First, a digression! Some years ago, I was stunned to see in a local pizzeria a poster for a gig by Mark Eitzel (of American Music Club, who I love) playing in a pub right across the road from where I was living at the time. I remember thinking that it was the exact opposite of the old line about 'well, I wouldn't cross the road to see them....'. I had gone to Dublin to see AMC before, and it seemed he was returning the courtesy by paying me what was almost a personal visit.
This month, I was similarly gratefully surprised and impressed when a pub near where I live now, Treacy's of Ballincollig (Co. Cork), which has established a new folk club, announced it was to host Mick Flannery on 11 August and, while the tickets for that sold out quickly, we got tickets for the extra gig added, due to the demand, on the 10th.
The room used for gigs holds only 100 people, so this was certainly an intimate experience, with no-one more than 50 feet from the band in a sort of L-shaped arrangement. The 'support' was as good as I could hope - the National's 'Alligator' and 'Boxer' being played before Mick and his band came on stage and during the break he gave mid-show!
And, as for the show itself, well I think I have finally surrendered any lingering doubts I may have had about him; he is without doubt an incredible performer, song-writer and musician, and surely one of Ireland's greatest musical treasures, who deserves to be known and loved far beyond these shores.
Live, he has an almost OTT nervousness and self-deprecation (tonight's gig featured several references to the misery he was inflicting on us, including finishing by saying 'now ye can go back to being happy people', and he also admitted that he hadn't much of a stage presence), but when he plays he gets lost in the music, and that voice and playing take over and it is magical.
He started with a lovely 'Safety rope' from 'White lies' before spending most of the first half of his set playing songs from his debut 'Evening train'. For the first time that I have seen, he explained the 'concept' behind the album, about two brothers and the girl who came between them, and the whole thing made so much more sense as a cohesive tale, adding immensely to the power of the songs; there are very few artists doing this sort of thing today, and the idea that he did this for his debut while still in his early 20s may explain why he won an American song-writing prize very early in his career.
Back to the gig, he did a gorgeous guitar-led version of 'California', the lyrics of which I love for their spot-on conjuring of a man lost in a relationship which has gone far beyond his depth ('Lady, come into my room/I pretend I'm sleeping/Half an eye on you./Slow, you take off your clothes,/You knew I was watching,/Said 'How'd ya like the show',/Then I told ya I loved ya and you said/'Yeah I know'/And I thought I could die/Before I'd ever let go'.). And then, shortly after the break, after a mumbled apology for probably f**king it up, he played the most perfect version of Tom Waits' 'Martha', a song I love so much we named our daughter after it, and I finally surrendered to the greatness of the man (Mick that is, Tom's was never much in doubt).
In terms of clips, the room was very dark and my (usually) trusty N95 struggled with both the light and an unexpectedly low battery, which gave up before the break (so no footage of 'Martha', terribly sad to say). However, I did get 'The gutter' below (and, yes, even in poor light, it is on its side, being filmed in portrait, and not being able to work out how to rotate the clip - enjoy the sound anyway!):
He played three new songs on the night, all beautiful, including one called (I think) 'Cut me close' and the one below:
As a final sign of my conversion to true believer, I want to point out that Mick's albums can be downloaded on iTunes, Amazon.com (here and here) or Amazon.co.uk (here). He is on the Allmusic Guide here, his Wikipedia entry is here, his Myspace page is here, and his homepage is here. I can do no more for ye - go and find him now!
Just got back from a Mick Flannery concert in my local pub, Treacy's in Ballincollig, Co. Cork and it was absolutely brilliant (much more enthusiastic detail to follow). The full review with clips will follow in a few days (probably the weekend) when I get a chance to upload the clips and write the review.
Just to whet the appetite, I found this clip of a concert of his in Cork's Opera House in 2006, playing 'When I've got a dollar':
And, to further whet the pre-whetted, a clip of him and Lisa Hannigan playing 'Christmas past', which he didn't do tonight:
On Wedneday night, 2nd September, I went to see Mick Flannery for the second time in a month, in another tiny venue called the Blackbird, a pub in Ballycotton, around 30 miles from Cork, which has a small back room used for intimate (estimated max capacity of 50!) gigs. It was too small for the full band to fit in, and the drummer had to stay home; also, unexpectedly, did Yvonne, his back-up singer and usual duet partner. Violinist Karen had to step in and fill her shoes, and did very well under the circumstances!
A few weeks back, I wrote a long piece and review on Mick (see here), so I will keep this one short. Basically, the latest gig was very different, partly due to the line-up and also partly due to the set-list, which featured an idiosynchractic choice of cover versions, as well as the usual stuff from his two albums (some notable omissions included 'Safety rope'). Nonetheless, it was a great gig, and he was in sligthly more relaxed form (a relative term for Mick); I am becoming convinced he is developing a very definite stage personality which is based around not having a stage personality, and his nervousness and self-deprecation is an essential part of the charm package.
The first cover was Tom Waits' 'Martha' (as also played in the previous gig) and which he was somewhat 'pressurised' to do by my wife, after explaining the fact that our daughter was named after the song. Fair play to him for playing it out of either loyalty to his fans or fear, and it can be seen below (remembered to turn the phone around after the first few seconds):
The next cover caught me off guard as I was going 'I know it, I know it....' before my mental filing of everything Uncut taught me brought the Felice Brothers to my lips, and even the song name ('Frankie's gun'); I downloaded the album ages ago and this was the only track which really stood out for me. Eventually, after the penny dropped, I got a quick clip as seen below:
The next clip I am including is from 'Cut it clean', which is fast becoming a favourite of his new stuff, after this, probably my third hearing:
And finally, I will include another surprising (and yet fairly logical) cover, of Springsteen's 'The river', and the clip includes some audience banter and eventual mass participation (all 50 of us!) in a really lovely and powerful version:
As has happened before, my N95 lost the will to film at this point, and the battery faded badly, and so I missed what was still a good lively final cover of 'The night they drove old Dixie down', before a short encore (they couldn't go anywhere - the crowd was blocking the door), and the final song was, appropriately, 'Goodbye'.
Another great gig and I remain a true believer with the fervour of the convert; he has announed more gigs in Cork and the U.K. (see here) and wherever the hell you are, you should get to one of them.
I downloaded 'Becoming a jackal' by Villagers and have been listening to it quite a bit this week. I have heard quite a lot of talk about this band (or rather, this guy, Conor J. O'Brien - see Wikipedia article here) but hadn't heard a specific song I actually identified with them until this week, whern I heard and loved 'That day' on the radio on the way to work. It was really one of those moments where you almost hold your breath after the song ends, begging the DJ to tell you who it was rather than cutting to an ad break or something equivalently cruel, which at least this time he did not (thanks Ian Dempsey of Today FM!). The album is very good, and having read some on-line reviews the label of 'the Irish Bright Eyes' seems very fitting, in a very positive way (but not as whingey as the other Conor, i.e., Oberst, can get). It also reminds me of the melodic theatricality of Duke Special on occasion, and for a one-man act the instrumentation is very good, in particular the drumming/percussion on several tracks. My pick of the tracks so far include 'Home', 'Ship of promises' and 'Twenty-seven strangers', while 'The pact' is peculiarly 60s-feeling, and the pick is the aforementioned 'That day', the video for which can be seen below:
I also got sent a really nice clip of Josh Ritter and his band getting surprised at an American gig during 'Lantern' by a spot of on-target audience participation, and the looks on the band's faces just says all you need to know about how damn nice and sincere these guys, and their fans, are:
Last week, and previously, I have lamented by inability to get to see The National, despite my quite scary obsession with them and ongoing campaign to bribg their wonderfulness to anyone who will listen. I have of course looked for clips of them playing at Electric Picnic, but the quality is generally not great (and occasionally depressing, such as clips which seem to show Matt in a state of advanced drunkenness), but I will include a clip of 'Mistaken for strangers' here:
Lastly, but not leastly, I have prevously reviewed here several gigs by Cork hero Mick Flannery (see here and here), and he has been gradually holding gigs closer and closer to my house, clearly in response, and on Friday night he played upstairs in my local pub, The White Horse, a mere 5 mins walk away (the only closer gig was when Mark Eitzel played a solo gig in a pub across the road from where I lived in 1998 or so). The concert was, as always, far more enjoyable than Mick would have you believe it should be, and I took the opportunity to try the filming capabilities of my new iPhone 4.0, as showcased below for 'California':
Video quality is good, allowing for relatively good indoor light conditions, and I love the ease with which I could upload the clip straight to Youtube from the iPhone. A clip of 'When I've got a dollar' (not quite the same without the accompaniment of his auntie Yvonne) is below:
That's enough music for now. I have downloaded new stuff by Mogwai and Interpol, to band I have singularly failed in the past to really get in to (the former through never actually getting their stuff, to be honest) so am going to work on those and report next time. Other cultural adventures
As I have quite a few videos above, I will keep the rest of this post short and sweet. I went to see the Cork 'Star Wars invasion' show with my boys (10 and 4) and they thought it was pretty cool; well, to be honest, so did I. Well put together and packed with enough to keep the many nerds visiting (myself included) happy, with lots of models (no, not that sort, large AT-STs, Y-wings and so on), cool light shows and even some of the actors for photos and chat. The main draw was obviously Kenny Baker (R2-D2), and it was nice to see the guy who played Boba Fett, and the techie guy who apparently did the voice of General Grevious and others was funny and interesting in on-stage chat, but the other two ex-imperial officers were not exactly Harrison Ford-level novelty. Anyway, quite well done and worth a look.
On TV, I watched 'The reader', of which it may be faint damnation to say it wasn't as bad as 'The soloist', and I actually found it more watchable and gripping than expected; I think it said something for my level of engagement, however, that I did not actually realise the 'affair' scenes happened after, and not before, the war - I could not work out the chronology, perhaps not surprisingly. On Kindle, I pre-purchased and was sent 'The fall', which I am just starting (have a few books on the go now) as I really enjoyed 'The strain' (see here) - review to follow.
Tech-wise, I have just got an iPad, of which much more to follow, and my (iPhone) app of the week (and favourite in ages) is called My Artist, and when activated brings up a whole of of information about any artist in your collection, such as Wikipedia articles, Youtube clips and more - excellent for browsing while listening!
Earlier this week, I took the opportunity presented by St Patrick's Day to offer some well-earned praise for Irish music of a certain era (mid 1980s to early 1990s). It was a good day and the sun shone, which is pretty rare here, and a welcome break from economic gloom and doom. There are many reasons to be fed up in Ireland right now, from bankers, businessmen and politicians who may be venal, reckless, incompetent, or any combination of all the above, to rapidly increasing unemployment and equally rapidly decreasing salaries, leading to a general feeling of dispair and malaise.
However, even in the few days since March 17th, we have two more reasons to be happy in Ireland, and we are prepared to take any crumbs of comfort we can.
Firstly, despite the fact that I know as much about sport as a fish knows about philosophy, even I know that we just beat Wales in Rugby to win something called the Grand Slam. I even watched the match (despite genuinely not understanding any of the rules), and got carried away with emotion and excitement, just like several million other Irish people at home and abroad. We haven't managed this particular feat since 1948 (this I know because my now very proud father was there in person to see that match), and this is an enormous achievement which just might pierce our current gloom and raise spirits across the country, if only until the hangovers kick in, so let's enjoy it while we can.
Secondly, despite my very recent proclamations on Irish music of a decade ago, we still have some very very talented musicians, and my favourite of them right now, Cork's own Mick Flannery, just won the Meteor award (Irish music awards) for best male artist, and he deserves it, as he is really good, and he proves that the golden age may have scaled down a bit (what hasn't in Ireland these days) but there is still a lot of quality out there.
Well done Mick!
I will end this post with a clip of him playing 'Safety rope' in Cork's Pavillion Theatre last October. I admit that, yes, he appears to be invisible, but he was there, honestly (he is just blocked from view behind his piano by his backing vocalist with the spine-tingling vocals).
In my last post about Christmas music, somehow I forgot Mick Flannery's 'Christmas pas', re-released recently (after being on his first EP originally) with Kate Walsh guesting. Can't believe I forgot it but here it is belatedly in all its melancholic melodic majesty.
I have long grown accustomed, when asked what kind of music I listen to (by the majority of casual askers), to muttering something about it being stuff they wouldn’t have heard of. This time every year, I read every single critics’ top-whatever list, in magazines, in newspapers and on-line, and usually find only one or two which I have in my own list, and often experiment by buying the commonly-agreed best album(s), if I did not already have them.
This year, however, much to my surprise, I discovered a startling overlap between every best-of list and my own list, and that in almost every case I owned at least half the relevant top ten. Either I have finally been carried from my own meandering tributaries into the mainstream, or the mighty Nile has altered its course to join my little stream. It’s a bit of a shock, and I am not sure whether to feel comforted in affirmation of my taste, or worried that my tastes are becoming populist (although I have never been a believer in obscurity for the sake of it).
Anyway, here are some thoughts on the top albums of 2008:
Glasvegas, discovered late and downloaded with the Christmas EP based on the reviews of the package, was album of the year without a doubt and led me to the shocking realisation that young guitar bands from my large neighbouring island, which I had ignored for most of the last decade, could make brilliant music occasionally. The combination of sweetness, noise, heavy accents, and beautifully-written words of tender love, sadness and hooliganistic vulgarity, sometimes in the same sentence, were completely new for me and blew my socks off.
TV on the Radio was another startling discovery, as almost everything written about them and ‘Dear Science’ raised my heckles – funk, art rock etc. However, this was simply great stuff, and songs like ‘Halfway Home’, ‘Family Tree’ and the wonderful ‘Dancing Choose’ had me re-evaluating my entire musical belief system, like an agnostic suddenly witnessing an undoubted miracle.
I also mostly loved Vampire Weekend, and ‘Walcott’, ‘M79’, ‘Campus’ and, in particular, the goofily mad ‘Mansard Roof’ never fail to bring a smile to my face when I hear them; it's a pity some of the rest of the album, despite the overall brevity, failed to excite me as much. I also tried hard with Elbow and a weird thing has happened; while, for me, the whole album has not yet lived up to its reputation, some individual songs, particularly ‘Weather to fly’ and ‘One day like this’ keep breaking out of various playlists and grabbing my by the throat, demanding to be worshipped and mostly succeeding. This one seems to be a slow grower, and I fully expect to have to reconsider the whole package from scratch in the future.
Closer to home, Cork’s own Mick Flannery established his own sound on ‘White Lies’ and moved away from his debut’s debt to Tom Waits and, while his noisier moments still do little for me, he wrote his first true pop song in ‘Tomorrow’s papers’ and produced three atmospheric late night classics in 'Safety rope', ‘California’ and ‘Arise now’.
I was less excited than most critics about Nick Cave’s ‘Dig Lazarus Dig’; there is no artist for me in such erratic touch with the better angels of his nature, and more capable of swinging between extremes of darkness and light, and so each album for me must be judged individually on whether he is Jeckel or Hyde on the days of recording. ‘The Boatman’s Call’ is surely one of the most beautiful albums by anyone anywhere, and is at one end of his spectrum; ‘Lazarus’ has arisen at the far end, barely visible from the warm heights of ‘Are you the one that I’ve been waiting for’ and ‘There is a kingdom’, and too far into his noisy place for me.
Fleet Foxes and Bon Iver, who between them hovered up a lot of high best-of chart placings, both brought out good debuts, each of which bore a different sound and a couple of really interesting songs, but would not have been at the top of my list. Interestingly, my one-off download of the year was Fleet Foxes and Wilco covering ‘I shall be released’, put out to encourage young voters to come out for Obama in the US Election; this directly or indirectly led to one of my two most emotional TV moments of the year when he was elected, the other being Glen and Marketa winning the Oscar for ‘Falling Slowly’.
Old reliables like REM, Lambchop, The Cure and American Music Club all produced albums which, while in every case comfortingly familiar and reminiscent of their finest hours (all of them having provided me with some particularly fine hours in years gone by), felt somewhat disappointing and not up to former peaks of glory. I did try hard with Portishead, but must admit it scared me more than wowed me. The Killers and Coldplay adhered to the '50% principle' and the 'single song syndrome', respectively, the former producing an album which was half brilliant pop songs, half forgettable filler, and the latter producing an overhyped album with one fantastic song only, the irresistably stirring orchestral pomp of the title track.
The year also produced my favourite line of music journalism in a long time, if not ever, when Brian Boyd of the Irish Times, in his end of year review, described Sigur Ros’ album (another thrilling discovery for me this year) as the music Tolkien would have heard in his head when he was writing The Lord of the Rings – an absolutely perfect description.
Finally, the song of the year has to be the bizarrely-named but utterly beautiful ‘Boobar come back to me’, from Tindersticks’ ‘The Hungry Saw’. The bit near the end where Stuart Staples begins to duet with himself just takes my breath away. The 'irresistibly addictive tune of the year award' goes to the magnificently titled ‘Sequestered in Memphis’ by The Hold Steady (the quiet bit with the horns and handclaps alone would make the most cynical smile).
All in all, a great year for music, and time will tell whether my taste has really changed for good – or just the rest of the world’s!
It has been a LONG time since my last post, with too many things interrupting my best intentions to get back to my blog, and had almost thought of retiring, but then came Electric Picnic, and I was so overwhelmed I had to write about it and share it with anyone who might listen beyond those around me who are probably sick of me raving by now.
There are a lot of other things to catch up on (movies, books, music, TV, and in particular my epic devouring of ALL the Song of Fire and Ice books on Kindle on the iPhone - probably not good for the eyes, lets face it - and loving the series (especially season 2, episode 9, 'Blackwater', probably the best piece of television I have ever seen). However, all of those will have to wait until I get Electric Picnic out of my system.
To start with, we almost didn't get there at all. When the line-up came out, and I saw Sigur Ros, Killers, Elbow and, towering above all, The Cure, I immediately went on to Ticketmaster to get a family ticket for myself and my 12-year-old son (DK), but couldn't book for some reason. An email to the promoters revealed that the family tickets were already all gone, apparently to folks who booked them even before the line-up was announced. Sad faces all round. Then, that Friday, an incredibly thoughtful email from my new hero at the promoter to say that a new batch had come out and within an hour we had it secured. Happy faces all round.
So off we went, small tent (we had serious tent envy all weekend, compared to those who appeared to have brought the kitchen sink and all utensils too!) and not much more.
It was amazing. Sun shone. Music soared. Amazing. Far beyond anything I would have expected.
Friday was always going to be slower and quieter,and started with Grandaddy, who I actually really although I hadn't listened to The Sophtware Slump in years - can't get 'Crystal Lake' out of my head since. Then Grizzly Bear did nothing for either of us, and we left after 2 songs, to the sunshine, where Alabama Shakes were warming things up nicely, and sounded very good in fact, although I am not sure I would listen to a full album. Fair play for the full Indian headdress on the singer though!
A brief break from standing at Fossett's Circus later, we emerged to the XX, who I have never warmed too much, although I can certainly see what the fuss is about - a band to admire rather than love, and their live set did nothing to change my mind. Then a gap (quick run to check out Mark Lanegan - loud but class) and Sigur Ros came out (10 minutes late - the only late start we noticed) to initial noodling on keyboards followed by a sudden huge loud chord to make everyone jump out of their skins - first indelible moment of the festival - followed by a heavenly cacophony led by Jonsi sawing madly at his electric guitar with a violin bow. Didn't know the song but a subsequent bit of research found it to be iI gaer' from Harma, and I have now downloaded that one and is a great song! Overall, through, I am not completely sure their set worked on the big stage (and had the nagging feeling all weekend that many strange choices had been put on that stage which would have worked more in marquee and vice versa) but there were of course great moments, such as 'Hoppipolla' and 'Svefn-G-Englar' (can anyone really pronounce their song names - and those are two of the more straightforward - the way they probably should be pronounced?) .
Anyway, DK found it a bit slow, so persuaded me to try Ed Sheeran for a while; I had essentially no foreknowledge of this guy but all I can say is that
(a) everyone in the Electric Arena knew every single word of every single song (except me!)
(b) one song went on very very very long and had a backing track (cheat!)
(c) his biggest reaction was to an admittedly wow version of 'chasing cars'
It seemed like crowd-baiting kiddy stuff to me but undoubtedly powerful and DK loved it.
Saturday started with some sunshine and some Heathers (nice and worth checking out) and then Dry the River, whose CD I had downloaded three days before to give it a shot. They really are an incredible band, most songs starting high, slow and folky before building to an Arcade Fire/National epic - one formula variously applied, but it bloody works on songs like 'New ceremony', 'Weights and measures' and 'Chambers and the valves' and a very odd but appealing live act. Quiet singer with amazing voice partnered with bassist who looks like a defector from a heavy metal band and does all the talking. The quiet bits were ethereal and the peaks shook the ground - fantastic and really a band to get excited about (see video clip below).
The afternoon brought one of the two incredible reunion gigs of the weekend, which collected all the 40-somethings in the area (mostly male) and drew them to the tents like a magnet. Tom Dunne and
Something Happens took to the Cosby Stage (why so small?) and Tom pointed out gleefully that some of the audience hadn't been born when they last played, but some (most!) definitely had. They looked very happy to be back in action. For a while I thought the set was going to play 'Been there, seen that, done that' in entirety and possibly in order, and they seemed to ignore their troubled third album, but it really was a great set delivered with great humour and personality. There seemed to be some slagging on stage and rusty creaks between members, and Tom had to berate guitarist Ray Harmon in the persona of Bono at one point, but the old magic was clearly still there and hopefully they won't give up for good again now.
We also caught a fair chunk of Wild Beasts' set, but they just failed to do it for me live, and did nothing to shift the nonplussed reaction I have had to both their albums so far - I know they are good, and different, but I just can't really connect with the music for some reason.
Anyway, of course, Electric Picnic was always going to be for me about The Cure, and the thought of 3 full hours of them doing a greatest hits set live had kept me in some state of excitement for weeks. I had only seen them live once, in 1989, and had found that disappointing, but this was not a repeat. We started close to the front, and they started as I hoped they would with the majestic splendour of 'Plainsong', which I filmed as below. Strangely, in retrospect, comparing the start of their set with the start of Sigur Ros' can only make you think how much the latter have been (at a certain extent at least) influenced by the former.
After a while, we moved back, and the set was full of simply jaw-dropping moments as great song followed great song - the first hour alone included 'Inbetween days' (shown below, for some reason appearing as if shot underwater) and 'Just like heaven', consecutively if I remember correctly. As discussed later, 'Pictures of you' really moved me unexpectedly, and overall it was really a fantastic set and there is just no band who could put on so many songs that mean so much to me for so long. Close-up, they do look rather odd these days, with Robert sporting a sparkly black top and the guitarist (apparently Reeves Gabrels, not a traditional member) looking old, heavy and somewhat misplaced. There were only 1 or 2 unfamiliar songs, one of which seemed to feature both a harmonica and a wah-wah guitar, neither of which should be found easily in a Cure song. We did miss the end, heading briefly to catch some of Bell X1 (DK's request, and he had listened to over 2 hours of the Cure for me), but that was full and we were tired, so we headed campward, and sat outside listening to the astonishing final run of 'Why can't I be you?', '10:15 Saturday night' (around 2 hours late), 'Lovecats' and 'Killing an arab'. Just brilliant.
Sunday turned out to be one of the best days of the Irish non-summer, and was a cloudless scorcher, and the only way to pass the morning was stretched out in the sun listening to the Dublin Gospel Choir (not something I would normally do). The first main gig was Of Monsters and Men, as I loved the album, but we were a bit late getting there and couldn't even get near the tent, which was a huge pity as the album is really good. Anyway, then time for a few minutes of Mick Flannery, who is always good but we have seen maybe 10 times in Cork, so with apologies and without time to hear him inevitably apologising for dragging people away from the sun to hear his miserable (if mighty) songs, we headed to what I expected to be, and was, one of the highlights of EP 2012.
This was the reunion of Fat Lady Sings, fronted by the nicest man in Irish music, Nick Kelly (no insult, no sarcasm). I saw FLS (and Something Happens, as it Happens) in around 1988 in a series of Dublin gigs called 'Seven bands on the up' (sponsored by a drinks company - Sprite perhaps), and loved them, and their debut album 'Twist'. I also had bought several of Nick's solo albums, and remain on his mailing list. Live, this time, they just looked thrilled to be there, and the music was as beautiful as I remember. Obviously, 'Arclight' has never strayed far from my or general consciousness, but 'Deborah', 'Manscared' and, in particular, 'Contact' were brilliant, the latter showing how a song unheard for 20 years can suddenly grab your heart and emotions as if ne'er a day had passed....
Then the first main act of the evening, Elbow on the main stage. They really delivered a very impressive set, which affected me far more than I expected. Guy Garvey is a hell of an effective frontman, with banter, waves, hand gestures and everything he did leading the audience to perch in the palm of his hand, even if he cannot help but remind me constantly of Ricky Gervais. Their sound was brilliant, with strings and horns for many of the songs (as seen in photo below), and even the Irish youth choir for 'Lippy kids' (although to be honest I cannot say I really could discern their specific contribution).
Clips below of 'Weather to fly', which I think they said was one for the band themselves (which was less cocky than it may sound as most of the rest of the songs had been preluded by remarks about their being about them f**king things up) and was preceded with a lovely acoustic verse, and 'One day like this'.
The 45-minute interval between Elbow and the Killers allowed time for a quick run to see some of Tindersticks, always a favourite of mine (see previous post here). We only caught three songs, and it
certainly hit the slow and ruminant air of their most recent albums, and I am not sure Stuart Staples eyes opened at all while I watched. Class, undeniable class, but a bit too low-key. Below is set opener 'If you're looking for a way out' (an Opus cover, I think, from 'Simple pleasures'):
The Killers delivered a very large and powerful performance, to be fair, and have to be recognised as a really good guitar band who stand out because of the somewhat theatrical approach of their singer and
the massive layers of 80s synths they drape over everything. Live, they were tight and loud, if somewhat indifferent to the crowd (bar an opening 'Conas a ta tu'!) but have to be given marks for not overloading the set with tracks from their soon to be released new album 'Battle born' (great title, by the
way) - 3 I counted, and one 'Flesh and bone' sounds great at first listen). They did two cover versions, lighting up the Stradbally sky with lasers for 'Shadowplay' (how many of the audience will have known the sinister original?) and giving a nod to the locals with a short burst of Van Morrison's 'Brown-eyed
girl', both captured from (apologies) a bit far back in the crowd below, as well as 'All the things that I've done', with which they closed their main set (my attempts to get nearby members of the crowd to sing our home version - 'I've got ham but I'm not a hamster' - tragically came to naught):
The Killers then confused a huge proportion of the crowd (well, at least me, DK, and a few near us) by leaving the stage at 11.30 whereupon we headed away thinking of the last few minutes of Glen Hansard, only to hear them reappear for an encore, leading to a rapid turnaround for a lot of us between the main arena and the smaller stages to beat a hasty retreat back to hear the last few songs. This was definitely worth it, though, to hear the best 'rock and roll' line of the weekend, as Brandon Flowers preceded the final song ('When we were young') with the lines (and I may be paraphrasing) 'We are about to rock as hard as we can. Are you ready to receive as hard as you can?' and then...the brilliant line to the band 'Okay boys, lets see what this thing can do').
Minor disappointments:
1. Not getting there early enough to be in the tent
for Of Monsters and Men (see picture below of crowd OUTSIDE the tent listening)
2. Failing to bring a picnic blanket and hence sitting on dampish grass too much - top EP tip for sure.
3. Dexys - had bit of a listen to the new album beforehand and sounded good but they put on a bizarre show which seemed like 1920s music hall or something, and we both hated it, so didn't even wait to see just in case they played 'Come on Eileen' (which I would not have bet they would given the vibe they were exuding).
Pleasantest surprise (nonmusical):
No traffic problems. At all.
Top song moments:
1. The Cure 'Pictures of you' - for some reason, this just blew me away and transported me off during their set, although it would not have been immediately in my top 5 Cure songs and I hadn't heard it in
ages
2. The Cure 'In between days' (soundcheck, Saturday morning) - sunny morning, family campsite, perfect music suddenly comes into focus. The one that made me start this blog (see here).
3. Something Happens 'Hello, hello, hello (Petrol)' - they were having such fun it was impossible not to feel it, and working in 'Use somebody' and 'Smells like teen spirit' just added to the crack.
4. The Fat Lady Sings 'Contact' - again, how a song you have not heard for 20 years suddenly grips you with a passion and power you had completely forgotten, delivered by the nicest happiest looking band in the festival
5. Dry the river 'New ceremony' - a fantastic whisper to shout epic from my newest favourite band
6. Ed Sheeran 'Chasing cars' - ok, it is a cheat for his best song to be a cover version, but the visceral thrill of the packed-full Electric Arena tent singing every syllable of this was spine-tingling
So, that's it for Electric Picnic 2012, but not for the Culture Collection as lots more to catch up on now back to the blogging habit.
The author of this blog (AK) lives in Cork, Ireland, and works in higher education. He downloads more music than he has time to listen to, has around 10,000 songs on his PC, and always has a queue of DVDs he can't find time to watch; TV is consumed mostly through DVD box set catch-ups, and The West Wing is his absolute benchmark of perfection. He has a worrying gadget obsession, and in August 2010 he traded in his Nokia N95 and retired his 32-gB iPod Touch, for an iPhone 4.0, and has never looked back. He still clings to his Blackberry and Dell D430 laptop, though. Games-wise, his family have a Wii, several DSs and a PSP, but he has never found anything to match the visceral experience of first-person shooters on the PC, his all-time favourite probably being Half-Life 2. He may technically be a kidult. A general urge to share some random thoughts on all of the above, or just to write them down, led him to start this Blog. Please feel free to leave comments, or e-mail him at theculturecollection@gmail.com. He is also on Myspace at
http://www.myspace.com/theculturecollection.
It's official: he is wonderful
