The Damned were once called the musical version of the worst bits of 'Tiswas'. And yes, there's some truth to be found there, although I'd gladly argue against the "worst". Anarchic, unpredictable and borderline bewildering, they've played a massive part in the UK music scene, but they're more infamous than recognised as that band with the silly names and Dracula singing, who went all prog. But there's more to them than that.
I've seen The Damned before, supporting Motörhead as their pet punk band. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but whatever it was was totally blown away by the first moment of "hi, we're The Damned, and we sound something like this" followed by a load of gloriously fun noise. So when I heard they were playing a headline show in London, I jumped at the chance to go.
And that is the obligatory prequel to my ramble. It was my first time at Shepherd's Bush Empire, and despite a rather unpleasant toilet, I'll happily place it as a venue I like. The atmosphere is surprisingly unique for an O2 venue (the musical equivalent of a chainstore) being a repurposed theatre complete with all the decor you'd expect, a good stage, and impressively clear sound.
(Roundhouse take note: if I ever return, please fix the air conditioning, and for the love of all that is holy, sort out your sound. It is currently an indistinct splurge. You are being shamed by smaller, less iconic venues.)
Anyway. I was one of the bratty young rocker contingent. The audience was split into the younger lot and the old guard, and it was a distinct yet friendly contrast. The Damned seem to attract the more good-humoured side of punk.
The opening act was Texas Terri Bomb. How do you even begin? I suppose "if Iggy Pop was a woman" would be a reasonable starting point. They're a howling collective of that same garage-punk sound where the music sounds malignant and possibly unhygienic. Like you should go have a tetanus injection after listening, and it's all fronted by the calculatedly unhinged Texas Terri, who has a presence and then some, on and off the stage, in lurid red hair and lipstick and a voice that is almost the epitome of rocker. Some of their onstage antics seemed contrived, but with a band that fun, it is hard to criticise.
Next up was Ed Tudor Pole, who is not so much calculatedly unhinged as genuinely insane, playing a set on an instrument that seemed to be more sellotape than guitar, eyeing the audience in a way that left me unsure as to whether he thought we were a crowd of zombies and if so whether he would suddenly react in a suitable fashion, and singing about meeting his wife at a sweet shop, his nephew getting a fake moustache in a Christmas cracker, and of course the crowd-pleaser 'Who Killed Bambi?', which became a singalong with several inebriated members of the audience. In the spirit of punk, he also gave his colourful opinion on the government before confirming the location of the bar.
The Damned were perhaps more theatrical this time, I suppose being the headliners allows for more flourish. They entered the stage to the sound of 'Nature's Dark Passion', an atmospheric track from their recent album, and this was followed by 'Disco Man', and 'I Just Can't Be Happy Today'.
Unlike many bands who've experimented beyond their roots, The Damned aren't afraid of their back-catalogue, playing songs from all over their 30-year career, which is no mean feat considering their evolution. How many bands could still pull off sharp and searing renditions of 'Neat Neat Neat' and 'New Rose' alongside the gothic 'Shadow Of Love' and their druggy, chart-bothering cover of 'Eloise', and still find time to work in 'Thrill Kill' and 'Song.com'? (Please send answers along with a note of money, £20 preferred but £50 welcome, to etc.)
The Damned, as well as being in possession of a collection of songs and a fanbase many bands would give limbs and otherwise to have, also have a smart way of being able to blend their material, and the setlist flowed, Sensible's stage banter filling the gaps with the familiarity of a mate down the pub. The pacing may have been a little uneven, but for every moment of instrumental showing off and poking at the softer side, there was a rattling freight train of a punk milestone to get us all pogoing and shouting like it's 1976 again. Seeing as I missed it the first time, this is a welcome opportunity.
It might disappoint some to find that Vanian no longer dresses as Dracula, but instead has matured into a suitably ageless frontman, and his voice is still as impressive as ever, ranging from a deep croon to sudden barks, especially the immortal 'Neat Neat Neat', where it is greeted by a good couple of thousand raised fists and raucous voices. As for the rest of the band, Pinch provides a sturdy and talented backbone behind his lightshow of a drumkit, Stu West is able to handle any and all basslines, be they chugging or finger-bending, that come his way with ease, and Monty Oxymoron still causes no end of confusion, intermittently pogoing behind the keyboards while looking like a cross between the prog rock generation and the Victorian era while adding his own contributions to the early punk material as well as driving the more recent melodic tracks.
And Captain Sensible? Oh Captain Sensible, where do we even begin? In possession of a long-suffering roadie who seems to function as a nanny (last time, Sensible refused to leave the stage and was carried off while determinedly singing 'Happy Times', this time the roadie was fussing over a guitar strap and was shooed off with a towel) and a contingent of fans who chanted, conga-style no less, "Sensible's a wanker!" at every opportunity. This is a man who steadfastly refuses to look on the upper side of 23, and the band is all the better for it. He provides the anarchic side of the proceedings in his trademark red beret and sunglasses, goading the crowd and joking with them in the best of bad taste. That said, he is a truly underestimated guitarist able to rattle off some impressive solos and riffs without batting an eyelid.
They held off playing 'Smash It Up' until last, and some might feel like they were on the windup, but what else could you expect, and the waiting only makes it sweeter.
The set was over much too soon. No two ways about it. Jumping around drenched in sweat and covered in eyeliner, I realised that this was the most fun I'd had at a gig in a while. And this is an important thing to remember. For every deep and meaningful sharing of wounds with music, you do need a band who aren't afraid to crack jokes involving Michael Jackson and heavenly llamas. All this with knobs on and a light-up drumkit and we could jump and sing along to 'Love Song' all night long.
01/06/2010
Gig: Sunny Day Real Estate 31/5/10 HMV Forum
And so after an explosive act of God (in their words) postponed their first-ever UK gig for a month, Sunny Day Real Estate finally get to play in London. I would have said something along the lines of "introduce their music to London", only the audience were more than familiar with it. And was it worth the wait? Hell yes.
So after a small adventure in the Underground, the almost revelatory discovery that Sainsburys has self-service coffee machines, and sitting outside the venue for a couple of hours, it was that most-loved of nondescript evening hours. 7pm.
The HMV Forum (or Kentish Town Forum, for those of you able to remember a time when venues weren't all owned by a brand) is one of those venues I have a love/hate relationship with. It's far from bad but the sound is uneven, being ear-nukingly loud up front and almost inaudible further back.
In the absence of Saves The Day, a "surprise support act" had been threatened, and so most of the audience were none the wiser as to who was to be opening for such a massively influential band. We watched a semi-acoustic setup being assembled with an air of mystery.
The support came on, and it was none other than Biffy Clyro! It was only a short set (seven songs or so) but it was sweet. They weren't their normal rock-god selves, but they have a gift in that their songs can translate very well to soulful acoustic numbers. I got the distinct impression that they were quite humbled at being asked to open for Sunny Day Real Estate (perhaps even a little afraid of trying to upstage them) and hearing the two bands together in one gig it suddenly made sense: Biffy Clyro are Sunny Day Real Estate fanboys. Albeit with a rockier edge and a different take on things, but the bones of their music come from Sunny Day Real Estate. Their performance was muted slightly in the lack of electrics and a drumkit, but it allowed for the subtleties and emotional power of the songs they had chosen to shine through. So that was a lovely set and a great surprise.
Sunny Day Real Estate were next, and this signalled a return to the land of electric instruments with a bright red bass, Gibson SGs, and a spangled drumkit. (I am too shortsighted to see what Dan Hoerner was playing.)
The band came on stage at nine, and launched into their set after greeting their fans, and believe me, they were fans. Sunny Day Real Estate may have passed under the radars of many, but the people who love their music really and truly adore it. And after watching them tonight, it is easy to see why. The original lineup haven't been together for a decade, but watching them last night it felt as if they had never taken a break. The whole set seemed natural and each member knew what to do and how to work with one another, and looked genuinely happy to share a stage again.
They are often namedropped as the creators of emo, but that may be a little unfair. "Emo" suggests angst by the shedload and a sense of gravitas that weighs as much as a shed, but Sunny Day Real Estate don't have that. Yes, their songs are emotional, but that's just what they are: emotional. There are sad songs, but their music style is an uplifting thing, a kind of grungey pop sound with some interesting tweaks in melody and rhythm that adds not one but several new dimensions to their songs. It's a beautiful, beautiful moment for everyone involved. Their lyrics are cryptically mournful, describing love gone wrong and emotional pain, but the sound upon which they are carried delivers a message of hope. Yes, you may feel bad, but it will get better.
The funny thing is, that although they are known as a rock band and they do indeed rock out with the best of them, it's all done at their own pace. There's no urgency. You couldn't rush a band like this, and you wouldn't want to. The songs need time to sink in. This meant that the set felt slow, but it didn't drag. Stage banter was kept to a minimum, but they don't seem the kind of band who need to make small talk.
They left the stage profusely thanking their fans and came back for a small but welcome encore.
After their encore, the stage lights remained up, but for all the cheering and clapping, the band didn't reappear for a second encore. It was never established whether they decided not to reappear or if the venue had made a mistake, but either way, it felt like the show we were given was worth waiting for.
So after a small adventure in the Underground, the almost revelatory discovery that Sainsburys has self-service coffee machines, and sitting outside the venue for a couple of hours, it was that most-loved of nondescript evening hours. 7pm.
The HMV Forum (or Kentish Town Forum, for those of you able to remember a time when venues weren't all owned by a brand) is one of those venues I have a love/hate relationship with. It's far from bad but the sound is uneven, being ear-nukingly loud up front and almost inaudible further back.
In the absence of Saves The Day, a "surprise support act" had been threatened, and so most of the audience were none the wiser as to who was to be opening for such a massively influential band. We watched a semi-acoustic setup being assembled with an air of mystery.
The support came on, and it was none other than Biffy Clyro! It was only a short set (seven songs or so) but it was sweet. They weren't their normal rock-god selves, but they have a gift in that their songs can translate very well to soulful acoustic numbers. I got the distinct impression that they were quite humbled at being asked to open for Sunny Day Real Estate (perhaps even a little afraid of trying to upstage them) and hearing the two bands together in one gig it suddenly made sense: Biffy Clyro are Sunny Day Real Estate fanboys. Albeit with a rockier edge and a different take on things, but the bones of their music come from Sunny Day Real Estate. Their performance was muted slightly in the lack of electrics and a drumkit, but it allowed for the subtleties and emotional power of the songs they had chosen to shine through. So that was a lovely set and a great surprise.
Sunny Day Real Estate were next, and this signalled a return to the land of electric instruments with a bright red bass, Gibson SGs, and a spangled drumkit. (I am too shortsighted to see what Dan Hoerner was playing.)
The band came on stage at nine, and launched into their set after greeting their fans, and believe me, they were fans. Sunny Day Real Estate may have passed under the radars of many, but the people who love their music really and truly adore it. And after watching them tonight, it is easy to see why. The original lineup haven't been together for a decade, but watching them last night it felt as if they had never taken a break. The whole set seemed natural and each member knew what to do and how to work with one another, and looked genuinely happy to share a stage again.
They are often namedropped as the creators of emo, but that may be a little unfair. "Emo" suggests angst by the shedload and a sense of gravitas that weighs as much as a shed, but Sunny Day Real Estate don't have that. Yes, their songs are emotional, but that's just what they are: emotional. There are sad songs, but their music style is an uplifting thing, a kind of grungey pop sound with some interesting tweaks in melody and rhythm that adds not one but several new dimensions to their songs. It's a beautiful, beautiful moment for everyone involved. Their lyrics are cryptically mournful, describing love gone wrong and emotional pain, but the sound upon which they are carried delivers a message of hope. Yes, you may feel bad, but it will get better.
The funny thing is, that although they are known as a rock band and they do indeed rock out with the best of them, it's all done at their own pace. There's no urgency. You couldn't rush a band like this, and you wouldn't want to. The songs need time to sink in. This meant that the set felt slow, but it didn't drag. Stage banter was kept to a minimum, but they don't seem the kind of band who need to make small talk.
They left the stage profusely thanking their fans and came back for a small but welcome encore.
After their encore, the stage lights remained up, but for all the cheering and clapping, the band didn't reappear for a second encore. It was never established whether they decided not to reappear or if the venue had made a mistake, but either way, it felt like the show we were given was worth waiting for.
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