Archive for the ‘live’ Category

High Voltage is yet another addition to the burgeoning series of summer festivals currently plaguing London. Setting itself as a potential competitor to the global Sonisphere Festival which sits alongside the established Download and Reading Festivals, High Voltage boasts a simple three stages: Classic Rock, Metal Hammer and Prog Rock. Located in Victoria Park, East London, this festival of elders could potentially attract up to three generations of rockers.

A short walk from Mile End tube station leads to Victoria Park. En route, there is a pub carving up a whole, roasted pig for wandering rockers. The dress code for today generally includes men sporting black t-shirts with amusing slogans like ‘More rock than a crack house’ printed on the chest. ‘WALK WITH ME IN HELL!’ demands an average sullenly clothed posterior. If there’s an IT crisis somewhere in London this weekend, the experts are likely to be contained within these temporary, green walls.

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I went to see Australian ‘jazz’ trio, The Necks on Saturday night. It was, without doubt, one of the greatest live performances I’ve ever seen. For a trio equipped with traditional acoustic instruments normally associated with jazz, they produced some of the most inspiring and intoxicating music I’d ever heard in a live environment. Not only that – but they made it up as they went along. For a detailed review, check out the report on Mapsadaisical’s site or this one by Adam Wood.

Such is the irony, that the people that call themselves ‘music fans’ and went along to the 40th anniversary of the Glastonbury Festival Of Contemporary Performing Arts and completely missed this should be kicking their sunburned arses for the remainder of the year.

On the final night of the Meltdown Festival (curated by Richard Thompson), Broken Bells make their European live debut. A giant screen dominates the stage at the Royal Festival Hall: a screen that will host flickering abstract images of warm technicolour magically rendered to look like nostalgic footage captured in the late ‘60s on Super 8.

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I went to see Paul McCartney last night, and it was fab. North Greenwich is playing host to a German Christmas market at the moment (are the Germans better at Christmas than the British, or something?) and I enjoyed the overpriced smoked sausage and Glühwein on offer with a couple of cold cigarettes.

After Macca’s X-Factor performance, I wasn’t expecting too much, but opening the show with ‘Magical Mystery Tour’ helped strip some of that cynicism away. Much of the  set was par for the course with the exception of ‘Mrs Vandebilt’, ‘Wonderful Christmas Time’,  ‘Paperback Writer’ and ‘Mull of Kintyre’ which featured the Balmoral Highlanders complete with all necessary wailing accoutrements. It’s not a favourite song of mine by any means, but it was one hell of a spectacle.

So, yes, McCartney was worth that hefty £137 price tag. Would I do it again? On the strength of this performance, I probably would. Overall, the set was his strongest yet and the band were exact. The only letdown came from the audience who, around my area at least, were the most reticent, miserable bunch of rich, middle-class fuckwits I’ve ever had the misfortune to come across – well, since WOMAD anyway.

It wasn’t all good: he played some stuff from The Fireman; a couple of duff solo tracks surfaced; ‘Helter Skelter’ is now a bit of a pastiche; ‘Live and Let Die’ is only explosive if you’re a Macca concert virgin; and ‘A Day In The Life’ is really not what it should be without John.  

For a more detailed review, check out Caitlin Moran’s, cos I’m too tired to get into it fully.

Setlist:

‘Magical Mystery Tour’

‘Drive My Car’

‘Jet’

‘Only Mama Knows’

‘Flaming Pie’

‘Got To Get You Into My Life’

‘Let Me Roll It’/'Foxy Lady’

‘Highway’

‘The Long And Winding Road’

‘I Want To Come Home’

‘My Love’

‘Blackbird’

‘Here Today’

‘Dance Tonight’

‘And I Love Her’

‘Eleanor Rigby’

‘Leaning On A Lamp Post’/'Something’

‘Mrs Vandebilt’

‘Sing The Changes’

‘Wonderful Christmas Time’

‘Band On The Run’

‘Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da’

‘Back In The USSR’

‘I’ve Got A Feeling’

‘Paperback Writer’

‘A Day In The Life’/'Give Peace A Chance’

‘Let It Be’

‘Live And Let Die’

‘Hey Jude’

‘Day Tripper’

‘Lady Madonna’

‘Get Back’

‘Yesterday’

‘Helter Skelter’

‘Mull Of Kintyre’

‘Sgt Pepper’/'The End’

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Living Colour have, ironically, achieved a semblance of cult status in the UK. MTV hit ‘Cult Of Personality’ (from 1988 album, Vivid) is part of the Guitar Hero franchise; their single ‘Love rears its ugly head’ broke into the UK charts and the album of the same name went on to win a ‘coveted’ Grammy award. It was ‘Love rears’ that suckered the 15 year old me into buying a Living Colour album and I can still recall wandering into Woolworth’s to pick up the tape for £5.99. ‘Time’s Up’ was the second album to change my life (the first was Public Enemy’s ‘It Takes A Nation Of Millions’). But ‘Love rears’ is not representative of ‘Time’s Up’. The album is a sprawling fusion of shred metal, funk and hip-hop, positively laced with pro-black messages. Shocked by the metallic screams of Vernon Reid’s guitar, I unspooled the tape, crumpled it with my fist and went back to the store hoping for an exchange. But the store assistant just reached back into a grey drawer labelled ‘A-L’ and pulled out another copy of the album. I was destined to own ‘Time’s Up’, and it is the album that convinced me to pick up the guitar and want to be a professional musician.

Living Colour’s latest album, ‘The Chair In The Doorway’, is their least accomplished, so fans of the band’s twenty year career were probably hoping for a set of classics with a few new songs thrown in to provide sufficient time for bathroom and bar breaks. Judging from the audience demographic, this assumption played about right. Living Colour are no longer attracting a new, young audience – their new album is not winning new fans, so the band find themselves playing to long time fans with unwilling, yet gracious partners.

Warped instrumental, WTFF, sounds from of the PA and singer Corey Glover bounces out from the wings. Warming our hands to his presence, the remainder of the band follow. Glover sports a curious outfit: the combination of heavy yellow apron and goggles lends him the appearance of an aquatic car mechanic. The first two tracks (‘Ignorance Is Bliss’ and ‘Which Way To America’) zip by, and the sound – the sound – is simultaneously crisp, full and crunchy. The muddied production of the last two Living Colour albums is replaced by the relatively melodic overtones of ‘Stain’. From that album, a fantastic rendition of ‘Auslander’ follows, and then a handful of tracks from the new album of which, in fairness, ‘Decadance’ fairs well. The noticeable drop in enthusiasm pushes the band to play ‘Go Away’ and ‘Funny Vibe’ with great aplomb but, suddenly, the quality tails off.

Aside from asking fans to vote Labour at the next election, one of the quickest ways to dampen an audience’s spirit is to dedicate a song to victims of terrorism. If that’s not enough to flatten the mood, give the drummer some and let him solo for 10 minutes while the rest of the band take a break. It’s 2009 – not 1989. No one with ears cares one jot for a drum solo mid-set (rock drummers don’t have ears – that’s fact); no one particularly wants to be reminded about tragic events when paying to have a good time. No one wants to vote Labour…

Thankfully, Living Colour aren’t overtly pro-Gordo, but their anti-terrorist spiel implies some tacit affection. With no fans in the room, winning the audience back would be a Herculean task. As if sensing this, the band play ‘Cult Of Personality’ and even the walls seem to sing along. It’s ridiculous how quickly we, the audience, forgive artists – because it’s this impetuous forgiveness that inhibits artist development. The longer fans continue to forgive and fawn over favoured artists, irrespective of clanging, heinous, cringing callousness; we can expect to see less of the genuine artist we fell in love with as they slip away, drowned in a sea of forced solipsism.

The rising cult of Living Colour should not usurp their natural growth or stop them taking their place in the pantheon of Black Rock. A mostly enjoyable night for the fan, Living Colour can – and should – be far more popular than they are. It is on occasions such as this, when it becomes apparent why they are not.

Personal reflection is probably frowned upon in what should really be objective journalism, but so entwined is my musical development with Living Colour’s career that I couldn’t help but speak to Reid at the end of the show. Shaking hands, he embraced me after I told him my story. Emotional, there was no way I could explain to him what I have written here, and before I could even think to, the friends vying for his attention won before I could gather my nerve. Nonetheless, I will forever have the solace of that moment.