Previously published on mINtSOUTH.com in January 2010
Words - Suzy Sims
(c) mINtSOUTH.com
SHED SEVEN + THE HOLLOWAYS @ PORTSMOUTH PYRAMIDS 17/12/2009
I’m showing my age now. In 1996 I was a young teen and an avid Top Of The Pops viewer, as were all my school pals. Back in the playground on the following day, you’d discuss the things you’d spotted, such as the Gallaghers swapping places on Roll With It and sticking their tongues out instead of miming, the cheeky scamps. We all witnessed Shed Seven’s appearance in sparkly suits to perform Going For Gold. I don’t remember if we discussed this – after all, it was just Shed Seven, and they weren’t the key movers and shakers. If you’d told me that I’d be seeing them live, 13 years in the future, I would have told you to jog on (or whatever the mid-Nineties equivalent dismissal was).
Shed Seven were on the whole, a thoroughly decent sounding, if slightly average, Britpop rock band. If you want to find their fans, try yelling ‘SHE LEFT ME ON FRIDAY!’ to see who correctly responds with ‘IT RUINED MY WEEKEND!’ “Yes, they’re still going,” I found myself answering to everyone, and was curious to see what the experience would be like.
Opening the night were The Holloways, the perfect example of what Shed Seven were like a decade ago. They are a cheerful band with uplifting music, who toured with the likes of the Pigeon Detectives. Highly tipped and great fun live, with little sweaty moshpits and cheerful fiddles and singalong choruses, they always leave you in a good mood.
Then something changed. Generator received a bit of Radio 1 play, and was subsequently re-released approximately 400 times. Then fiddle player Rob Skipper left. Now they’re opening for larger acts but instead of a fond fanbase waiting for them at the front of the Pyramids, they find a crowd of mature indie kids, arms crossed, waiting for the headliners. One man dances over to his friends, beer aloft, and the band regard him hungrily. They appear desperate for more people to be enjoying the show. “This is one you should recognise,” says red hatted singer Alfie Jackson as they start Generator and the crowd wakes up. I’m not sure if I‘m just imagining a bitter note in his voice.
The band open with Dancefloor, play Two Left Feet and a couple of newbies off recent album No Smoke, No Mirrors, but the crowd is quiet and the band try to rise above it but seem slightly disappointed in the reception.
Then we’re back in 1996 as Shed Seven stride out to bursts of light and cracking shots of noise. The crowd parts and men with curtains and sports jackets take prime positions in the audience.
Singer Rick Witter has turned into a wiry chap and is sharp witted and charismatic in a slightly waspish way. Some girls at the front start whooping and ask him to do a shout out to one of their friends. “This isn’t a fucking meet and greet. We’ll be here until midnight if I say hello to everyone...“ he responds, and spends a good portion of the night making lewd comments about someone else’s mother, who may or may not have been waiting in their tour bus.
I found myself recognising little snippets (‘It’s like I’ve never been born’ – On Standby, ‘Shame on you...’ - Dolphin) from songs which otherwise I would have been hard-pressed to recall. It’s amazing how little melodies suddenly bring back memories and whole lines of songs you used to sing to. Most of the crowd were in their early 30s; obviously 16-odd when the Shed were at their peak, now reliving the moments when they had few responsibilities and were about to step into the world as fresh-faced adults.
In bad moments it all gets a bit pub rock, sounding like Oasis b-sides when they weren’t really trying. However the songs are warm and familiar friends to most of the crowd, rocking along fuzzily with the odd psychedelic loop. The Heroes is a quirky epic, Getting Better and She Left Me On Friday still make you roar along, Disco Down sees a moshpit kicking off and a pint of what we all hoped was lager descending on our little group, but everyone is waiting for the sweet tune of Chasing Rainbows, a touching song that can still bring a tear to the eye, and is performed with some fantastic colourful lighting.
Shed Seven do (and did) get knocked for not being quite up there with the Britpop elite – Blur, Oasis, Pulp etc – but it’s evident they made an impact on their fans. Rick Witter shakes hands with a guy in the front row who has seen the band 25 times. And I bet he’s not the only fan who keeps coming back.
Shed Seven
The Holloways
Showing posts with label portsmouth pyramids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label portsmouth pyramids. Show all posts
Friday, 7 May 2010
Sunday, 17 February 2008
Gig Reviews - Jun 07 - The Cribs
Words - Suzy Sims
Previously published on Native.tv http://www.native.tv in June 2007
(c) Niche News & Publishing Ltd
The Cribs / The Thermals
@ Portsmouth Pyramids, 6th June 2007
The Cribs are a huge band. A recent gig in resulted in sheer chaos with bodies hurling themselves at the stage and the band refusing to play unless everyone sat down. Everyone goes absolutely nuts when they perform. They’re huge, and onstage it’s riotous.
All this is lost on us types who live out in the sticks Below London (B.L.). Round here, people have heard of The Cribs and are aware that they’re meant to be pretty good, but that’s about as far as it goes. There’s Ryan Jarman, comedy Northerner; Other Jarman (Gary), the comedy Northerner’s twin; and Yet Another Jarman (the twins’ younger brother Ross). Ryan claimed to have inspired Bob Geldof to create Live 8 (we’re sorry – it’s just a shameless excuse to link to this clip) and has a habit of injuring himself badly while drunk. That’s about as much as us B.L.s know – but there’s far more to them than that.
I arrived too late to hear Brighton’s Shrag, but I was informed by a friend that I “hadn’t missed much.” The Thermals had just begun their set as I threaded my way through the crowds. They played booming, echoing rock which had some nice class melodies underneath the earsplitting noise. It was the sort of sweaty rock which makes you perspire just thinking about it. Fast-paced, they were a good act and I was rather surprised when they greeted us in American accents, having assumed they would be Northern. “Where the hell do you wanna be...” they sing. Here will do nicely, thank you.
We then spent part of the set hunting for a friend who had unexpectedly run past at the speed of light – turned out she was round the corner harassing various Jarmans. She asked if I wanted my picture taken with Gary, and turned away in disgust when I admitted I wasn’t entirely sure which one he was.
Between The Thermals and The Cribs, we were serenaded – or not – with some sort of horrendous 1980s mix tape. It included the likes of Bros, Kylie and Boy George. Surely tough rockers The Cribs weren’t responsible for this cheesy Girls’ Night In mix – were they?
Then come the headliners. “You all right Portsmouth? I’m Ryan Jarman,” says the guitarist in his laidback drawl. The crowd screams. “We’re The Cribs from Wakefield.” And then everything roars into action, like a snarling tiger which has just woken from having a dart shot into its arse and has revenge in mind. The guitar is raw and pummelling, the drummer is standing precariously on his stool and the band have obvious talent, as well as a high percentage of alcohol in their bloodstream.
“It’s good to be back in Pompey,” says Ryan, and awaits the expected roar from the crowd. “We had an ice cream on the beach earlier. I had a cherry and coconut one.”
“You don’t get that in Wakey!” adds Gary.
Ryan starts telling us that it’s great the smart people from Portsmouth are all in the same room at once. Gary tells us that Ryan has been drinking, and he’d better hurry up and play a song or we’d be there all night. Ryan Jarman is definitely the star of the show, performing bum wiggle dances and daubing his face with neon paint thrown by a member of the crowd. He then pulls off his shirt and takes a flying leap into the crowd where security perform a rescue mission and he almost collapses on the floor. For a second we worry his ankle’s given way, but he manages to crawl back on stage. On his naked back, you can see the scars when he jumped onto a table of glasses at the NME Awards some time ago.
Songs tonight include ‘Martell’, ‘Things You Should Be Knowing’, ‘Our Bovine Public’, ‘Mirror Kisses’, ‘Hey Scenesters’, ‘Shoot The Poets’, and most recent single ‘Men’s Needs’. (see the video here). With three albums’ worth of material to choose from, there was plenty to play and a surprisingly high number of B.L.s were familiar with a lot of it. As I wasn't, sadly I have no idea which track was introduced as their next single – “Who’s going to buy it?” Cheers from the crowd. “Oh. About half of you.”
It was brilliant they’d managed to round up an audience who were up for a good time and the odd bit of crowdsurfing. Everyone sung the opening guitar riff to ‘Another Number’ and plenty of climactic feedback was provided by rubbing the guitar strings along the top of the amps.
There was no encore, but the band had been on stage for over an hour so can possibly be excused on that front.
The Cribs are excellent live, end of, and I was buzzing away like a bee, albeit one with temporary hearing loss from standing in front of mega speakers all night. I’d forgotten that Ryan Jarman is currently in the new indie royalty. Big names in the 90s were Noel, Liam, Damon, Justine, Jarvis etc. Nowadays it’s Brandon (Flowers), Kate (Jackson), Alex (Kapranos), Pete and Carl, and Ryan.
It’ll be interesting to see whether their latest album can help raise their profile further, but with live shows like this, a few more of us Southerners will be turning up to see them again.
The Cribs
The Thermals
Shrag
-----
02 Wireless Festival
@ Harewood House, Leeds, 15/16/17 June 07
Anyone care to join us in feeling a bit miffed that the London leg of the O2 Wireless has received all the media coverage, while Leeds has been a bit overlooked? Luckily we were there (well, someone had to be). Here's what we saw and did...
Friday June 15th
5.30am
Native is on the train in a sulk having had three hours sleep. That’s what happens when you choose to go to a festival the other side of the country, and we have only our idiot selves to blame.
10am
We’ve already changed trains once. Due to The Midlands being entirely underwater and there being jellyfish on the line (possibly), we’ve now got a bit of a lengthy detour. Time to grab the tent, hit a few people on the head with a backpack and join the replacement bus service queue…
3pm-ish
One bus from Birmingham to Derby, one train from Derby to Sheffield, one train from Sheffield to Leeds and one shuttle bus from the train station to Harewood House, and we’re there. Yeeeah! First thoughts: there don’t appear to be crowds, just dribs and drabs of people wandering. Where’s the campsite? And where are my wellies?
3.30pm
It’s raining. Native didn’t actually practise putting the tent up and is now looking puzzled–like at the peg things. Enter one Sellotape-clad man called Barry Scott, who sees our dilemma, hears our bribes of alcohol and offers to help. (Well he wasn’t really Barry Scott, but he kept announcing he was).
4pm
All comfy. Tent dry but muddied on the inside already. Whoops. Time to stand in the middle of the campsite and shout ‘WHERE ARE YOU BARRY SCOTT?’ A cry of ‘BANG!’ reveals his whereabouts, and we join him and his charming tent mate for a spot of beer and some sweets. Cheers guys.
It’s a nice little campsite, although the ground is a little sloped and waterlogged in places already. This is the second year that O2 Wireless has come to Leeds, but the first year for camping so we’re expecting there to be a few teething troubles. At the moment, it seems a small, relaxed and friendly place, and we’re quite enjoying the (damp) vibe.
6pm onwards
Some beer, cider and rum later, and Native is slightly tipsy. Time to join a friend in the main arena. We don’t really have the chance to look around, as we’re trying not to slip in heavy mud while keeping a firm grip on our alcohol. The Thrills are playing their charming Irish pop stuff while The Scare / Little Barrie / Polytechnic are in the exclusive O2 Blueroom. We can’t get in there, being on a different mobile network. Discrimination!
The rain fails to deter the Queens of the Stone Age from their decidedly heavy, booming set which fills the Main Stage. We're unfamiliar with a lot of their work, but 'Feel Good Hit Of The Summer' is sounding amazing. They’re followed by the ultimate in cool from the bluesy, punky, raw White Stripes, and everyone is mightily impressed. ‘Jolene’, ‘Icky Thump’, ‘Seven Nation Army’ and more are all given outings, and it’s a great way to kick off the event. It's always amazing how Meg and Jack, despite only having the two instruments on stage, manage to create such a fresh and powerful sound.
11pm
It’s still raining and our friend has hours to wait for his bus home, so we try and sneak him into the campsite, cheerfully waving his ‘Leeds Festival 2006’ wristband at security. They aren’t fooled, and loudly tell him to fuck off.
11.20pm
After walking round some corners, through some mud, across a field and through some more mud, we find a hole in the fence. Get in! Our friend spends a happy hour being force-fed rum and Cheerios before leaving to catch his bus.
Previously published on Native.tv http://www.native.tv in June 2007
(c) Niche News & Publishing Ltd
The Cribs / The Thermals
@ Portsmouth Pyramids, 6th June 2007
The Cribs are a huge band. A recent gig in resulted in sheer chaos with bodies hurling themselves at the stage and the band refusing to play unless everyone sat down. Everyone goes absolutely nuts when they perform. They’re huge, and onstage it’s riotous.
All this is lost on us types who live out in the sticks Below London (B.L.). Round here, people have heard of The Cribs and are aware that they’re meant to be pretty good, but that’s about as far as it goes. There’s Ryan Jarman, comedy Northerner; Other Jarman (Gary), the comedy Northerner’s twin; and Yet Another Jarman (the twins’ younger brother Ross). Ryan claimed to have inspired Bob Geldof to create Live 8 (we’re sorry – it’s just a shameless excuse to link to this clip) and has a habit of injuring himself badly while drunk. That’s about as much as us B.L.s know – but there’s far more to them than that.
I arrived too late to hear Brighton’s Shrag, but I was informed by a friend that I “hadn’t missed much.” The Thermals had just begun their set as I threaded my way through the crowds. They played booming, echoing rock which had some nice class melodies underneath the earsplitting noise. It was the sort of sweaty rock which makes you perspire just thinking about it. Fast-paced, they were a good act and I was rather surprised when they greeted us in American accents, having assumed they would be Northern. “Where the hell do you wanna be...” they sing. Here will do nicely, thank you.
We then spent part of the set hunting for a friend who had unexpectedly run past at the speed of light – turned out she was round the corner harassing various Jarmans. She asked if I wanted my picture taken with Gary, and turned away in disgust when I admitted I wasn’t entirely sure which one he was.
Between The Thermals and The Cribs, we were serenaded – or not – with some sort of horrendous 1980s mix tape. It included the likes of Bros, Kylie and Boy George. Surely tough rockers The Cribs weren’t responsible for this cheesy Girls’ Night In mix – were they?
Then come the headliners. “You all right Portsmouth? I’m Ryan Jarman,” says the guitarist in his laidback drawl. The crowd screams. “We’re The Cribs from Wakefield.” And then everything roars into action, like a snarling tiger which has just woken from having a dart shot into its arse and has revenge in mind. The guitar is raw and pummelling, the drummer is standing precariously on his stool and the band have obvious talent, as well as a high percentage of alcohol in their bloodstream.
“It’s good to be back in Pompey,” says Ryan, and awaits the expected roar from the crowd. “We had an ice cream on the beach earlier. I had a cherry and coconut one.”
“You don’t get that in Wakey!” adds Gary.
Ryan starts telling us that it’s great the smart people from Portsmouth are all in the same room at once. Gary tells us that Ryan has been drinking, and he’d better hurry up and play a song or we’d be there all night. Ryan Jarman is definitely the star of the show, performing bum wiggle dances and daubing his face with neon paint thrown by a member of the crowd. He then pulls off his shirt and takes a flying leap into the crowd where security perform a rescue mission and he almost collapses on the floor. For a second we worry his ankle’s given way, but he manages to crawl back on stage. On his naked back, you can see the scars when he jumped onto a table of glasses at the NME Awards some time ago.
Songs tonight include ‘Martell’, ‘Things You Should Be Knowing’, ‘Our Bovine Public’, ‘Mirror Kisses’, ‘Hey Scenesters’, ‘Shoot The Poets’, and most recent single ‘Men’s Needs’. (see the video here). With three albums’ worth of material to choose from, there was plenty to play and a surprisingly high number of B.L.s were familiar with a lot of it. As I wasn't, sadly I have no idea which track was introduced as their next single – “Who’s going to buy it?” Cheers from the crowd. “Oh. About half of you.”
It was brilliant they’d managed to round up an audience who were up for a good time and the odd bit of crowdsurfing. Everyone sung the opening guitar riff to ‘Another Number’ and plenty of climactic feedback was provided by rubbing the guitar strings along the top of the amps.
There was no encore, but the band had been on stage for over an hour so can possibly be excused on that front.
The Cribs are excellent live, end of, and I was buzzing away like a bee, albeit one with temporary hearing loss from standing in front of mega speakers all night. I’d forgotten that Ryan Jarman is currently in the new indie royalty. Big names in the 90s were Noel, Liam, Damon, Justine, Jarvis etc. Nowadays it’s Brandon (Flowers), Kate (Jackson), Alex (Kapranos), Pete and Carl, and Ryan.
It’ll be interesting to see whether their latest album can help raise their profile further, but with live shows like this, a few more of us Southerners will be turning up to see them again.
The Cribs
The Thermals
Shrag
-----
02 Wireless Festival
@ Harewood House, Leeds, 15/16/17 June 07
Anyone care to join us in feeling a bit miffed that the London leg of the O2 Wireless has received all the media coverage, while Leeds has been a bit overlooked? Luckily we were there (well, someone had to be). Here's what we saw and did...
Friday June 15th
5.30am
Native is on the train in a sulk having had three hours sleep. That’s what happens when you choose to go to a festival the other side of the country, and we have only our idiot selves to blame.
10am
We’ve already changed trains once. Due to The Midlands being entirely underwater and there being jellyfish on the line (possibly), we’ve now got a bit of a lengthy detour. Time to grab the tent, hit a few people on the head with a backpack and join the replacement bus service queue…
3pm-ish
One bus from Birmingham to Derby, one train from Derby to Sheffield, one train from Sheffield to Leeds and one shuttle bus from the train station to Harewood House, and we’re there. Yeeeah! First thoughts: there don’t appear to be crowds, just dribs and drabs of people wandering. Where’s the campsite? And where are my wellies?
3.30pm
It’s raining. Native didn’t actually practise putting the tent up and is now looking puzzled–like at the peg things. Enter one Sellotape-clad man called Barry Scott, who sees our dilemma, hears our bribes of alcohol and offers to help. (Well he wasn’t really Barry Scott, but he kept announcing he was).
4pm
All comfy. Tent dry but muddied on the inside already. Whoops. Time to stand in the middle of the campsite and shout ‘WHERE ARE YOU BARRY SCOTT?’ A cry of ‘BANG!’ reveals his whereabouts, and we join him and his charming tent mate for a spot of beer and some sweets. Cheers guys.
It’s a nice little campsite, although the ground is a little sloped and waterlogged in places already. This is the second year that O2 Wireless has come to Leeds, but the first year for camping so we’re expecting there to be a few teething troubles. At the moment, it seems a small, relaxed and friendly place, and we’re quite enjoying the (damp) vibe.
6pm onwards
Some beer, cider and rum later, and Native is slightly tipsy. Time to join a friend in the main arena. We don’t really have the chance to look around, as we’re trying not to slip in heavy mud while keeping a firm grip on our alcohol. The Thrills are playing their charming Irish pop stuff while The Scare / Little Barrie / Polytechnic are in the exclusive O2 Blueroom. We can’t get in there, being on a different mobile network. Discrimination!
The rain fails to deter the Queens of the Stone Age from their decidedly heavy, booming set which fills the Main Stage. We're unfamiliar with a lot of their work, but 'Feel Good Hit Of The Summer' is sounding amazing. They’re followed by the ultimate in cool from the bluesy, punky, raw White Stripes, and everyone is mightily impressed. ‘Jolene’, ‘Icky Thump’, ‘Seven Nation Army’ and more are all given outings, and it’s a great way to kick off the event. It's always amazing how Meg and Jack, despite only having the two instruments on stage, manage to create such a fresh and powerful sound.
11pm
It’s still raining and our friend has hours to wait for his bus home, so we try and sneak him into the campsite, cheerfully waving his ‘Leeds Festival 2006’ wristband at security. They aren’t fooled, and loudly tell him to fuck off.
11.20pm
After walking round some corners, through some mud, across a field and through some more mud, we find a hole in the fence. Get in! Our friend spends a happy hour being force-fed rum and Cheerios before leaving to catch his bus.
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