A few pals went along to see Prince at this relatively Tiny venue……here’s Daves review…..

Prince

The second gig at The Academy in Manchester on the 22nd Feb was the culmination of a bizarre few weeks for me. It was set in motion by Prince and his new band 3rd Eye Girl.

At the start of February the social media, fans and journalists were predicting where and when Prince would be playing the first of his secret gigs. I had my radar locked on twitter but it was my daily dose of Shaun Keaveny and music reporter Matt Everitt that broke the news in which he succeeded in turning every Prince fan hulk green with envy. He’d been with a handful of journalists invited to Lianne la Havas’ apartment to interview the elusive megastar and then went on to an exclusive show at the Electric Ballroom in Camden. The general consensus seemed to be that this most gifted of musicians was back to his best.

In his interview with Matt Everitt, Prince had remarked that fans would only be charged £10 for tickets on the door because he didn’t yet know whether people would like his new band. He was either being very humble or extremely wise in his foresight as to what was to follow. The ardent fervor of fans prepared to queue in wind and rain, for up to 12 hours, to see their idol in intimate surroundings for £10 made this guerilla venture into gigging all the more compelling. I was glued to the story and very envious that the Londoners were getting all of the action. But Manchester gigs were in the offing.

It felt as though the stars were aligning in my favour. He’d played his last London gig at Ronnie Scotts on Monday night and was rumoured to be giving the first award at the Brits on Wednesday. It was highly likely therefore that the Manchester gigs would be Friday and Saturday night but where would they be? Bridgewater Hall, The Ritz, Apollo or Albert Hall? All small intimate venues.

On his predicted appearance at The Brits he announced that in Manchester ‘we’re going to rock it up there a little bit’. What totally threw people was the announcement on Wednesday night that Prince was to play The Academy on Friday and Saturday night with tickets going on sale for £70 each. I managed to snap up two tickets for Saturday.

Even though this ploy had gone against the Hit and Run Tour tactics in London which had been much cheaper in smaller venues, I had no qualms paying for two tickets at £70 a pop. I wouldn’t have to queue in the rain and I was still going to see my idol for the fourth time in by far the smallest venue I’ve seen him before. Following previous gigs at Birmingham’s NEC, Manchester GMEX and London’s O2 this was going to be special.

I’ve grown up with Prince. From eleven years old to my mid twenties he was the artist that set the precedent for any other artist or band that I was to follow. I watched Purple Rain countless times and knew every word to every song from 1999 to The Gold Experience. I don’t know whether it was my musical tastes that had changed, or that Princes’ albums in the late 90’s lacked the energy of the previous 15 years but he’d disappeared from my radar for some time. Every now and then I’d peak through the curtains to see what he was up to, but now it felt right to see him play again. In fact the urge was monumental.

We arrived at the venue at 7pm to join a sizeable queue. The girls in front of us had paid £300 for their two tickets, but they weren’t regretful in any way. “It’s only money, and you’ll never see him like this again”. They were right on both counts but it still irked me and the way in which touts operate.

At 7:30 the queue had wound its way into the entrance of The Academy. It was only half full on gaining entry. I’d taken my sister in law, Andrea, and two other friends James and his sister Laura from Urmston. Andrea let out a mini yelp at how small the venue was. The last time we saw him was at the O2. This was 10 times smaller. With drinks purchased we made our way to the right of the stage. Laura had a tip to go right as the mini maestro spends a lot of his time on stage at the keyboard on the right. This was also closer to the bar which was a better reason. My only fear was my legendary weak bladder. If he plays a long set I was going to lose my spot.

We were 15 metres from the stage and the atmosphere was electric. Just before 8pm the 3 band members of 3rd Eye Girl; Donna Grantis (guitar player), Hannah Ford (drums) and Ida Neilsen (bass) came out to rapturous applause. It was Hannah who respectfully asked the crowd not to take photos or record footage of the night ahead. It felt genuine and very few took advantage throughout the night. Those that strayed were picked out by burly bodyguards who embarrassed offenders with a flashing maglite and they promptly stopped.

A minute later the lights dipped, the guitars belted out and a voice yelled ‘That was then, this is now. We’re going to have a party!’ The roof almost lifted off the place there and then. An afroed Prince was there 15 metres away. He hadn’t aged. Apart from the hair he hadn’t changed. He glided around the stage, and belted out singing a slowed up version of Let’s Go Crazy. The party started.

From that moment on Prince made a connection with the crowd like no other performer I’ve seen. It didn’t happen in the big arenas where I’ve seen him before. Those gigs have always been good but not hugely memorable. This was different. He made it feel as though there were 200, not 2000 people in the room. He smiled, he winked, he danced with a cool arrogance that any other 55 year old would be a tad embarrassed with. And for the next 3 hours Prince and his new girl band took us through 40 tracks with 6 encores.

Not only were the crowd loving it, he and the band were loving it too. There were playful looks and smiles between them all night which made us smile. At one point he got a dozen people from the crowd to come on stage and dance as he played the keyboard. A grungy looking bearded dancer got a special mention as he left the stage with Prince applauding and saying thanks to ‘Mumford & Sons’.

There were countless highlights for me but the one I keep recalling is Sign “O” the Times, followed by Hot Thing and then Forever In My Life and later Housequake at which point the bass nearly lifted the roof off, again. The hairs stood on the back of my neck for as long as one of his encores. This might sound ridiculous but I found myself thinking a few times that I was in First Avenue in Minneapolis. I kept glancing over to Donna Grantis on guitar with long hair on one side and a shaved head on the other which made her look like Wendy from The Revolution. I half expected Morris Day and The Time to appear, and challenge the band to a battle off.

It was only when a handful of drunken Mancunians stole our elbow room for a while that I was brought back to the reality of being in studentville Manchester. Thankfully they didn’t stay long but it was never going to ruin the vibe. This was my most precious of musical heroes playing the soundtrack to half of my life before my smiley eyes.

The band left the stage after 1hr 40 mins but it felt as though there was still a long time to go. The previous night’s second gig that never was, due to low numbers outside, meant it was highly unlikely they’d do the same tonight. So we were there for the long haul. Each time they stopped for a break nobody moved, even when the lights went on. James kept nudging me to say the roadie had put the mike back on its stand. He was coming back on! His first encore delivered old classics at the piano including Starfish & Coffee, The Beautiful Ones, Sometimes It Snows in April and Nothing Compares 2 U. Good call Laura, we were at the keyboard side.

The second of his covers came in the next return to stage as he belted out Play That Funky Music by Wild Cherry. His return this time saw him adorned with a head band around his afro that had me thinking of John McEnroe. It was all very surreal. Time became irrelevant. My bladder even knew it couldn’t leave at any point.

After their 6th encore and 3 ¼ hours later the party was coming to an end. He lifted his guitar above his head and shouted “we are the best and so are you!” They certainly were and I think we were that night too.

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The four of us didn’t talk much on the way home. The music buzzed around our heads. Laura was ‘encored out’, Andrea digested what had just happened before her eyes, and me and James tried to decide if it was the best gig we’ve ever seen. Two days later I know it was.

Setlist here

David Warne

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There’s something about Cate Le Bon that I can’t quite put my finger on…….but I love it. She has a fantastic stage prescence that just draws you in. It felt like she’d only been on for 5 minutes when she was announcing the last song “Awwwwwwww” “Well, y’know, we’ll come back on in a minute”…….

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It was my daughters 17th birthday so I’d bought 2 tickets just in case she hadn’t organised anything and she could come along. As it happened she had her pals round (watching ‘Life of Brian’) so Sledge joined me for this sold out gig which turned out to be a fantastic night. We skipped the support in favour of a beer and a chat in the other room with Mark – the general concensus being they’d rather have seen fellow Welshman ‘Sweet Baboo’ do a set (he’s playing bass for Cate on this tour).

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The band came on to a tape asking not to take photos but to send postcards instead – available to buy after the gig. I did take a few on my phone without flash as that’s what this blog does and hope she can forgive me because I would never want to offend this woman. She looked like she could have just come from work at the potters wheel in what looked like a black artists smock (though no clay smudges evident). When she sings in English her voice has that wonderful Abba-esque quality when a foriegn accent shines through. A fantastic brace of songs that had the crowd eating out of her hand.

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When she introduced the band she made note of Sweet Baboo’s black jumpsuit “He looks like he’s just come off the crystal maze”. She also said how much they like the Brudenell – well, don’t we all! I got a (sadly not pink) vinyl copy of her new ‘Mug Museum‘ LP and look forward to wearing it out.

Bob the Chiropodist

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Met up with a bunch of pals to see British Sea Power play the soundtrack to ‘From the Sea to the Land Beyond’ live as part of the Ilkley Film Festival (Ilkley doesn’t have a cinema yet but I’m sure this will get the locals galvanised). What a great noise they make, full of energy and pathos which beautifully matched the Great British seaside scenes on view. As a BSP newbie I didn’t feel I could do this justice so Mark stepped into the breach………

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In the interests of full disclosure, I should say now this isn’t an unbiased review of British Sea Power’s performance of From The Sea To The Land Beyond at the King George’s Hall in Ilkley.  I’m a fan, I’ve seen them dozens of times, usually in the company of people who’ve seen them hundreds of times (that’s not an exaggeration).  It’s the whole package that appeals; of course there’s their music, which can vary from flag-waving indie rock anthems to epic excursions into post rock that would have Sigur Ros looking at their crown, to folk-like sea shanties or scrappy garage punk thrash…usually snuggling up against each other on the same LP.  But on top of that there’s an image and an attitude of cheerful dissent, more in common the mass trespass on Kinder Scout that your usual bleeding heart leftie musicians.  The gigs are true performances, the band giving their all, often ending up in the crowd or scaling the balconies, foliage, flags and plastic birds decorating the stage and the bears geeing the crowd up – not that your average British Sea Power audience needs much encouragement.  And then there’s the merchandise; they’re on their 14th mug design, lord alone knows how many t-shirts they’ve come up with, all of which is pretty standard to most bands – but their own beer, long before Iron Maiden & Elbow came in on the act?  Tea? Kendal mint cake!  Soap!!  Some very nice xmas cards a couple of years back, too.

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So it might be considered normal that a band who formed around the turn of the century and released their first LP (the self-effacingly titled The Decline Of British Sea Power) a little over 10 years ago would put out a best of around now. But this is British Sea Power, so normal goes out the window.  Those not-quite hits, live favourites and a couple of obscurities that anyone else would package up and sling out as an xmas cash-in have instead been lovingly and quite radically rearranged into a largely instrumental soundtrack for the film we gathered here to watch From The Sea To The Land Beyond.  The title comes from the British Sea Power song, The Land Beyond.  The film itself…well, one more thing about British Sea Power first.  This isn’t their usual crowd, though some of the more dedicated have travelled from the wilds of Lincolnshire to be here.  No, this is definitely more the Ilkley Film Festival’s audience, gathered in what is basically a glorified church hall dedicated to beard hero George V, who’s glowering down at us from above the stage. It’s more used to the Sooty Show and 60s revival bands than art-rock and experimental film…
From The Sea To The Land Beyond is part of a trend to raid the British Film Institute and similar organisations’ archives for the 100 years or so of historical footage in them and bring it together into a unified piece of cinema, with little or no narration, simply allowing the images and music to speak for themselves.  Recycling the past?  Perhaps. Similar efforts include Bill Morrison’s bleak meditation on the rise & fall of the British coal industry, The Miners’ Hymns.  That’s accompanied by a suitably mournful brass-led soundtrack by Icelandic composer Johann Johannson.  There’s also Song From The Shipyards (substitute shipbuilding for coal), a less successful film but with music by The Unthanks, so that more than makes up for any disappointment on screen.
Where From The Sea To The Land Beyond differs from these is that it doesn’t try to create a narrative from the archive material.  Instead, there’s a broadly chronological sweep across the last century or so to create an impression of the British relationship with the sea. Themes of work & play, destruction and creation are the anchors which hold it all together.  Fishing and shipbuilding feature, as do scenes of cargo being shipped around the world; this contrasts to hordes of people in their Sunday best gathering in Blackpool (and it’s always Blackpool) for fun & frolics, whether it’s 1912, 1952 or 2012.  But some of those jolly games are between soldiers, shortly to be shipped off to the First World War, giving a sinister edge to the horseplay.
If you’re into film, or history, then you’re very likely going to love this.  That’s without considering the gorgeous British Sea Power soundtrack, either recorded or as we have it here, performed in front of us, the band with backs to the audience, staring intently at the screen for visual cues.  As mentioned, these are all previously released songs, but with the vocals mostly stripped away & carefully reworked to compliment the images on screen.  The only times when a film slips up is when it tries to make a political point. During scenes of Commonwealth troops landing in Britain after World War Two, a plummy Pathe newsreel voiceover reminds the viewers in 1945 & 2014 what a debt we owe them; as if to emphasize this, British Sea Power bring a snatch of the original lyrics back…’and we’re not going home…’ either as a celebration of cultural diversity or a dire warning (I’m going with the former).  There’s also the counterpoint of the frankly ridiculous uniforms & hairstyles of the City traders who moved into London’s Docklands when the docks were no longer needed, with that of the dockers who once worked there. It’s as if Penny Woolcock, the director, is trying to hammer home which of these groups of workers added any real value…I think we know which it is.

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These minor points aside, From The Sea To The Land Beyond is a beautiful piece of cinema, continually returning to the central theme of what British Sea Power themselves sang about on their classic single, Carrion; ‘always, always, always the sea’.  All the more poignant perhaps, considering the continuing storms ravaging the south coast. There’s a blink & you miss it moment where happy holidaymakers in the 1930s are being shipped to the beaches of the South West on the Cornish Riviera train; it crosses Dawlish Warren, along the section of track that as of a couple of weeks ago, isn’t there any longer.
If you want to see what British Sea Power look like stood up & facing the crowd, their Easter tour brings them to York, Holmfirth and Sheffield.  I hope to see you there.

Mark Pomroy

 

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It’s only been 4 months since the Wave Pictures last wandered into town but it’s always a pleasure to see them back. I bought their beautiful new LP ‘City Forgiveness’ (on lovely white vinyl) and popped out to put it in the car. When I came back in, Jonny Strangeways on the door said “Has that come out since they last played here?” “Yeah” “They produce so much stuff! I first booked them about 10 years ago when they were a Jonathan Richman covers band – they even had 4 CD’s out back then!”. They played a good chunk of the new LP tonight and I think, if it’s possible, that they’re getting better and better!

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Leeds own Finnmark! played an enjoyable set of C86 inspired indie pop that got the crowd going – their home made 6 Track EP comes with some lovely artwork too – only £3 – go on, give it a go!

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Things I noticed about The Wave Pictures this time – 1) David Tattersall had a different guitar from 4 months ago and not an effects pedal in sight. I always imagine amazing guitarists have their own special guitar that they’ve nurtured since they were teenagers but I guess when you’re as good as he is, you can play anything. 2) Franic Rozycki had an ‘Allo Darlin’ T-shirt on who they toured the States with……’Like Smoke‘ has officially replaced ‘Tallulah’ as my ‘on repeat obsession’. 3) Jonny ‘Huddersfield’ Helm can sing other songs apart from the Johnny Cash one, whilst wildly drumming at the same time.

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Jez came along for the first time as a birthday present, it was Sledges first time too. Martin, BoyLee and I were on repeat viewing and we all will be again. Always a pleasure, never known to let you down – The Wave Pictures!

Bob the Chiropodist

 

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I like @wardrobeleeds gigs, not least because they retweet you if you mention you’re going to see one of the shows there. And they did it again following my afternoon tweet at the prospect of seeing @averagecabbage, one of my #antifolkheroes.

I was particularly wide-eyed with excitement having been an Adamite (I just made that up) since being introduced to his work a couple of years ago by a film producer I was working with (that sounds exciting, but it was actually a corporate promotional video). I’d also missed his acclaimed live tour with Binki Shapiro last year.  And I’d just had a large slice of Bob-the-Chiropodist’s homemade Panettone-Bread-and-Butter pudding too. Delicious btw.

I reckon someone had put something in Adam’s dessert because when he came on stage his eyes were as wide as the plate I’d just eaten mine off.

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Dressed in skinny jeans, studded belt and frilly shirt, Mr Green would have passed for any regular indie rocker in a New York look that has been passed down from the Ramones to the Strokes and beyond. But the sailor’s hat made it special.

Green was on top form, entertaining Bob, me and a couple of hundred others to a grab-bag of his greatest vignettes from a solo catalogue studded with gemstones (geddit?), and ably supported on acoustic guitar by fellow Moldy Peach collaborator Toby Goodshank.

Top treats included Gemstones (natch), Bluebirds, Emily, Friends of Mine, Tropical Island, Party Line, Carolina, The Prince’s Bed, No Legs, Pay the Toll, Novotel, Drugs… Did I mention he likes drugs? His songs are short so you get plenty of them in a show like this.

And if that had been it, then it would have been brilliant. But there was more…

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Adam Green is known for his visual art, movie (The Wrong Ferarri (sic), featuring McCauley Culkin, Pete Doherty, BP Fallon, Jeffrey Lewis and others from his crazy, (allegedly) Ket-fuelled world filmed entirely on an iPhone and available to watch free here), as well as his anti-folk, indie, bluesy, comedic songs of life, loves and drug-taking. Did I mention he likes drugs?

And so he regaled his tales through song, narrative and, erm, dance. He even managed a stage dive and, much to Toby’s bemusement as well as ours, a refrain of Springsteen’s Born to Run in the middle of his rendition of the wonderful Jessica, probably his most famous number.

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He is truly a very talented lyricist, songwriter, guitarist and offbeat entertainer.  If you don’t mind the randomness. It’s the randomness that makes him brilliant; a flawed genius, perhaps, or a diamond in the rough…

Which brings me to his next project, the soundtrack to a new film, Aladdin, for which he intends to use a real movie camera this time. But don’t hold your breath. Green intends to Crowdsource the funding as he has no money just now (where did all the money go?) and our offer to buy tee shirts won’t quite cover it.

But buy a tee shirt I did and Bob and I got a chance to say hi to Adam after the show. He even offered to sign it for me. But we couldn’t locate a pen before he was whisked off to chat with other Adamites (there’s that word again).

I’d had his signature quirkiness all night, I’d even had Bob’s signature dish. I didn’t really need an actual signature too.  Two of anything is all it takes for me to be happy. I mean “how many drugs does it take to find something to do, everybody?  It takes two.”

@Jezboy

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