Sleb BB

It’s that time of the year again where we’d watch anything just to keep our minds off the cold even Celebrity Big Brother. How’s that for an excuse?

We’re only a day or two in and so far I’m not really favouriting anyone, but Terry Christian and Tina ‘shag-hair’ Malone’s voices are getting on my nerves already and Ulrikakaka’s a cow – good on Terry for nominating her first. In fact, uncharacteristically I’m not warming to any of the Brits and find myself quite tolerant towards LaToya and Coolio. The rest of the crowd have been unremarkable so far. Go USA, I s’pose.

It’s a bit dull at the moment to be honest, hopefully there’ll be some action soon.

The five best gigs of 2007

As the first couple of tickets for shows in 2008 are coming in, it’s time to look back and recognise the best of 2007. Where possible, I’ll quote from my earlier reviews.

1. Marc Almond – Paradiso, Amsterdam, October 27

Even before he’s sung a note, he’s welcomed with a thunderous applause
and the crowd’s enthusiasm doesn’t wane over the full two hour show.
They sing along, the hands go up, the tears run rings and hearts swell.
We’re close to a conga-line here, it’s that kind of atmosphere.”
This show in Amsterdam was nothing less than triumphant, so good in fact, that I’ve got to see it twice. That’s why I’ve booked to see him in Dublin in February.

2. The Church – Paradiso, Amsterdam, April 20
“I go see bands full of expectations and come away disappointed a lot of
the time. So when I went to see The Church I expected them well past
their heyday, coasting on past glory. Instead I watched four guys
soldiering on with more fire in the belly than a lot of the new
‘The’-bands put together. Overcoming ridiculous technical problems,
they played blistering versions of songs from their vast repertoire.”
When I’m willing to travel to Hengelo to see a band a second time, you know I’m on to something good. The Church quite simply blew me away and they’ve since climbed to the #1 spot in my Last.fm chart for 2007 with 527 songs scrobbled.

3. Amy Winehouse – Paradiso, Amsterdam, February 8
After The Church, Amy Winehouse was my most played artist this year (342 songs) eventhough I didn’t listen to her much in the second half of the year. Amy played a late night show at the Paradiso. I suppose we were ‘lucky’ for her to show up at all, let alone play a fantastic set. She isn’t much of a performer, but with pipes like that, she doesn’t need to be. I’m glad I got to see her at her best. And I hope someone, family or friends, will look after her and help her deal with whatever it is needs dealing with.

4. R.E.M. – Vicar Street, Dublin, July 3 and 4
‘This is not a show,’ we were told plenty of times. R.E.M. used five nights in front of a real audience in Dublin’s beautiful Olympia theatre, to ‘rehearse’ songs for their upcoming album, which, by the sound of the songs played at these shows, will sound a little more like the R.E.M. we knew before they – briefly – went mega. Well, I enjoyed these ‘rehearsals’ very much. Stipe really doesn’t have to do much to entertain, doesn’t have to work for it, he is just naturally charismatic. I can never figure out whether he’s a nice bloke or not, but I’m told he is. Good for him.

5. Cathal Coughlan – Sugar Club, Dublin, March 25.
There are a couple of artists on my list that don’t tour that much or at all, which means I have to travel to go see them. Cathal Coughlan is one of them. I’ll happily jump on a flight to see him in London or Dublin. It’s an easy choice to make when you know someone’s going to deliver. And deliver he did at the intimate Sugar Club, playing a short solo set before a full run through his grand opus, Flannery’s Mounted Head, also known as Foburg. I really wish he’d play more often.

Also seen:

Jarvis Cocker – not quite as good as hoped for, but he’s adorable.
Brett Anderson – better than expected
Camera Obscura – really not my thing
Moke – derivative and calculated
Interpol – not great
Justin Timberlake – shite seats, crap sound
The Bravery – good energy
INXS – J.D. was better on TV.
The Police – I shouldn’t have gone.
Luka Bloom – I have seen him do better
Arcade Fire – fantastic show falls flat in large venue.
Sinead O’Connor – can do no wrong
The National – impressive show marred by abrupt end.

And then of course there were the eight Nothing Like The Sun shows, in Stratford, Manchester, Newcastle, Leeds, Nottingham and Gent. So totally different from everything else mentioned here I decided to leave them out.

All the photos are copyright © 2007, cvodb.

Marc Almond live, alive

marc-almond.jpg

Dubbed ‘The English Piaf’ by the British press, he does resemble a little sparrow a bit. The motorcycle accident he had three years go has left its marks. Marc Almond’s tough tattoos don’t obscure the fact he seems a little frail now. In his stylish suit he reminds me most of that other French chansonier, Charles Aznavour, whose work Almond has covered. I think he’s aging well.

On stage he admits he’s got trouble remembering his lyrics now and when, during a fabulous performance of Jacques Brel’s Jacky, he’s climbed on top of the grand piano, his tour manager has to help him climb off. Ouch. ‘I’ve done my back in,’ he says and grins and bears it.

Almond’s voice is strong. As always he edges a little close to sharp at times – a catty Dutch journalist used to call him ‘that off key queen out of Soft Cell’ back in the day – but he is always full of unbridled passion. Seasoned performers are the biz. And they need your support as much as newcomers, don’t be mistaking.

The venue’s filled up with ex-goths, you can tell. They don’t wear make up anymore – unlike Almond – but they’re still clad in black threads, two or three sizes up. They probably have well paid jobs, they are ‘creatives’ and they adore their MacBooks. Sorry, I’ve been working with tv demographics data a little too much lately.

It would be fun to drag a couple of emo-kids from their Evanescence concerts and show them what lies in store for them, Scrooge-like. I jest. I’d rather have this devoted but clearly geriatric crowd than cackling, texting, fickle  20-somethings. This lot know of Almond’s misfortune, that much is clear. Even before he’s sung a note, he’s welcomed with a thunderous applause and the crowd’s enthusiasm doesn’t wane over the full two hour show. They sing along, the hands go up, the tears run rings and hearts swell. We’re close to a conga-line here, it’s that kind of atmosphere.

I surrender, let myself go with the flow, but the camera’s lens creates a bit of distance. Just enough to realise there is not a lot of difference between a night out with Almond and evening with Engelbert Humperdinck, that’s entertainment. Marc is so very, very British. In Bizarro World he would probably make a fine Redcoat. In this reality, however, he’s just subversive enough to make it art.

I’d always liked Marc Almond’s work before, but as a live artist he was just a little too camp and over the top to really move me. He moves me now. The drama’s real and we all feel it. Back from death’s door, a miraculous recovery, just turned 50, from Sex Dwarf to Stardom Road… his opening song, Aznavour’s J’ai Vécu, says it all, really: I’ll explain my life and show you all I am and all I’ve been, and I’ll say for my defence that I have lived.

Seen: Paradiso Amsterdam, October 27, 2007
This piece is a loose translation of the review posted to my Dutch 3VOOR12 weblog.

Novel idea: see a band, stay sober

The boys were back in town

Back in town after five great days and three amazing nights in Dublin. Great music, great people and a bloody great tan are my spoils. I’ve never been keen on seeing U2 in Ireland, it’s always been a little disappointing (everybody in audience drunk, band too nervous to perform properly), but for once they brought it home and the crowd wasn’t legless. In fact, they were totally into it, from the back to the front to the highest seats in the stadium. Maybe in this new Ireland, U2 finally have found the audience they deserve.

My photoset of night III.

Still crazy after all these years

Maria Mckee

Performing in Amsterdam for the first time in ten years, Maria McKee seemed surprised (though you never know with her) so many had come out to see her.

Personally, I had expected a bigger crowd. The Paradiso staff had made their main room more intimate, putting tables and large plants down and moving the soundstage up a good way towards the stage.

She played all my favourites. Even the oldies: Breathe, Dixie Storms, Shelter, Wheels… fabulous to hear them all again, as well as tracks off her new album ‘Peddlin’ Dreams’. Unpredictable and slightly mad (she says) as ever. Another one of those ‘criminally’ underestimated artists I like so much.

Setlist: You Are The Light, I Can’t Make It Alone, Am I The Only One, Peddlin’ Dreams, High Dive, Wheels, The Horse Life, Shelter, Turn Away, Sullen Soul, Worry Birds, If Love Is A Red Dress, Dixie Storms, Barstool Blues, People in the Way, In Your Constellation, Everyone’s Got A Story, Breathe, Life Is Sweet.

Some photos

Kids and toys

Unbelievably, my sorry, lethargic mood was lifted by being in the company of friends and their three kids today. (I do believe hell just froze over.) We picked up the 6-year-old from school — there I was, mingling with the mumsy crowd, because she’d specifically requested I come get her. The 3-year-old, who had on a previous occasion told me I wasn’t welcome, now agreed to have me stay for dinner as long as I didn’t sit in her daddy’s chair. The 7-year-old plonked his feet in my lap. He nearly tipped over my scalding hot tea, but sweetly apologised and later ran a quiz during dinner: “Who fights windmills?”, “What’s the planet closest to the sun”, “Who do I like to tease?”. I had fun, despite being kept away from my new toy.

First impression of said new toy: The cradle… um, rocks. Wish the PDA itself was made of the same dark blue see through material. The GUI is intuitive — I haven’t resorted to the manual yet. I haven’t yet worked out the handwriting recognition, but the keyboard thingy works fine. Got a bluetooth / dial-in connection up within 5 minutes.