becoming Amish
Set:
What a Waster
The Good Old Days
Arcady
Lady Don't Fall Backward
Delivery
Time for Heroes
Don't Look Back into the Sun
Music When the Lights Go Out
Albion
Last of the English Roses
Merry Go Round
Death on the Stairs
The Ha Ha Wall
For Lovers
1939 Returning
The mix of old and new was nice, although I particularly enjoyed hearing a few more Libertines tracks. When you see Pete alone, the appearance of songs like Music When the Lights Go Out and Radio America in the generally more punk oeuvre of The Libs is clarified. Although Carl is generally acknowledged as the better musician, Pete has a touch for lyrics and emotion that Carl's rock tendencies usually blunt (exceptions like Holly Golightly notwithstanding). For Lovers was fantastic live, as were the new Grace/Wastelands tracks, particularly Last of the English Roses and Arcady. Albion was a favorite, as always, and The Good Old Days (modified in the same way that it appears on Oh, What a Lovely Tour!) was also terrific, although much shorter than the original track.
Former Blur member Graham Coxon made up the "and guests" part of the bill, along with the two random ballerinas that have been appearing on stage during this tour. Coxon's appearance was brief, mostly just to provide some guitar support on Time for Heroes (still not the same without Carl).
Graham Coxon
The nicest surprise of the evening was old b-side The Ha Ha Wall,, and its appearance proved a point about Pete fans. Everyone in the crowd knew every word, something that was true of nearly all the tracks over the course of the evening. I've seen a lot of bands this spring who have new albums, and fans often stand around, looking a little blank, when they play new material live. Overall, Pete's fans knew even his new tracks. This is clearly helped by the fact that a number of them aren't strictly 'new'; his notorious habit of releasing demos for free online made songs like Last of the English Roses old favorites before they appeared on Grace/Wastelands.
The juxtaposition of the two gigs shows exactly why Pete is such a controversial figure; sometimes he infuriates you with his ridiculous antics, other times he is incredibly charismatic, likable, and talented. At least in the UK, his new album and more 'professional' tour seem to be winning him back some respect as an artist. I'm hoping it's a trend that continues.
Monday, April 13, 2009
East London Is a Vampire
Bloc Party, Foals
Olympia, London, April 12
Headed out to the boondocks of southwest London tonight to see Bloc Party in the surprisingly giant and bright Olympia Hall. The venue was also surprisingly crowded by the time we got there; Val and I had been expecting a much smaller show, and one with less rabid fans, since most London gigs don't seem to attract crowds very early. This kind of enthusiasm should have been a sign of things to come, as should have the large number of neon-clad, underage hipsters, but we were happily oblivious.
First opener Wet Paint played the sort of generic, up-tempo rock that openers seem to favor. Not exactly bland, but monotonous enough to understand why they aren't headlining shows themselves. This combined with the lead singer's tendency to be painfully off-key made me quite happy when they kept their set short and made way for second support act Foals, who were much better and received a very warm welcome. Their sharp, angular songs were a good complement to Bloc Party, and their instrumental opener was especially remarkable. Tracks like Cassius and French Open were spot-on, and rivaled Bloc Party's set for quality. It was one of the few times when I would have actually enjoyed a longer set from an opener.
Foals
We knew things were going to go downhill when people started getting pulled out of the crowd two songs into Foals. When you can't survive the opening acts, the concert is going to be intense. (See Doherty, Peter. Rhythm Factory Disaster of '09.) The crowd was already pushing when they came on stage, and opener Halo kicked off a sort of flailing/moshing that continued for the entire gig.
Set List:
Halo
Hunting for Witches
Positive Tension
Talons
Signs
Song for Clay (Disappear Here)
Banquet
Blue Light
Uniform
Two More Years
Mercury
This Modern Love
The Prayer
Like Eating Glass
Helicopter
One Month Off
Price of Gasoline
Ares
Flux
The only breaks in the set were slower tracks Signs and Blue Light, while the rest was really energetic, in part because Kele egged the crowd on the entire time, even returning for the encore in a bunny suit (for Easter). Sound quality and playing were largely good, although a couple of songs suffered from being just a little louder than they needed to be (especially The Prayer and Ares). Mercury was one of the best parts of the set; it's one of my least favorite tracks on the album but live it's frenetic and dramatic and massive
Kele jumpstarts a new fashion trend
Other highlights included the genius transition between Song for Clay and Banquet, straight through from the drums of one into the other, and set closer Flux, which rivals Mercury as the most dramatic song of the nigh with its swooping laser show. It was the perfect end to the gig and left me wanting more even though I was incredibly tired of being stepped on/elbowed/touched by people who were disgustingly sweaty.
Bloc Party is definitely a London band and their music, with its constant references to Bethnal Green and Bishopsgate, really plays to the London crowd. Song for Clay is a particular favorite, with the crowd completely drowning out the band during the pivotal line ("East London is a vampire..."). This gig proved for me more than the rest that there's something really special about the connection between people in England and music. The percentage of people in crowds who know almost every word to every song is remarkable.
The only problem with Bloc Party is that they have so many good songs that some great ones have to be omitted. I was especially sad that they skipped Ion Square, particularly since they played it Saturday night, and On, Kreuzberg, or Waiting for the 7:18 would have been nice additions from the slightly underrepresented Weekend in the City. However, they did play a long and excellent set, so no real complaints.
The verdict? Bloc Party, spectacular. Foals, a very pleasant surprise. Wet Paint...the paint drying jokes write themselves.
Olympia, London, April 12
Headed out to the boondocks of southwest London tonight to see Bloc Party in the surprisingly giant and bright Olympia Hall. The venue was also surprisingly crowded by the time we got there; Val and I had been expecting a much smaller show, and one with less rabid fans, since most London gigs don't seem to attract crowds very early. This kind of enthusiasm should have been a sign of things to come, as should have the large number of neon-clad, underage hipsters, but we were happily oblivious.
First opener Wet Paint played the sort of generic, up-tempo rock that openers seem to favor. Not exactly bland, but monotonous enough to understand why they aren't headlining shows themselves. This combined with the lead singer's tendency to be painfully off-key made me quite happy when they kept their set short and made way for second support act Foals, who were much better and received a very warm welcome. Their sharp, angular songs were a good complement to Bloc Party, and their instrumental opener was especially remarkable. Tracks like Cassius and French Open were spot-on, and rivaled Bloc Party's set for quality. It was one of the few times when I would have actually enjoyed a longer set from an opener.
Foals
We knew things were going to go downhill when people started getting pulled out of the crowd two songs into Foals. When you can't survive the opening acts, the concert is going to be intense. (See Doherty, Peter. Rhythm Factory Disaster of '09.) The crowd was already pushing when they came on stage, and opener Halo kicked off a sort of flailing/moshing that continued for the entire gig.
Set List:
Halo
Hunting for Witches
Positive Tension
Talons
Signs
Song for Clay (Disappear Here)
Banquet
Blue Light
Uniform
Two More Years
Mercury
This Modern Love
The Prayer
Like Eating Glass
Helicopter
One Month Off
Price of Gasoline
Ares
Flux
The only breaks in the set were slower tracks Signs and Blue Light, while the rest was really energetic, in part because Kele egged the crowd on the entire time, even returning for the encore in a bunny suit (for Easter). Sound quality and playing were largely good, although a couple of songs suffered from being just a little louder than they needed to be (especially The Prayer and Ares). Mercury was one of the best parts of the set; it's one of my least favorite tracks on the album but live it's frenetic and dramatic and massive
Kele jumpstarts a new fashion trend
Other highlights included the genius transition between Song for Clay and Banquet, straight through from the drums of one into the other, and set closer Flux, which rivals Mercury as the most dramatic song of the nigh with its swooping laser show. It was the perfect end to the gig and left me wanting more even though I was incredibly tired of being stepped on/elbowed/touched by people who were disgustingly sweaty.
Bloc Party is definitely a London band and their music, with its constant references to Bethnal Green and Bishopsgate, really plays to the London crowd. Song for Clay is a particular favorite, with the crowd completely drowning out the band during the pivotal line ("East London is a vampire..."). This gig proved for me more than the rest that there's something really special about the connection between people in England and music. The percentage of people in crowds who know almost every word to every song is remarkable.
The only problem with Bloc Party is that they have so many good songs that some great ones have to be omitted. I was especially sad that they skipped Ion Square, particularly since they played it Saturday night, and On, Kreuzberg, or Waiting for the 7:18 would have been nice additions from the slightly underrepresented Weekend in the City. However, they did play a long and excellent set, so no real complaints.
The verdict? Bloc Party, spectacular. Foals, a very pleasant surprise. Wet Paint...the paint drying jokes write themselves.
Romance at Short Notice
Dirty Pretty Things
Proud, Camden, April 6
Former DPT members Anthony and Didz kicked off their new club night Younger Than Yesterday with a surprise reunion from DPT itself, followed by a DJ set from Jamie Klaxons (and a random appearance in the crowd from Harry McVeigh of White Lies). Liz and I had some initial skepticism about the evening, when we entered to the sounds of a rather strange mix of 80s and earlier kitsch that suggested questionable things to come. However, I astutely recognized Carl Barat from a side view of his hairstyle and the fact that he was virtually my height. A passing hipster helpfully asked us if DPT had played yet, so we knew to hang around and have some overpriced and low quality drinks (seriously Proud, who stocks your bar?)
The wait was quite short, and DPT appeared to do a (very, very, incredibly) short set. In true DPT style, it was a fairly ramshackle occasion. Gary had approximately 1/8 of a drum kit, Carl's guitar had some sort of malfunction, there were the prerequisite forgotten lyrics, and some really extensive conversations between Carl and Anthony (presumably deciding what song to play next?). However, the band seemed to be having fun on stage together again, which was great to see after their disappointing experience recording their second album, and subsequent breakup. Apparently the breakup was as amicable as they claimed, since they got together again in a shorter time than most bands take between tours.
The super-short set opened with Deadwood, followed by Gin & Milk, Bang Bang You're Dead, and BURMA. DPT seems to think that it's best to play their songs at the maximum possible speed, which makes things feel a bit frantic but also gives them more energy than the album versions. I would have liked to hear a track or two from Romance, but it was also great that they played old favorites. I was particuarly (and pleasantly) surprised to hear BURMA, which doesn't appear on the American release of Waterloo to Anywhere.
Didz
After the show the rest of the band disappeared, but Carl hung about the side of the stage and took pictures with people. Woe betide, my camera was dead so I took one on my phone and it's just a dark blob, but I know the truth. He mumbled at me apologetically and smiled. Well nice.
Proud, Camden, April 6
Former DPT members Anthony and Didz kicked off their new club night Younger Than Yesterday with a surprise reunion from DPT itself, followed by a DJ set from Jamie Klaxons (and a random appearance in the crowd from Harry McVeigh of White Lies). Liz and I had some initial skepticism about the evening, when we entered to the sounds of a rather strange mix of 80s and earlier kitsch that suggested questionable things to come. However, I astutely recognized Carl Barat from a side view of his hairstyle and the fact that he was virtually my height. A passing hipster helpfully asked us if DPT had played yet, so we knew to hang around and have some overpriced and low quality drinks (seriously Proud, who stocks your bar?)
The wait was quite short, and DPT appeared to do a (very, very, incredibly) short set. In true DPT style, it was a fairly ramshackle occasion. Gary had approximately 1/8 of a drum kit, Carl's guitar had some sort of malfunction, there were the prerequisite forgotten lyrics, and some really extensive conversations between Carl and Anthony (presumably deciding what song to play next?). However, the band seemed to be having fun on stage together again, which was great to see after their disappointing experience recording their second album, and subsequent breakup. Apparently the breakup was as amicable as they claimed, since they got together again in a shorter time than most bands take between tours.
The super-short set opened with Deadwood, followed by Gin & Milk, Bang Bang You're Dead, and BURMA. DPT seems to think that it's best to play their songs at the maximum possible speed, which makes things feel a bit frantic but also gives them more energy than the album versions. I would have liked to hear a track or two from Romance, but it was also great that they played old favorites. I was particuarly (and pleasantly) surprised to hear BURMA, which doesn't appear on the American release of Waterloo to Anywhere.
Didz
After the show the rest of the band disappeared, but Carl hung about the side of the stage and took pictures with people. Woe betide, my camera was dead so I took one on my phone and it's just a dark blob, but I know the truth. He mumbled at me apologetically and smiled. Well nice.
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