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ventaLast night: the usual post-work pre-gig hurtle into London.
It did, however, feature something infinitely surprising. Sitting (for a very long time) on the platform at Kings Cross, waiting for a tube, I could vaguely hear a busker at the other end of the platform. It was crowded, and I couldn't see him, but could hear the rather raucous, but interesting, blues he was singing.
The song ended, on a yell of "that's all there is", and then... a round of applause. Yup, a hardened bunch of Northern line commuters spontaneously applauded a busker. I nearly fell off my feet.
Shortly afterwards, I nearly died of vanity. My connection having finally arrived and deposited me at Angel, I observed a huge queue for the one (working) escalator. Aware that I was running late and people were waiting for me, I elected to run up the empty, stationary escalator.
Now. Unfortunately, once I'd started running, vanity wouldn't let me give in and walk. Taken from a rather out-of-date underground trivia page, we have:
"The longest escalator is at the new Angel station on the City branch of the Northern Line."
'Nuff said.
As it happens, I did have to stop running before the end - but for different reasons. When running up stairs, I look directly at my feet, or I tend to miss steps and fall over most ungracefully. The pattern of lines on an escalator is actually quite difficult to look at, and after three-quarters of the escalator my eyes had lost the ability to focus, and the lines were shifting focal depth like some kind of possessed Magic Eye picture. It was most unpleasant, and making me dizzy.
All this waiting and dashing was occasioned because we were going to see Luke Haines and the Auteurs at the Carling Academy, Islington.
Sadly, the lateness of tubes and the necessity of getting some food meant that we missed the support act, Art Brut. So, with apologies to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
addedentry, I can't offer the requested opinion on them.
One of the things that I like about Mr Haines is his amazing, deadpan ability to say, well, anything.
His introductions to songs are something in and of themselves. "This is about terrorism" (Baader Meinhof). "This is about terrorism" (Meet Me At The Airport). "This is about terrorism" (There's Gonna Be An Accident). "I've been demonically possessed three times. This is about the second, and most fun, time" (Satan Wants Me).
Later, he casually announced "And now, John Moore will come on stage and play the saw". Er, yes, of course. People playing the saw is quite normal. [*] I get the impression that one day at a gig, he might well say "And now, Evelyn Glenny will come on stage and play this xylophone we made from John Merrick's bones." And nobody would bat an eyelid.
I was initially put off this gig by the appalling amount of sibilance. I don't know whether it was Mr Haines hissing his s-sounds, or the PA somehow emphasising them, or one one worsened by the other. But every s came out as an overly loud sssssssss. Which made his choice of opening song, Who Ssssshot Sssssarah Lucassssss particularly unfortunate. I don't think this got better throughout the gig, but I did at least stop noticing it so much.
One of the best things about hearing Mr Haine's songs live is that they always sound totally different - none of your carbon-copy versions of album tracks. Sometimes this may be of necessity, because the relevant instrumentalists aren't there, or there's half an orchestra missing (last night's line up was a minimalist bass, keyboard/guitar, drums in addition to Haines and his guitar. And the drummer was invisible.)
However, it makes for an entertaining evening listening to reworkings of songs, some of which work better than others. And in many ways, Mr Haines is not a great performer (and apparently hate live gigs); he's a better songwriter than he is a singer. Listening to someone perform their own songs, and the occasional bits of explanatory waffle, is always going to be an interesting exercies if you like the songs.
The sound last night was very much 'heavier' (to my mind) than the albums or than the last time I saw him. Strange, rumbly electronics played quite a large part. Actually, I think Mr Haines' voice was sounding stronger than I remember, too.
Best of all, for such a gig, the words were almost entirely audible. The peculiarly English combintation of bile and whimsy that marks Mr Haines' lyrics is what (to me) makes the Autuers special.
So, I leave you with the chorus to one of his new songs:
Gary Glitter
He's a bad, bad man.
Sullying the reputation
Of the Glitter Band.
[*] Actually, people better informed than I tell me that John Moore (better known as the-other-bloke-out-of-Black-Box-Recorder) playing the saw is actually quite a common occurrence.
It did, however, feature something infinitely surprising. Sitting (for a very long time) on the platform at Kings Cross, waiting for a tube, I could vaguely hear a busker at the other end of the platform. It was crowded, and I couldn't see him, but could hear the rather raucous, but interesting, blues he was singing.
The song ended, on a yell of "that's all there is", and then... a round of applause. Yup, a hardened bunch of Northern line commuters spontaneously applauded a busker. I nearly fell off my feet.
Shortly afterwards, I nearly died of vanity. My connection having finally arrived and deposited me at Angel, I observed a huge queue for the one (working) escalator. Aware that I was running late and people were waiting for me, I elected to run up the empty, stationary escalator.
Now. Unfortunately, once I'd started running, vanity wouldn't let me give in and walk. Taken from a rather out-of-date underground trivia page, we have:
"The longest escalator is at the new Angel station on the City branch of the Northern Line."
'Nuff said.
As it happens, I did have to stop running before the end - but for different reasons. When running up stairs, I look directly at my feet, or I tend to miss steps and fall over most ungracefully. The pattern of lines on an escalator is actually quite difficult to look at, and after three-quarters of the escalator my eyes had lost the ability to focus, and the lines were shifting focal depth like some kind of possessed Magic Eye picture. It was most unpleasant, and making me dizzy.
All this waiting and dashing was occasioned because we were going to see Luke Haines and the Auteurs at the Carling Academy, Islington.
Sadly, the lateness of tubes and the necessity of getting some food meant that we missed the support act, Art Brut. So, with apologies to
addedentry, I can't offer the requested opinion on them.One of the things that I like about Mr Haines is his amazing, deadpan ability to say, well, anything.
His introductions to songs are something in and of themselves. "This is about terrorism" (Baader Meinhof). "This is about terrorism" (Meet Me At The Airport). "This is about terrorism" (There's Gonna Be An Accident). "I've been demonically possessed three times. This is about the second, and most fun, time" (Satan Wants Me).
Later, he casually announced "And now, John Moore will come on stage and play the saw". Er, yes, of course. People playing the saw is quite normal. [*] I get the impression that one day at a gig, he might well say "And now, Evelyn Glenny will come on stage and play this xylophone we made from John Merrick's bones." And nobody would bat an eyelid.
I was initially put off this gig by the appalling amount of sibilance. I don't know whether it was Mr Haines hissing his s-sounds, or the PA somehow emphasising them, or one one worsened by the other. But every s came out as an overly loud sssssssss. Which made his choice of opening song, Who Ssssshot Sssssarah Lucassssss particularly unfortunate. I don't think this got better throughout the gig, but I did at least stop noticing it so much.
One of the best things about hearing Mr Haine's songs live is that they always sound totally different - none of your carbon-copy versions of album tracks. Sometimes this may be of necessity, because the relevant instrumentalists aren't there, or there's half an orchestra missing (last night's line up was a minimalist bass, keyboard/guitar, drums in addition to Haines and his guitar. And the drummer was invisible.)
However, it makes for an entertaining evening listening to reworkings of songs, some of which work better than others. And in many ways, Mr Haines is not a great performer (and apparently hate live gigs); he's a better songwriter than he is a singer. Listening to someone perform their own songs, and the occasional bits of explanatory waffle, is always going to be an interesting exercies if you like the songs.
The sound last night was very much 'heavier' (to my mind) than the albums or than the last time I saw him. Strange, rumbly electronics played quite a large part. Actually, I think Mr Haines' voice was sounding stronger than I remember, too.
Best of all, for such a gig, the words were almost entirely audible. The peculiarly English combintation of bile and whimsy that marks Mr Haines' lyrics is what (to me) makes the Autuers special.
So, I leave you with the chorus to one of his new songs:
Gary Glitter
He's a bad, bad man.
Sullying the reputation
Of the Glitter Band.
[*] Actually, people better informed than I tell me that John Moore (better known as the-other-bloke-out-of-Black-Box-Recorder) playing the saw is actually quite a common occurrence.
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 07:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 08:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 08:31 am (UTC)A dirty stop-out is someone who stops out to a shocking degree, or with particularly nefarious intent.
I can only assume that a filthy stop-out (which appears to be a linguistic invention of Samantha's own) is worse still.
And incidentally, I still insist that I didn't say anything about fisting cats. That was you mishearing me.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 09:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-23 09:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-25 12:00 am (UTC)You can't say you weren't warned (item 5). On the other hand, you're probably fitter than me :-)
no subject
Date: 2004-11-25 12:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-25 02:37 am (UTC)I knew that not religiously reading every entry every one of my friends ever posts was going to get me in to trouble one day :)
no subject
Date: 2004-11-26 07:39 pm (UTC)Poll! Poll!