Despite what you might think, I didn't scab free entry into every gig. As a Last Gang fan I wanted to make sure they got some slight profit out of their trip down South so I gladly paid up to get in. My gig buddy refused to come - he thought I was only going because they're from Leeds. No, I was going because I think they're a good band!
Words - Suzy Sims
Previously published on Native.tv http://www.native.tv in Feb 07
(c) Niche News & Publishing Ltd
LAST GANG, THE BIZETS, SECOND TO BOTTOM
@ Southampton Joiners, 6th February 2007
The bands were good – shame about the audience
I’m sorry. I just don’t see the point in paying £5 to watch a selection of bands and then spending three hours with your back to the stage texting your mates. It’s a waste of money and it’s a waste of the bands’ time. Particularly when all the Last Gang boys have come all the way from Wakefield only to be confronted with the back of your head.
I arrived at the venue during Second To Bottom (F.K.A. The Crease) but by the time I’d got my hands on a rum and coke they’d almost finished, so can’t really comment on them. From what I heard, the singers weren’t going to win X Factor in the near – or distant - future, but the guitar playing was raucous and rollicking with some entertaining rapping (certainly hadn’t expected to hear ‘One potato, two potato…’) Strangely the crowd seemed to be stood in large groups, with a couple leaning their backs on the speakers and glancing around occasionally with bored indifference. I put this down to the Early Effect - many people don’t turn up for opening acts; plus most of the audience didn’t look old enough to drink and lose their inhibitions. Time for another rum and coke…
The Bizets – who some people might have recognised as the latest incarnation of Pinstripe Legacy - played a mix of reggae, offbeat rock and ska pop.
They were certainly enjoyably dancey and I got the impression much of the crowd had turned up just for them. Although I wouldn’t say there was a push to the front, it definitely became more cramped and there were even a couple of dancers. However when a photographer plus entourage moved, there was an enormous gap so I nipped over to the barrier/speakers for a better view (and future hearing problems).
Shortly before the headliners, the crowd seemed to melt away. Fine by me, I like a bit of elbow room; but it’s not good when all the band sees is a few backs, some folded arms and my spotty face dancing in their line of vision. There were literally four or so of us at the front. It felt so weird. Last Gang were fantastic. Comparisons to the Arctic Monkeys are justified – they aren’t as raw and are more poppy, but there’s the same tunefulness. Single ‘Beat of Blue’ was thrown out just two songs into the set, showing the high standard of their other material. At this point, people were looking at me oddly for knowing the words. The band aren’t remotely known round here but the gig goers could have made an effort to dance or mosh or something – why come otherwise?
At this early stage in their career, Last Gang are showing a lot of promise and they should be a force to be reckoned with by the end of the year. Their songs attracted a few people away from the bar but they stood near the back, possibly fearing these strange unknown Northerners. It was a short night, with everyone finished by around half 10. I don’t know what was wrong with the crowd but their lack of enthusiasm for pretty much everything wound me up a hell of a lot and means ths review is lacking in stars. Forget what you look like and just have fun, boys and girls.
http://www.myspace.com/lastganguk
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NME INDIE RAVE TOUR
Klaxons, CSS, The Sunshine Underground, New Young Pony Club
@ Portsmouth Pyramids, 20th February 2007
‘DJ!’‘DJ!’The crowd is on tiptoe in the darkness waiting to explode, and those cheeky Klaxons are teasing us with the intro to ‘Atlantis To Interzone’. ‘DJ! DJ! DJ!’ Then the sirens launch…
This new rave movement seems to be lasting far longer than other NME tagged predecessors, such as ‘shroomadelica’ (the other summer apparently) and with the spectre of ‘new riot’ looming on the horizon with beer can and pool cue in hand, it’s a mild surprise to find its poppy dance cousin hasn’t already been bundled into the dirt and spat on. This is the NME Indie Rave Tour which is running alongside the Indie Rock one; the first time they’ve managed two tours at once. And both are sell-outs everywhere. Indie rave is more in the public eye with Klaxons banging their way into the album top five and The Gossip standing in everyone’s way.
But onto the tour. New Young Pony Club are first on stage. “All right Portsmouth?” yells frontwoman Tahita Bulmer. There’s a happy guitarist (or maybe bassist; can’t quite see where I’m standing) wearing a t shirt with a Swedish flag on it and keyboardist Lou is the picture of icy glamour, a knowing smile occasionally appearing.
The band spends much of the set dodging the glowsticks hurled at them or throwing them back. Whether this is a sign that the crowd doesn’t like them, or just a reminder that if you give an English person something they will throw it at your head, we don’t know but it must be fairly distracting to have neon twigs whirling an inch past your face.
Single ‘Ice Cream’ is the most popular track, with “I can give you what you want…” resulting in happily dancing girls just in front of us. They did a good job in warming up the audience – to me, southern crowds tend to be a bit more cynical and less welcoming than elsewhere, so good work NYPC.
Time to move a bit closer for The Sunshine Underground. I’ve seen them before and they’re excellent live. Craig Wellington proudly lifts his guitar, playing up for the crowd, and at the same time a girl lifts up my mobile which dropped out my bag in the mosh pit. Whoops. TSU play new single ‘Borders’, ‘I Ain’t Losing Any Sleep’, a killer ‘Raise The Alarm’ and everyone goes wild for ‘Commercial Breakdown’. No ‘Dead Scene’ which I was a little sad about, but Craig’s forceful vocals and whoops get everyone happily bouncing into each other and being sucked into crowd surges. When playing live, they stretch out songs into lengthy pieces to dance to which are great fun. I return to my gig buddy dripping in sweat; he looks at me slightly askance and says the band were brilliant.
We move slightly to the side for CSS (aka Cansei de Ser Sexy - or ‘tired of being sexy’ – we know how you feel loves), leaving the centre for the real fans, or the ones with their dancing shoes on anyway. They come on stage in what look like giant bin bags. My friend has his current affairs hat on, and points out that as Brazilians perhaps they are dressed in body bags to draw attention to the controversial shooting of a countryman. Anyway, these covers are soon ripped off and CSS open with a tune purloined from 2Unlimited’s ‘No Limit’, even breaking into a verse of the classic track. It’s a cracking start. Mad frontwoman Lovefoxxx removes a few items of clothing and gets shaking sexily around the stage, throwing carrots at the audience. Carrots are of course the brightly coloured glowsticks of the vegetable world. New rave indeed. Sadly I’m unfamiliar with most of their tracks, but they did play ‘Off The Hook’ and my personal favourite ‘Let’s Make Love And Listen To Death From Above’, although the gorgeous Theremin subtleties were almost lost in the Pyramids’ acoustics, damn them.
There’s enough time to nip outside with a smuggled half pint of beer and get some fresh air before Klaxons come on stage. Suddenly the stage lights are blue, very blue. I can barely see a thing. Then ‘The Bouncer’ kicks in – “If your name’s not down, you’re not coming in!” they scream and let loose with a fierce cacophony of noise. “Not tonight, not at the Pyramids!” In front of me people are jumping away, arms and neon sticks aloft.
Then comes ‘Atlantis To Interzone’ – firstly I thought it was a little odd to put their best song so high on the setlist, then I realised they wanted to get everyone dancing crazily. And it worked. The sirens were an alarm for practically everyone in the venue to leap forwards and launch themselves at everyone else. It was crazy, it was awesome. Earlier I’d had the following exchange with my friend:
Me - “We’re going to do lots of dancing tonight and not stand at the back.”
Him – “When you say ‘we’, do you mean ‘you’?”
Me – “So, I’ll be dancing lots and you’ll be standing at the back?”
Him – “Better.”
But Klaxons crumbled his resolve and he was jumping around with the best of them. People were crowdsurfing from the back of the venue. We found a glowstick on the floor which I kept – did everyone bring their own or something? Didn’t see any sellers. They would have made a bomb. Klaxons were simply amazing, sound and light wise. Other songs they played included ‘Totem’, ‘Golden Skans’, ‘Gravity’s Rainbow’, ‘Magick’, ‘Four Horsemen of 2012’ and of course their cover of ‘Not Over Yet’ (“This is one we wrote in 1992”) which sounded breathtaking. It was like one big party. Everyone was grinning. The combination of powerful stage lighting and glowsticks brought a warm fuzzy atmosphere.
No encore, but then the tour was designed to showcase bands and not Klaxons only, however fantastic they were. We spent the drive home passing through flashing roadworks and yelling ‘Atlantis To Interzone’ at them. Oh, what fun. Also we discuss how late 80s and early 90s music and fashion is returning. My friends suggests bringing back the bum bag and I recall mine was in shocking pink and yellow; perfect colours for new rave fans. This gig was immense and I have no qualms in saying it’s one of the best I’ve been to. Lively, cheerful, quality music and lots of sweaty dancing, which you just can’t beat.
http://www.nme.com
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+44, THE SOUNDS, THE MAPLE STATE
@ Southampton Guildhall, 9th February 2007
Friday night at Southampton Guildhall. It’s a complete sell out in here tonight, with hundreds getting excited at the prospect of highly tipped modern punk bands.
We arrive halfway through The Maple State, whose earsplitting vocals we heard a fair distance away from the Guildhall. The band’s attitude is ‘don’t mess’; which is backed up by a menacing bass and streetwise vocals. Their melodic power rock turned out to be the heaviest music of the night, with the band wallowing in the rhubarb and custard lighting that was powering out from the stage.
There’s time for a wander in between bands. We have little idea what to expect from the night as we’re unfamiliar with the groups, but a few minutes wandering around and eyeing up punky student fashions gave a clue what sort of music we are in for.
A brief bit of research later on explains that +44 is the brainchild of blink-182’s Travis Barker and Mark Hoppus, along with Transplants’ Craig Fairbaugh and The Nervous Return’s Shane Gallagher – the blink-182 connection would certainly explain the sell out.
Plenty of teens are sporting +44 t-shirts. There is a kid, a young lad no more than 16, who is lying on his side and crying his eyes out while hugging a bottle of water. Another couple in front of us are not wearing a single item of black clothing, which marks them out from the crowd.
A 1980s robot fart of a synth wakes us up and alerts us to the next band, The Sounds. “I’m scared,” whimpers my friend beneath a wave of feedback. The Sounds are from Sweden, and while it is all too easy to snigger and shout ‘Abba!’ at the stage, everyone desists and the band’s accents come across as endearing. But they ain’t no cutesy Scandinavians. Maja Ivarsson is a modern Debbie Harry with heartfelt shouts and a devil-may-care attitude. She brings poise and power to the stage. The Sounds are a fresh change from the Maple State, playing frenetic pop punk with large slices of glam cake and melodramatic keys weeping over the top. There’s a definite essence of The Killers (‘When You Were Good’) in the breeze, with a warm fuzzy zip of guitars and the vocals riding high atop the crest of the music. The set comes to a close with a stomping, sweaty drum duel, and everyone likes. ‘Painted By Numbers’ was a stand out track, as was ‘Queen of Apology’.
The pause between sets is filled in with some odd music choices – Whitesnake, Rainbow, Black Sabbath, then ‘Sweet Home Alabama’: songs which were popular a mere 10-20 years before much of the audience was born. We briefly wonder if it’s to keep the parents sane; there are a few crouched on the floor at the back keeping an eye on their offspring as they take their first curious steps into the wide world of the mosh pit.
The lights darken but the stage is lit again for the arrival of +44 – this time we look around to a sea of people with their mobile phones aloft, giving the band some sort of technological salute. There’s even a bit of plastic cup tossing. Not knowing anything about the bands, we had expected +44 to be British. Many Brits borrow names and music heavily from the US, but we’d forgotten they might be influenced by us in turn.
+44 play commercial pop punk mixed with pleasantly harmless rock and stirred with the brooding squalls of electric guitar. Why the crowd held devil hands aloft, I have no idea. It’s not heavy metal, far from it; more like metal’s scrawny nephew who is trying to play with the big boys. Singer Hoppus has a gravitationally impossible barnet, like he’s jumped from a great height and his locks have frozen in mid-air. Sadly we find his hair more fascinating than the music. +44 aren’t bad but they don’t seem to be anything different or special. Not having any of their tracks ourselves, we’re probably the ones missing out. Most of the Guildhall is singing along loudly to ‘When Your Heart Stops Beating’; but feeling slightly left out of the party, we make an early exit. There’s no denying +44 are good at what they do, it’s just it doesn’t particularly speak to us as individuals.
My friend spends the journey home shouting The Sounds’ lyrics ‘We don’t live in America / And we’re not sorry’ roughly to the tune of ‘Kids In America.’ It was a good evening although we felt strangely detached from the headliners. Judging from the crowd’s reaction to them, they were well worth the ticket price.
http://www.plusfortyfour.com
http://the-sounds.com
http://www.themaplestate.co.uk
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