Went to Bristol last weekend, to spend a weekend with Caro’n’Dom’n’Malachy. Got the train there on Friday evening, and discovered that Dom had project-planned out the boozin’. Friday night was for Caro & me to get drunk (go on, anybody – criticise my grammar there…), while Saturday night was earmarked for Dom & me. We went for a wander into town – planning on having dinner together, before Dom would take Malachy home, leaving Caro & me to get our drink on. The plan mostly worked – except that we didn’t get any dinner. Dom & Malachy left for home, while Caro & I did indeed get our drink on – on empty stomachs. And a few hours later, we had that all too familiar sight of two intoxicated people staggering along the street – guy essentially holding girl up. When will people learn? The guy needs to really gulp down the drinks right at the start, get obviously drunk early – and then the ladies will have to refrain from the booze in order to ensure everybody gets home safe.
But anyways – Caro & I did indeed fulfil our part of the deal. Went to a dodgy bar to escape the rain, and then what was apparently THE bar to go to in Bristol. I think I offended Caro, because I thought that it was really quite cool that there was a group outing of intellectually handicapped people. And I mean that – I’m not being nasty or anything – I honestly thought that there were about a dozen people who looked/acted/sounded as if they were handicapped – and I thought it was an awesome idea for a night-out for them. Apparently – nope, they were just random Bristol locals. Which shouldn’t be an offensive mistake – but yeah, I guess some people won’t see it that way. We had a shot of some description at some point, and the proposed theory is that it was the shot’s fault that I had to carry Caro home. Of course once we got home, we needed Dom’s help to open the door, and help Caro to the bathroom. And therefore – none of us got much sleep at all.
Meaning the plan for a bit of the ol’ binge-drink with Dom on Saturday night was compromised. But – we made do, had some lunch on a boat, met up with Dom’s cousing andand headed out to Portishead – the place, so I could have a point of reference when seeing Portishead the band next weekend. Nice enough place – and got to see Wales. Just a big hunk of land across the water – but still, I saw it. And then back to Bristol proper for some dinner, and then the boys attempted to get some drinking done. I think we managed to get 3 or 4 beers down before Dom was visibly nodding off, and I was fighting to look like I wasn’t.
Sunday essentially consisted of walking through dreary drizzly Brizzy, shopping for a roast dinner, then cooking roast dinner, eating roast dinner, and keeping children busy/happy – with vastly varying levels of participation by myself in each of those activities.
And Monday morning – I missed the first cheap train to London, so had to wait for another half-an-hour – and eventually strolled into work a few minutes before lunchtime – ready for another productive working week.
Gigs this week consisted of the lady-singer in Bristol – and Liam Finn on Wenerei night. Liam was an odd one. I was probably fairly tired – so even worse than usual in my habit of “get bored after the first few songs, then start getting all overly-analytic/judgemental regarding band personality”. But Liam did also make it rather easy for me…
First up, he came out by himself – and did a highly energetic set of creating his own samples on the fly, layering it up, culminating in him bashing the hell out of his drums. Same kind of approach as Don McGlashan last year – but this was a one-off “look-at-me” intro to the set. Once he’d finished a very short but showy demonstration of his abilities, a supporting band came out. So yeah – he’s talented, but needs to get some more schooling done.
And then his “on-stage banter”. You just very quickly got the impression that he might be a bit of a dick. Again – I might be way off the mark here – I was tired, and I do tend to get ultra-judgey of performers midway through any gig. Just an overall feeling of the “not-cool kid at school who thinks he is, because he’s popular in his own group of fellow not-cool kids”. But I can live with that – because it might easily be wrong. But then the elephant in the room was pointed out. Somebody made a crack – about Neil Finn. I think he accused one of Liam’s songs as having been written by his dad? And of course Liam took that bait like a <tried to think of a good simile, but nah>. Made a big show of pointing out he was not his father’s son – maybe trying to distance himself? Quote: “You think fuckin’ Neil Finn grow a beard like THIS?”. The unspoken answer… “Well, yeah, of course.” Which brings me to his merchandise. His t-shirts were all based on references to his beard, and/or his dad. The beard – it ain’t that good a beard. It’s a twenty-something’s attempt at growing a big shaggy indie beard – but falling rather short. I mean – it’s not the equivalent of a teenager’s attempt at a moustache – but it ain’t no Hombre Lobo or Joaquin Phoenix beard neither. And a t-shirt of a cartoon Darth Vader taking off his helmet – and stating “Liam… you are my son” – really? Are you really trying to make it on your own without any help from daddy & family?
All in all – I don’t regret going to the gig. It was good. Plenty of energy, a bit of crowd-interaction (even if most of that was just terrible… getting the crowd to go “yip yip yip” instead of clapping after a song… no Liam, no), and clearly trying rather hard. But everything just seemed forced. The opening self-sampling-layering gig – a new trick, done better by Don McGlashan. His song-writing – yeah, he might be right with his self-claimed “I’m maturing” – but he is no Neil Finn… not even a Tim Finn. Stage presence – enjoyable, if forced. Venue – very small, and lots of kiwis in the crowd, so lots of tall people – but I sat on a equipment-box at the back, and had a better view than most until a girl on crutches asked to steal my spot. I tried to kick her crutches out from under her, but had to get down to do it, and by then she was up on the box.
And that’s the review of a grumpy tired old man jealous of these yooves with their loud crash-bang music. (I can’t find any youtube coverage of the gig – but here is a clip of a previous gig, which probably encompasses the general style.)