British Sea Power @ Newcastle University 09/10/08

Upon entering the Basement, I am trembling with a nervous excitement at the chance to see if an this Mercury-nominated band’s live show pays a suitable tribute to the glowing nature of their reviews for third LP ‘Do You Like Rock Music’? After all, said album (in addition to the two preceding ones) boasts beautiful, heart-wrenching anthems, designed by the band themselves to ‘challenge the listener’s perspective on what rock music actually is’. But can they cut it live? (I won’t mention at this point that I witnessed a superb display last year in the slightly smellier, colder surroundings of All Saints Church which promptly converted me to the Sea Power cause. For now, I am a neutral observer).
Well the answer is a glaringly obvious ‘absobloodylutely’. The moment the band arrive on stage, singer Yan (Scott?) Wilkinson begins proceedings with a shy ‘Hello, we’re going to play this one first for my Dad ‘cos he’s here tonight but has to get the Metro back to Sunderland in half an hour....’ the audience is smitten. Well, those down at the front are anyway, leaping around in ecstasy to a ferocious Remember Me disposed of in a three-minute flurry of furious aggression. Some have described BSP as ‘the Futureheads sparring with Arcade Fire’. Either way, it’s awesome.
As the set gathers pace, the band’s slightly eccentric tendencies (the stage is covered in foliage and stuffed owls) become prevalent. A reconstruction of the sweeping instrumental ‘The Great Skua’ slows everything down and gives fans a chance to breathe, while the backdrop of a projection of penguins on to a screen provides a welcome distraction from now static musicians. Then it’s back to business as usual, lead guitarist Martin Noble’s understated, melodic riffs sailing over the mesh of noise for the frantic Down on the Ground and, most impressively, the jaw-dropping Carrion. It doesn’t take long to realise that this band actually has everything one could want from a rock outfit, especially in their obvious joy at beating out their songs which is thus enhanced by the appearance of ‘Ursine Ultra’, a 12-foot (fake!) bear that makes an appearance during the encore for an insane Spirit of St. Louis, which sees piggy-backs among band members, the theft of Noble’s trouser leg and a prolonged crowdsurf from Yan.
One leaves the venue completely bewildered, but buzzing. And that’s probably exactly how a rock concert should be.

Review by Kate Edwards (images by Solveig Werner)

Elbow @ Carling Academy 05/04/08

Shortly after entering the Academy, at the excruciatingly early (in gig terms) time of 7.10pm, I find myself bombarded with the howling blues-rock of San Francisco’s Two Gallants. Comprised of guitarist and vocalist Adam, and rather feral-looking drummer Tyson, they are undoubtedly one of the most brilliant support acts I have seen for months, causing an instant, and surprisingly noisy, impact upon the not-quite-fully-assembled crowd. In what seems like no time at all however, they are off and Elbow’s crew are on to prepare for the main event.
Elbow are often seen as the ‘thinker’s alternative’ to bands like Snow Patrol and Coldplay. However, where these bands are bland and boring, Elbow are not only intelligent but, in performance, both sweepingly epic and riotous. Their astounding musicianship does not substitute, but constantly understates their superiority as life-affirming anthems pound through the PA. Opening with the orchestral pomp of ‘Starlings’, the band members enter to the tinkling arpeggios of a pre-recorded track, accompanied by an all-female string section, and pick up trumpets for a first, sharp blast of things to come. The fact that singer Guy Garvey’s trumpet is not amplified and is therefore merely for show simply adds to the audience’s amusement and appreciation of the effort of causing a spectacle. The Latino-flecked ‘The Bones of You’ is dispatched next, causing much dancing and spilling of drinks. Soon after this we are treated to a track that many would argue is Elbow’s best, the bluesy stomp-a-long of ‘Leaders of The Free World’. The uproar at the forefront of the crowd says it all as Guy Garvey’s astounding stage presence incites mayhem. He may look like a plumber, but it is this ‘bloke-from-Manchester’ quality that makes him so endearing. He is undoubtedly perfect for the presentation of such gorgeous music, leaning over the crowd with a huge grin on his face, swaying his arms and serenading his followers with his gruff, yet cherubic, voice. ‘Mirrorball’s floating piano line and yearning lyrics make it a heartbreaking precursor to the Zeppelin-esque guitar drive of recent single ‘Grounds for Divorce’, which in turn sharply contrasts with the expertly crafted ‘The Loneliness of a Tower Crane Driver’. All is going swimmingly, and during one of his many addresses to the crowd, Guy ponders upon the band’s recent duet with Sheffield crooner Richard Hawley. ‘We thought it was a shame that Richard couldn’t be here with us tonight’, he explains, ‘so…….here he is!’ and, as if by magic, Richard Hawley ambles on to the stage to mass applause for a rousing version of ‘The Fix’. A few songs later and the band are closing the set with a stunning organ-led seven-minute ‘Newborn’ from debut ‘Asleep In The Back’ and provoking a mass sing-a-long to the gospel-tinged ‘One Day Like This’, its uplifting strings and repeated refrain of ‘Throw those curtains wide, one day like this a year will see me right!’ continuing for what seems like forever without losing its majesty. All it would take for Elbow to cement their place as a special band in the hearts of many was a killer encore, and they did not disappoint. ‘Station Approach’, their ever-popular love letter to Manchester, shakes the venue, and as the band once more bring out Richard Hawley for the ultimate crowd-pleaser ‘Grace Under Pressure’ (which is ‘a bit Catholic’, according to Mr Garvey), everybody in the venue is left stunned and exhilarated. Bring on the festivals.

Review by Kate Edwards

Morrissey @ Sunderland Empire 01/02/08

The idea that Morrissey is outdated is as outdated as Margaret Thatcher's hair. After a truly terrible support band (entitled 'Girl In A Coma' - my brother and I spent half their set trying to guess the gender of the drummer, so bored were we with their shouting riot-grrrrr noise) and a bizarre introduction comprising of a projection of James Dean wardrobe tests and some old footage of the New York Dolls, the real show began. And from the moment he strolled on stage in a tuxedo and announced, in thundering tones 'Sunderland, can you bear some poetry?' before launching into that old Smiths classic 'Stop Me If You Think You've Heard This One Before', it was obvious that the great man has not lost his ability to incite chaos.
With the living guitar legend that is Boz Boorer leading the tight-as-Borrell's-jeans band, beautiful songs were laced with friendly banter and a genuine humility that would astonish even the harshest of his critics. It was not long before the audience erupted into crazed chants which did more than dislodge dust in the 111-year-old theatre, prompting embarrased laughter from the icon himself. For a renowned miserabilist, Morrissey's banter was second to none. 'I woke up at 4pm in the morning.....in Newcastle' he exclaimed, to mock-boos, 'and was confronted with a world of snow. It was beautiful. And it had to be Newcastle.....' Interaction with the crowd extended to politics. 'So, who's rooting for Hillary Clinton?' More boos. 'Obama?' Cheers all round. 'Thought so'.
The 19-song set comprised of material old ('The Loop', which saw the 48-year-old propelling himself across the stage bashing a tambourine) to the brand new, such as the single 'That's How People Grow Up', and new tracks such as 'I'm Throwing My Arms Around Paris' and 'Mama Lay Softly On The Riverbed'. As catchy and promising as the new songs sounded, however, it was 'the old ones are the best' that rang particularly true, with a particular highlight revolving around a breathtaking, seven-minute recreation of The Smiths' 'How Soon Is Now?' Howling guitars, psycadelic basslines and strobe lights caused each audience member to join their hero in a closing of eyes, ecstasy etched on each face. A similar feat was achieved as soaring pianos and a huge gong complemented the building up of 'Life Is A Pigsty' from eerie shuffle into full-blown climax, which left the singer lying on his back with his feet on an amplifier and arms outstretched, seemingly unable to stand up for a full five minutes. Of the ‘poppier’ songs, 'Irish Blood, English Heart' was disposed of with aplomb, and 'The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores' implored every body in the building to punch the air at the deadpan delivery of lines such as 'educated criminals work within the law!' and the bitter assertion of 'thicker than pig-shit' pop stars being 'unable to show intelligence'. One feels that this is especially poignant when so many a music fan nowadays prefers the dross of the likes of Lily Allen, Kate Nash and Mika to a true poet like Morrissey. And as the great man brought the show to a close with a euphorically ironic 'Last Of The International Playboys', before reaching out to touch fervoured fans and throwing his sweat-drenched shirt into the pit of pilgrims before him, it was obvious that it is going to take something incredibly special to usurp the Mozfather. Long may he live on.

Review by Kate Edwards