They kept tellin’ the audience they were the ‘greatest rock and roll band in the world’. But everyone knows that’s Stereophonics.
All Tomorrow’s Parties – An Event Security Man writes.
All right? Lee here, from Event Security. When they’s offered me this job at Butlin’s, I’s thought ‘lovely job’. Quick run down from Newport to Minehead, weekend gig, ok money, I’ll be back on Sunday night in time for Lost. Plus, right, last time I was down Minehead, Pussycat Dolls was playing. Bein’ in the photographer’s pit, right, you learns how to keep one eye on the crowd while casually turning your head now and then for a glimpse of on-stage muff, if you sees what I’m getting at there. Oh, give me a break! What with all that gyratin’ and skirts hardly worth the name, it’s hard not to catch an eyeful.
So I signs up for this ATP gig and gets there on the Friday night. Well. What a bloody sight these kids are! Now don’t get me wrong, I likes a bit of indie. Coldplay, Killers…good stuff. But by the look of this bunch of weirdos we’re going to have some pretty rum acts on this weekend, I can tell.
First up it’s Giant Sand. Easy gig this, early Friday evening and most of the freaks are still unloading their bloody bongs and acoustic guitars from the deathtraps they’s just about managed to roll into the car park. Not a bad sound this, the frontman’s got a Bob Dylan way about him, but he sets it off with these weird guitar effects. It’s like if someone in the 60s imagined how guitars would sound in 2000, right? That’s just how he comes over. But all with a nice enough country tinge.
Then they sends me upstairs to work The Bronx. That’s the name of the band, not a nickname for a partic’ly lawless area o’Butlin’s or nothin’! Anyways it’s straight in with the earplugs for this lot – we’s had a talk from Health and Safety about that and apparently if I goes deaf at thirty from patrolling these gigs and I can’t prove I’ve been wearing earplugs, not a penny of compo do I get. Anyway, off the point. This Bronx bunch, it’s all heavy rock, little fella up front with tattoos, not my cup of tea.
Back down for Throwing Muses. Big in the 80s this lot, was it? Pleasant enough, at least there’s proper songs, you know? Kristen Hersh the singer’s called. Blonde, quite the rack on it, I tells you. Looks like an indie Renee Zellweger if yous can imagine such a thing. A few devotees in the crowd but the casuals aren’t getting’ much from it. Makes me think, if you liked a band as a kid, you don’t really judge ‘em when they reform the same way new folks do. I says this to my colleague, Simpo, and he says, yeah, you’re enjoyin’ the idea o’ them, the memory, more than the music itself. He sums it up well, Simpo. Way with words.
Back upstairs for Yann Tiersen. Now listening to the kids, this was one of their favourite acts of the weekend. I don’t mind it, but don’t quite get the appeal. French lot, they are, and you get that Frenchy vibe, you know like that Sexy Boy lot, but with a bit more of the epic rock thing going on. You know, like Muse – oh, my nephew loves those buggers to death – or what’s that other lot with all the bells and whistles…Arcade Fires, is it? Yeah, imagine chuckin’ that lot in a pot and Yann Tiersen’s what you get.
Bon Iver’s downstairs on the Friday too. Good band, this feller’s got. They say he’s got this ethereal ,fragile thing going on, and he does a bit o’ that – Simpo reckons there’s somethin’ of Skip Spence about him, I says ‘who’s that?’ and he says I should check out ‘Oar’, I says ‘or what?’, Simpo says ‘No, Oar.’, I says ‘Or what?’ and we go on like that for about five minutes – but I like it better when he’s got the band rockin’ out. Two drummers he’s got bashin’ away for one bit!
Finally on Friday a word for Buffalo Killers. Trio, this lot, but from the size of them they ordered the catering for a sexet, if you knows what I’m getting at. Got a blues-rock thing going on and it’s pretty damn good. The singer’s quite high-pitched, I wouldn’t say girly, that’s unfair, but, well, a bit girly. The overall effect’s a bit like the Cream sound, you know?
Saturday I takes me break early and does a bit of people-watchin’ in Burger King. Lot of quite ugly fat girls with dyed hair in, that’s definitely a theme. Boys with the beards, but not that trucker chic they were all into a few years back. More of a beard/floppy hair combo going on now. Simpo says they look like failed auditionees for Vanilla Fudge, but I don’t know what that means. So today downstairs we’ve got CSS. Now at least this bunch have made an effort. Balloons all over the shop and the singer in a multi-coloured catsuit. I wants to remind them we got a zero-tolerance policy on drugs but Simpo’s working the backstage again so I don’t get to meet them. Who works out these flippin’ rotas, eh?! Anyways, quite the party sound to this lot. I can see how they’d do well at your summer festivals. Thing is, it’s May and indoors here so it’s never quite going to work the same way. Still, points for tryng, eh?
Upstairs again and Wire are on. Bloody hellfire. All in black, thrashing away. Coming straight from CSS to this is getting off a stripy deckchair at the beach and throwing yourself in a freezing plunge pool in a dark room. Back downstairs for Teenage Fanclub. Now this is more like it. Lovely melodic pop and no attitude, these chaps. They look like your uncles. Not mine, mind. Well, not my Uncle Rhys any road, not since the accident.
The Breeders are last on downstairs. Two sisters fronting this lot, apparently, and they don’t look like they’ve held back on the Krispy Kremes either. They do one about a Cannonball that I recognise. Not sure about the rest of it, I think that woman’s been listening to The Pixies a bit too much. I says this to Simpo to try and prove my indie cred and that, and he just laughs. Thing about this lot is, they play pretty tight but they got this shambolic schtick, you might say, makin’ it look like they don’t know what they’s doin’. Get’s a bit much after a while.
By now, upstairs smells like the inside of a bowlin’ shoe. Not ‘elped by the fact these kids is churning out beer farts like there’s a methane shortage. I don’t know what Mariachi El Bronx makes of it. Turns out this is the same lot that was on last night, The Bronx that is, but now all dressed up like a mariachi band, which is what they are. I reckon this might be all right, a bit of hard rock with a mariachi vibe and that, but I’ll be honest, it’s piss-weak. Quite well-written songs and it turns out that Tattoo’s got a decent voice when he’s not screamin’, but the songs are too far the other way, isn’it? Too pop. Like Maroon 5 or somethin’.
Over in The Red Bar, The Frogs are on. I don’t know where to start with these. The main feller’s got wings and a headdress on, while his brother’s wearing a shaggy wig – at least, I thinks it’s not his own hair – and drummin’ standing up. Simpo’s shoutin’ something like ‘Marychain era Bobby Gillespie tribute act!’ but I can’t quite make it out. Lots of comedy banter between these, lots of stop-starting. They covers Champagne Supernova but everyone’s laughin’, I don’t know why. And Creep by Radiohead. I don’t get this irony bollocks. I mean, somehow just by doing a cover in a slightly silly voice, you’re meant to be taking the piss, right? Bit lazy if you ask me. Still, his feller in the get-up can really play the guitar. A few little bursts where he really rocks out. I’d like him to do more o’that but it’s like these guys don’t know how seriously to take themselves and so they end up a bit tangled up in their own piss-takin’, you know?
I’m on lates tonight so I’ve got to hang around for – and you’ll have to excuse me here – Holy Fuck. I knows! They might think that’s a clever name, but let’s see who’s clever when they want their record playin’ on CBC or Swansea Sound. Anyways. It’s two nerds hovering over tables full o’ keyboards and electrical whatnots, twiddlin nobs and flippin’ switches, but they’s got a drummer and bass player too so it’s not totally techno-techno-techno. Not bad stuff, actually. I likes a bit of dance music, not that I’ve bought none since that Chemical Brothers Best Of. Simpo reckons there’s something ‘a bit krauty’ about this bunch but I can’t hear no oompah goin’ on. Not sure Simpo always knows what he’s on about.
Sunday, and I’s looking forward to getting home, to be honest. The first lot I have to work today is Melt Banana. What. A. Racket. Japanese bunch, this. Woman screeching away like a raptor with its claw caught in a car door, while the rest of the band plays this mad thrashy punk. Mental. The guiarist’s wearing a mask, like for that swine flu, but the way this lot is carryin’ on I reckon they’ve already got mad cow disease!
Kimya Dawson‘s on next upstairs. Singer-songwriter she is. They used her stuff in that film ‘Juno’, apparently. More of a ‘Fast & Furious’ man myself but, you know, diff’rent strokes, isn’it? All a bit nicey-nicey cutesy-cutesy this. She’s got three audience members on stage with her, ok, and they’re all giggly and excited and can’t believe they’re up on stage and that. Then at one point the girl – with the old thick-rimmed specs, o’ course – says to Kimya ‘Are youse going to be here in June’? And she says ‘Why?’ and the girl says ‘So you can come and see our band play.” “And Kimya Dawson’s like, ‘What’s your band?’ and no word of a lie, right, she says ‘They’re called The Ethical Debating Society. There’ll be free cake!”. Now excuse my language but it was the twee-est fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard in my life! I reckon I was a tiny bit sick in my mouth in fact.
Gang of Four was much more my cup of tea – no sugar! They rocked out. There’s one bit where the singer keeps time by whackin’ a microwave with a baseball bat! I’d’ve enjoyed that more if I wasn’t worryin’ about getting shrapnel in the back of my head. Like I said to Simpo, I’s all for a bit of performance but you can’t go endangerin’ people. Anyways, they’re another old group this lot and it got me thinkin’ about Throwing Muses on the first night. What Simpo said about enjoying the idea rather than the band. Different kettle of fish with Gang of Four, I must say. It was all about the now with this lot. Lots of kids in who I reckon didn’t know the songs but there was no irony or nostalgia or that goin’ on. Sweatiest buggers of the weekend, I reckon.
Foals were next on the main stage. Now all I knew about this lot is that David in Corrie once got tickets for him and Tina to go and see them. I wasn’t sure at first, all a bit posh wailing over dance beats. Was a bit like listening to a Cure remix album. But they warmed up and by the end they were in a good old groove. Deffo worth a look in a venue that doesn’t resemble an airport check-in area, I’d say.
Last lot before I clocked off was Supersuckers. They kept tellin’ the audience they were the ‘greatest rock and roll band in the world’. But everyone knows that’s Stereophonics. Anyway, they wasn’t a bad way to round things off – imagine Motorhead but a bit more country.
That was it for me, picked up my pay and hit the road. Still had my earplugs in when I got back to Newport!
Lee the Event Security Man was talking to Daniel Maier, who took some photos too.