Late reviews...
Dec. 22nd, 2003 11:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ventaNew Model Army @ Rock City
I sneaked out of work early, and vroomed off up the motorway to Samantha's. Made it in time to cook dinner, eat, and get ourselves through the tortuous one way streets of Nottingham to park by Rock City.
Compared with the Shepherds Bush Empire, where I've seen NMA the last couple of times, Rock City is pleasingly small. As we arrived, a French five-piece of slightly gothy overtones were playing. I never did manage to find out who they were. And I'm sorry to say that I can't remember a whole lot about them.
NMA came on stage to sounds of recorded thunder, and sweeping sets of yellow and green spotted floodlights. Which was kind of odd. And then launched into Here Comes the War, which I still maintain has the worst opening line in the history of songwriting ("Today, as you listen to this song another 394,000 children were born into this world..."). And they get to the chorus, and half the hands in the building go up in Standard NMA Hand Gesture No. 1 (which, for those of you unfamiliar, looks like this).
The last couple of times I've seen NMA, they seem to have been heading off in rather a different direction - still playing some of the old stuff, but moving away from it, more towards the tone of eight. Only suddenly, they've remember that they're a rock band, and seem to have bounced back with a vengeance (no pun intended). For the first time, it felt like the new line up has actually bedded in properly, and is all moving on together. And I think Dave Blomberg is starting to sneak some extra guitar-wank in...
The set was a real mix of old and new - only one song (as far as I can recall) off the most recent album, and some old ones dragged out the woodwork - I don't think I've ever heard them play Drag It Down before. And apparently there's going to be a new album out. Sometime :)
Bizarrely, I managed to find half of Whip The Cat there, or rather they found me. If only we'd been able to locate Dave-from-Stonemonkey, who was apparently there as well, we'd have had enough for a scratch rapper team. Though, of course, why we'd have wanted to is a different question :)
The Damned @ The Zodiac
Having pushed my spare ticket off onto![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
diffrentcolours, I met up with him, some of his mates, mr_flay, edling and Cat in the Red Star Noodle Bar. The RSNB isn't quite as cheap as it might be, but the food is reasonable and arrives relatively swiftly, and its location makes it a great place to meet up in before going to The Zodiac.
We landed just in time to catch the first support band, a fairly standard punk outfit called Teasing Lulu, from (I think) Bristol. Guitar, bass (heart-shaped bass, I ask you), and drums. The guitarist has a really interesting voice - she managed to be shouty whilst surprisingly melodic. The drummer seemed a bit lacking in skill, but made up in enthusiasm - she destroyed at least one snare drum during the relatively short set.
I don't think anything they played was desperately memorable, but it was enjoyable, and they set the tone for the evening of bands appearing to enjoy themselves. Good humoured, and plenty of energy to their songs.
The drummer was also remarkable for having the lowest slung trousers in the world - Bloc Party take note, you simply cannot compete. Mr_Flay and I watched in fascination as she dismantled bits of the drum kit, completely unable to comprehend why her trousers (belted somewhere around mid thigh) didn't fall down.
Following on remarkably swiftly were four blokes called the 4ft Fingers, based in Cheltenham. As soon as they started playing I thought "blimey, it's Less Than Jake without the brass section...", and that did seem to be their sound - with a little bit of Rancid thrown in for good measure.
So, 2 guitars, bass, and drums, with all the people who weren't drumming singing. And they do that three-blokes-singing-very-simple-harmonies thing that I associate more with American bands remarkably well. The drummer, meanwhile, was playing at incredible speed, and grinning like a maniac the whole time.
And the bass player has definitely been listening to Rancid, and was able to pull out surprisingly competent bass solos (soli?) of his own. Which is nice, they should let him do so more.
I really enjoyed this set - and judging by the response they got in terms of singing along/dancing (damn good for an unknown support band), so did everyone else. I even went so far as to trot over to the merchandise stall to buy their CD. Oh, they have two ? And I can have the second half price ? Oh, go on then...
And then we waited. And waited. And some roadies faffed. And we waited. And then someone stuck up a marker-pen poster advising us to stop Cliff Richard getting the Christmas number one (is he a contender?) by buying the Punkaid single. And we waited some more.
And eventually The Damned made it onto the stage, and proceeded to blister through their catalogue for an hour or so. And I'm pleased to report that their keyboard player is still blazingly mad - and, in my mind, the only sensible candidate for the next Doctor Who.
The mix of old and new songs didn't seem to please a few of the fans, who only wanted to hear the old stuff. Not being incredibly familiar with The Damned, really, I was quite happy with what they played - they're still and amazingly energetic, tight-sounding band. And I must acquire myself copies of Wait for the Blackout and History of the World.
The finished their set with Neat Neat Neat, and I was actually slightly disappointed. Last time I saw them, they fitted a couple of verses of The Doors' Break On Through into the middle, and I was very impressed - but peversely disappoined that they'd do exactly the same thing again. It does work well, but somehow I'd have preferred to think it was a one-off rather than now a standard part of their set.
And then it all went a bit weird - an 8ft inflatable Santa "walked" on stage, manipulated by the mad keyboard player. And proceeded to announce that he was Sanity Clause, and was going to sing us a song (boys and girls). Captain Sensible bounced on stage (wearing a Santa hat and beard of his own) and kicked Santa into the wings, and he and the mad keyboard player proceeded to spin through an exceedingly bad rendition of Happy Talk. At some point inflatable Santa bounced back onto the stage, with "I ♥ The Clash" written on his chest in marker pen, and Happy Talk segued into an even worse rendition of Springtime for Hitler.
Fortunately, the rest of the band came back on stage for some less surreal encorage.
I sneaked out of work early, and vroomed off up the motorway to Samantha's. Made it in time to cook dinner, eat, and get ourselves through the tortuous one way streets of Nottingham to park by Rock City.
Compared with the Shepherds Bush Empire, where I've seen NMA the last couple of times, Rock City is pleasingly small. As we arrived, a French five-piece of slightly gothy overtones were playing. I never did manage to find out who they were. And I'm sorry to say that I can't remember a whole lot about them.
NMA came on stage to sounds of recorded thunder, and sweeping sets of yellow and green spotted floodlights. Which was kind of odd. And then launched into Here Comes the War, which I still maintain has the worst opening line in the history of songwriting ("Today, as you listen to this song another 394,000 children were born into this world..."). And they get to the chorus, and half the hands in the building go up in Standard NMA Hand Gesture No. 1 (which, for those of you unfamiliar, looks like this).
The last couple of times I've seen NMA, they seem to have been heading off in rather a different direction - still playing some of the old stuff, but moving away from it, more towards the tone of eight. Only suddenly, they've remember that they're a rock band, and seem to have bounced back with a vengeance (no pun intended). For the first time, it felt like the new line up has actually bedded in properly, and is all moving on together. And I think Dave Blomberg is starting to sneak some extra guitar-wank in...
The set was a real mix of old and new - only one song (as far as I can recall) off the most recent album, and some old ones dragged out the woodwork - I don't think I've ever heard them play Drag It Down before. And apparently there's going to be a new album out. Sometime :)
Bizarrely, I managed to find half of Whip The Cat there, or rather they found me. If only we'd been able to locate Dave-from-Stonemonkey, who was apparently there as well, we'd have had enough for a scratch rapper team. Though, of course, why we'd have wanted to is a different question :)
The Damned @ The Zodiac
Having pushed my spare ticket off onto
diffrentcolours, I met up with him, some of his mates, mr_flay, edling and Cat in the Red Star Noodle Bar. The RSNB isn't quite as cheap as it might be, but the food is reasonable and arrives relatively swiftly, and its location makes it a great place to meet up in before going to The Zodiac.We landed just in time to catch the first support band, a fairly standard punk outfit called Teasing Lulu, from (I think) Bristol. Guitar, bass (heart-shaped bass, I ask you), and drums. The guitarist has a really interesting voice - she managed to be shouty whilst surprisingly melodic. The drummer seemed a bit lacking in skill, but made up in enthusiasm - she destroyed at least one snare drum during the relatively short set.
I don't think anything they played was desperately memorable, but it was enjoyable, and they set the tone for the evening of bands appearing to enjoy themselves. Good humoured, and plenty of energy to their songs.
The drummer was also remarkable for having the lowest slung trousers in the world - Bloc Party take note, you simply cannot compete. Mr_Flay and I watched in fascination as she dismantled bits of the drum kit, completely unable to comprehend why her trousers (belted somewhere around mid thigh) didn't fall down.
Following on remarkably swiftly were four blokes called the 4ft Fingers, based in Cheltenham. As soon as they started playing I thought "blimey, it's Less Than Jake without the brass section...", and that did seem to be their sound - with a little bit of Rancid thrown in for good measure.
So, 2 guitars, bass, and drums, with all the people who weren't drumming singing. And they do that three-blokes-singing-very-simple-harmonies thing that I associate more with American bands remarkably well. The drummer, meanwhile, was playing at incredible speed, and grinning like a maniac the whole time.
And the bass player has definitely been listening to Rancid, and was able to pull out surprisingly competent bass solos (soli?) of his own. Which is nice, they should let him do so more.
I really enjoyed this set - and judging by the response they got in terms of singing along/dancing (damn good for an unknown support band), so did everyone else. I even went so far as to trot over to the merchandise stall to buy their CD. Oh, they have two ? And I can have the second half price ? Oh, go on then...
And then we waited. And waited. And some roadies faffed. And we waited. And then someone stuck up a marker-pen poster advising us to stop Cliff Richard getting the Christmas number one (is he a contender?) by buying the Punkaid single. And we waited some more.
And eventually The Damned made it onto the stage, and proceeded to blister through their catalogue for an hour or so. And I'm pleased to report that their keyboard player is still blazingly mad - and, in my mind, the only sensible candidate for the next Doctor Who.
The mix of old and new songs didn't seem to please a few of the fans, who only wanted to hear the old stuff. Not being incredibly familiar with The Damned, really, I was quite happy with what they played - they're still and amazingly energetic, tight-sounding band. And I must acquire myself copies of Wait for the Blackout and History of the World.
The finished their set with Neat Neat Neat, and I was actually slightly disappointed. Last time I saw them, they fitted a couple of verses of The Doors' Break On Through into the middle, and I was very impressed - but peversely disappoined that they'd do exactly the same thing again. It does work well, but somehow I'd have preferred to think it was a one-off rather than now a standard part of their set.
And then it all went a bit weird - an 8ft inflatable Santa "walked" on stage, manipulated by the mad keyboard player. And proceeded to announce that he was Sanity Clause, and was going to sing us a song (boys and girls). Captain Sensible bounced on stage (wearing a Santa hat and beard of his own) and kicked Santa into the wings, and he and the mad keyboard player proceeded to spin through an exceedingly bad rendition of Happy Talk. At some point inflatable Santa bounced back onto the stage, with "I ♥ The Clash" written on his chest in marker pen, and Happy Talk segued into an even worse rendition of Springtime for Hitler.
Fortunately, the rest of the band came back on stage for some less surreal encorage.
