|
Thanks to a ‘bit of a queue’ (it took nearly 50 minutes to get in tonight) we managed to miss Maverick Sabre, who'd finished by 8.30. For some reason security was super tight this evening and everyone was patted down and checked for weapons. Weapons? Seriously? Is Snoop still the threat to civilisation that he was painted as being back in the day? Was there actually a threat of the East Coast / West Coast rivalry kicking off again in Digbeth? I think not. Anyway, having eventually got in and secured a prime balcony spot there was plenty of time to chill as Snoop remained in his kennel until just after 10pm. Why’s the balcony such a prime spot at a Snoop gig? Well, warm air rises right? And given the quantity of weed being consumed down below before lazily curling its way skywards it was a little like being in a giant bong up there. Sweet. |
|
I was lucky enough to see Florrie’s first Birmingham show earlier this year and she blew me away. Hey, I’m an old pop tart, what can I say? So a return date so soon after her first was just too much of a temptation to miss. Tonight was one of those early doors gigs (there was a club night afterwards) so the first act was already finishing when we arrived. No idea what he was called but I enjoyed his acoustic, slowed down cover of Outkast's Hey Ya. Next up the instant 80’s movie soundtrack machine that is The Light Cascades. There’s a show on E4 at the moment called Glory Daze (very good it is too...a bit like a weekly mini John Hughes movie) and it’s all set in an American college in 1986...you can imagine a Light Cascades track fitting right in on it. They had a few Friday 13th wobbles (the odd bum note and missed cue) but, to be fair, the audience was, let’s say...still select (i.e. there was hardly anyone there) and it can’t be easy playing to a near empty room. As with the last gig I saw them play though they pulled it out the bag with the pairing of their two best tracks ‘Flights’ and ‘Smile’ which is chocked full of feel good 80’s keyboards, electronic drum beats and lyrics “Chase the night you never want to end...” – how 80’s is that? Very...that ‘s how 80’s that is. There’s even a bit of vocoder at the end for good measure. Now That What I Call Music. |
|
Wow. Okay, perhaps that’s not the most eloquent review of all time but when you’ve just sat through an hour or so of some of the most beautiful, heartfelt music ever written it seems pretty apt. I was lucky enough to see this show last year and part of me didn’t want to risk seeing it a second time in case it somehow spoilt what was, quite frankly, one of the best gigs I’ve ever seen. I needn’t have worried. Before all that though opener Sarah Johns Music Party beguiled with a ‘sweet as sack of fluffy kittens’ set that included an awesome acapella number ‘Too Many Songs’ (which reminded me of the equally awesome Camille). |
|
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Given Blancmange’s 25 year absence that might go some way to explaining the rapturous reception the band got this evening. In fact I’ve seldom seen so much love for a band in my life. Remarkable. The applause began when Neil, Pandit and Graham (original keyboardist Stephen was cruelly diagnosed with an abdominal aortic aneurism…with complications…on the eve of the tour) came onstage and it was every bit as loud and enthusiastic when they left an hour or so later. |
|
What's the world coming to? I'm in The Library Room at the HMV Institute for a gig put on by BirminghamPromoters.com. Usually, Birmingham Promoters fill their calendar with up and coming bands as well as established artists with just a small dedicated following. Something about this gig isn't making sense. Instead of the usual band associated instruments; drum kit, guitars etc... Tonight there's nothing, not a jot. Unless you count a pair of decks, notebook pro, Kaos Pad and a microphone as instruments. Oh yeah! And a bare foot judge presiding over the scene. If you're a working roadie, I'd imagine a job with Beardyman must be considered an easy gig. |
|
By the time we got into the venue tonight it was packed as tight as a tin of agoraphobic sardines, which is pretty appropriate given the surf-tastic opening act Y Niwl. Yep. A Welsh surf band. Possibly the only Welsh surf band in the world too. That’ll make ‘em the best then. When I say surf band we’re not talking the Beach Boyos, Y Niwl’s brand of surf music is more Dick Dale and Link Wray, the kind of twangy instrumentals that Tarantino would slice his own ear off to have on one of his soundtracks. |
|
Ok, ok, ok. So I'm about 10 minutes late. I gather this because as I'm walking closer to the Hare and Hounds I hear a soft rumble of bass from over a street away. It seems as though Seams has already started his set. |
|
I do love a good cult artist. There’s something that warms the cockles of the heart about people who do what they do just ‘cos they love it...irrespective of whether they make shed loads of money along the way, win awards or get written about on Gig Junkies... Anyway, tonight there are two genuine ‘cult’ artists sharing a stage... more on them in a minute... but first up something of a local cult in the shape of opener, indie folker Ben Calvert. |
|
Well, it’s nearly Christmas. And that can only mean one thing. The Pogues are back on the road for one more ‘farewell’ tour. Whatever you may think of Shane MacGowen he is, let’s face it, a bit of a legend. Having drunk himself into the Albert Steptoe / Father Jack of Irish folk punk many years ago it’s nothing short of a miracle that he’s still here to entertain us but, judging by the boisterous sold out crowd tonight, all of whom battled arctic conditions to get here, the cult of MacGowen and co is in much better shape than the man himself. |
|
There aren’t many bands around that can trace their history back to the 1940’s (nope, not even The Rolling Stones...although, to be fair, Richards looks like he was around in the 1840’s these days). But, more than 60 years since they first played together (they were Errol Flynn’s party band for a while), The Jolly Boys are, incredibly, still going strong. Okay, to be honest there have been one or two line up changes (blame the grim reaper rather than ‘musical differences’ for most of them) but a fair number of the people on stage tonight have been Jolly Boys for the odd half a century or so. Not bad going eh? |
|
Imagine, just imagine, that The Graces of poetry and music summoned the likes of The Carpenters, Carole King, Julie London, Dusty Springfield, Bert Bacharch, Mary Coughlan and Herb Albert and asked them to kiss some of their magical muse upon this unassuming, singularly charismatic young lady, (BB already has) Sarah Joyce, who goes by the professional persona of Rumer (after a poet). She records an album; lovers go all moonstruck, kittens and puppies are sighed at in pet shops and your what to get you know who Christmas present dilemma is solved. Of Anglo/Pakistani descent and a history worthy of a tale she’s no overnight success but has worked doggedly these past six years to gain her deserved recognition. |
