Words - Suzy Sims
Originally published on Native.tv http://www.native.tv in April 2007
(c) Niche News & Publishing Ltd
ALBERTA CROSS - BAND OF THE WEEK
Band Members
Petter Ericson Stakee - lead vocals, guitar
Terry Wolfers – bass, vocals
John Alexander Ericson – organ, keyboard, vocals
Sebastian Stone – drums
Looking slightly like Kings of Leon crossed with that nice man on the Quaker Oats packets, Alberta Cross have been feted by fancy music/style mag Clash and described in NME as ‘melancholic country folk… would have Neil Young in tears.’ Petter grew up travelling with his singer/songwriter father between Sweden and the UK, and met Terry in dubious smoky East End boozers. With their shared interest in music, the pair formed Alberta Cross, accompanied by Petter’s brother John and Sebastian. Catch them supporting the Earlies, Fields, Scott Matthews and Findlay Brown this spring
INFLUENCES
The Band, Van Morrison and Leonard Cohen; blues, soul and gospel
THEY SAY
“You do feel pressure to get a career started. That’s when your life is really going to begin”
- Terry Wolfers
”It’s a battle against weak verses and big choruses and we want to make classic albums, not albums with four singles and a bunch of fillers”
- Petter Ericson Stakee
WE SAY
Gentle folk rock with twanging yet soothing guitars and wounded, mildly Scandinavian vocals. Alt-rock with a bit of country thrown in. ‘Heart Breaks’ rolls along revelling in its sadness, while their album title track has a gin-soaked swagger about it
SAMPLE LYRICS
“Why do we always lose what we love?” – ‘Lucy Rider’
SIGNED
Black Lodge / Fiction Records. Mini album ‘The Thief & The Heartbreaker’ is released on April 2nd
DOWNLOAD
Your-friend-and-mine Zane Lowe recently played ‘Lucy Rider’ on his Radio 1 show. Get yourself a free acoustic MP3 of the track right here (it's a zipped folder containing the one track)
LINKS
MySpace
Fiction Records
Showing posts with label zane lowe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label zane lowe. Show all posts
Friday, 1 February 2008
Monday, 28 January 2008
Interview - The Twang
As a new website, we were always promised band interviews, only to turn up and discover it wasn't the whole lot, it was the drummer / stand-in guitarist / bassist's cousin. This wasn't always bad though - I managed to get two of The Twang - the least scary ones - the week they'd achieved the NME front page and they seemed like normal lads, whereas most of the media had been making the whole band out to be pisshead yobs who you'd cross the road to avoid. I was particularly pleased with Matty's comment at the end that he'd enjoyed the whole ordeal. Shame it was ruined by my crap editing, but nowadays I have learnt you don't actually have to include everything which is said...
Words - Suzy Sims
Previously published on Native.tv http://www.native.tv/ in April 2007
(c) Niche News & Publishing Ltd
JON WATKIN AND MATTY CLINTON - THE TWANG
THE TWANG Phil Etheridge, Martin Saunders, Stu Hartland, Jon Watkin, Matt Clinton
I’m slightly deafened. The building three doors along has its security alarm blasting out and I think it can be heard across the Channel. I’m sat at a modest wooden table at Southampton's Joiners Arms with Jon Watkin and Matt Clinton of The Twang, who both shake my hand with a polite “Hello Suzy” before pulling up a chair each and setting down their pints.
Phil Etheridge, Twang vocalist, once told the BBC: “There's not that many lad bands around so I can see that the media are going to want to blow that up.” He wasn’t wrong. Currently The Twang are being made out to be something like samurai sword brandishing, alcohol-addicted hooligans, banned from playing most of their hometown of Birmingham, who speak only in swear words and might possibly help themselves to your car if they feel like it. Oh, and they like the Happy Mondays and they wear hoodies. The bastards.
In fact Matt and Jon look remarkably human. As far as rock stars go, they seem pretty normal, and just a wee bit tired. They’re dressed casually in zip up tops and jeans. Drummer Matt’s leaning on the wall to prevent himself falling face-first into a sleep on the table.
Time to start with an easy question. What's on your dream rider?
“It’s usually bread, meat, salad, loads of beer, bottle of brandy, two bottles of wine,” says Jon, easygoing and chatty bassist, indicating the top of the bar which is covered in bowls of said food.
“It’s gone before we’ve even practically gone on stage,” says Matt. Is that you or your support bands nicking it?“We do a rider pretty much every night,” says Jon. “But it doesn’t go far. 20-24 bottles between like seven, but when there’s other people there it’s not much.”
“My dream rider’s a crate of Magners,” says Matt. The tour manager’s already brought him over a bottle which he’s pouring out. Just for you or the whole band? “Just for me,” he says with a chuckle.
“A crate of Magners? What else?” asks Jon.
“Clic.”
“Champagne. He’s getting a taste for champagne, innit. Dream rider… I don’t know. Nothing I can talk about!” they laugh again.
Tell me about ‘Wide Awake’, the big swaggering and shimmering tune which needs to be blasted out loud to get the full effect.
“Wide Awake? I’m fucking practically asleep!” says Matt. It went in at no. 15 in the UK singles chart the other week. How happy are you with that?
“Good,” says Jon.
“It was wicked,” says Matt.
“It’s kind of weird doing some of these things ‘cause it’s all new to us like," says Jon. "Never had a single out before. We saw it in the shops the other day and we were like, we talked about doing that, and the other day it happened. 15… it’s good isn’t it? I had a bet with my mate. He was convinced it was going to go to number one. He bet me fifty quid it would. So he owes me fifty quid.”
“He owes me a tenner as well ‘cause I had a bet with him,” says Matt. I want to meet this man. I think I could get some spare cash off him.
“Yeah it’s good man. For your debut single, it’s pretty decent just to get in the charts. I mean how many bands are out there? Just to get in the charts is an achievement,” says Jon.
Do you think you were helped by the BBC Sound of 2007 poll? You were number two.
“Was we?” asks Matt in surprise. Yes! “I didn’t even know.”
“He doesn’t know anything,” laughs Jon. “He goes home and I meet up with his sister and his brother and they tap me for all the information ‘cause he don’t know anything!” His phone’s ringing and he apologises. You can get it if you want Jon. He says they’ll ring back in a minute. “Yeah it did well, it’s going down well live innit?”
“Yeah, it goes down really well live,” confirms Matt. “Everyone’s heard it.” It’s been on Radio 1 a lot. Jon’s phone’s ringing again, so he leaps up to get it.
Previous jobs. What other ones have you had? Too many to list, by the sound of things.
“I’ve probably had about fifty jobs since I left school. I just get the sack from all of them,” says Matt. What do you keep doing? Or can you not say? He grins and taps the question card on the table. “Yeah, I can say. I just kept going out on the lash and not turning up the next day.” You can do that in this job, that’s all right. “That’s why I’m falling asleep today,” he admits.
“Do what?” says Jon, sitting back down.
“I had a job packing garden forks,” says Matt. “I lasted two days.”
“His mum’s got a lovely garden fork though. What was the question on that one?” We update Jon and ask if he’s had any good ones (jobs, not forks).
“Er… not really. I was a – I was pretending to be a painter and decorator. It’s the only trade you can do and pretend to know what you’re doing and earn half-decent money.” Probably better paid than fork packing. “Fork packing. Sausage packing.”
“I think I was on about £4.50 an hour as well or something for it,” grumbles Matt.
“You did them meals, you liked that job didn’t you. Packing frozen meals.”
“I liked that job. I just used to eat them.”
“Never had to pay for any lunch.”
“Packing meals on wheels. Packing food into boxes,” says Matt. “Apparently I was the quickest though so I’m happy with that.”
“You’re a drummer. He was packing it like that,” laughs Jon, giving a quick demonstration. “Drumming techniques. The last job I had I worked in a shop and it was great. Good lads, we got on well. I went back to see them the other day. It was mad going back to where you worked ‘cause they’re all asking you stuff. You’re living a different life now in a way. And not in a nasty way, but they’re still in there doing that life and I’m completely removed from that now. A lot of things are kind of surreal. You think sometimes ‘is it happening?’ It’s good, man.”
Jon reckons The Twang has been going for about five years now, with him, Matt and lead singer Phil Etheridge there right from the start. They were originally known as Neon Twang but the first word was dropped, allegedly because venues were put off by their riotous reputation. Backing singer Martin Saunders was invited to come along and join in practices.
“He loves his music so it was a natural thing. We said to all of our mates, if you wanna come…We’ve had mates down and they’ve tried to play keyboard and they’ve tried bits. Saunders just stuck at it. It’s hard to stick at it cause it’s hard graft sometimes, you’ve been at work all day and you wanna just chill out, you start watching EastEnders and you can’t, but (there’s something on the recording which sounds suspiciously like a burp, and it wasn’t me) he stuck at it,” explains Jon.
Then Stu Hartland moved into a shared house along with Jon, and luckily for The Twang he turned out to be “a shit-hot guitarist.”
“We got to know him for about six months wasn’t it, went out and had a few drinks with him,” remembers Matt. The shared house became Party Central, the place to be for a good time. “Whenever the pubs closed, just go back there."
“It was wicked, that house was. Dancing on the tables ‘til about 3 in the morning. And yes, he just joined then, Stu. I used to play guitar and Phil used to play bass and sing, then when I started playing bass more and more, like we were doing gigs where I’d play guitar, then for some songs I’d swap and play the bass, then gradually Stu came in…”
“You’re a better bass player aren’t you, than guitarist,” says Matt.
Jon breathes in slowly and deeply. “Yeah.”
“No you are though!”
“It’s easier innit? You only have to hold one string at a time. For a bit we had me and Stu playing the guitar and they’re totally different sounds. Like I’m a very thin sound and not much reverb or delay but Stu’s like massive, the sound. So it didn’t really work did it? There was a clash. So it was just natural really as the songs started coming we’d practise with me on the bass and I just carried on playing bass. I don’t know, it took ages!”
Birmingham. “That’s where we’re from,” says Jon.
“I thought it was,” says Matt. I’m sensing sarcasm. What’s the music scene like up there? There’s a lengthy pause.“Er…”
“Doesn’t seem brilliant does it,” says Matt after a while.
“Obviously we haven’t really been involved in it for a while now. Well not since just before Christmas really. Hopefully it’s going well. When we were a band [Jon realises what he just said, laughs and corrects himself] when we used to play the venues we didn’t get involved in the scene did we? We used to just practice.”
“Plus our lock up, it were just by ourselves in a snooker hall. We weren’t with other bands and that, so we didn’t really meet…” says Matt.
“It was like a lot of lads who we do know in bands, they’re all in like different bands every week, you know what I mean. They split up and it’s like the drummer goes to that band, and they’ve all been in each other’s bands. I’ve never been in any other bands. Matt’s done a few things like but not while you’ve been in the band have you?”
“When I was at college, shit like that,” confirms Matt.“So we’ve never really like, scene’s are like, I dunno. It’s all right.”
Any other good bands you can recommend from round the area?“The Priory,” they say instantly. “From Wolverhampton. I keep telling everyone. Once they get into them, they’ll love them,” says Jon.
“They’re amazing,” says Matt.“I’ve told NME about them, I’m like listen to them, once you’ll get into them you’ll love them. The Scarlet Harlots, they’re good lads.”
“They’re not doing anything else with themselves are they?” asks Matt.
“I don’t think so, no. Who else? Untitled Music Project.” I’ve heard of them, but don’t know their stuff.
“They’re good man, they’re interesting,” says Jon. “Bit wacky, in’t they? They do like songs backwards and 30 second songs. I quite like mad shit like that. It’s more interesting isn’t it, you know when they do stuff it’ll be fucking mad.”
As for festivals, The Twang are doing Leeds and Reading this year. They’re looking forward to it.
“Can’t wait,” says Matt. Do they usually go as punters? “I’ve only ever been to the V Festival a couple of times.”
“I’ve been to Leeds,” says Jon. “I went to Leeds for a day.” He coughs. Who was playing? “Oasis.”
“Happy Mondays?” suggests Matt.
“No, the Mondays weren’t there. Oasis were there, I can’t remember who else. We always go to V, it’s near us. We’re all lazy fuckers and we can’t be arsed to do anything. V was only just down the road and we’d all just jump in the van and drive down. Stafford isn’t it? It was only just outside of Wolverhampton. If it was too far we couldn’t have been arsed to drive.”
Matt’s not really paying attention. Instead he’s looking at the autographed posters high on the wall showing who’s performed at the Joiners before. “Kasabian have played here,” he blurts. He apologises and gets Jon’s attention. “Kasabian have played here,” he repeats with some surprise.
“Supporting as well,” notes Jon. “But yeah we’re looking forward to them, man. You can’t not look forward to playing Leeds and Reading.” I ask if they’ve got a weekend ticket as a band so they can hang around.
“I don’t know to be honest,” says Jon.
“Our tour manager’s saying we’ve got to go as soon as we’ve come offstage,” says Matt.
“Oh yeah,” says Jon, but he doesn’t sound entirely happy.
“We’ll just make our own way home,” says Matt. Hitchhike?
“We’ll probably just have passes or something, I don’t know,” muses Jon.
“Can’t walk off stage and just go home,” says Matt.
“You can’t, can you. You wouldn’t want to, even if you’re not playing, you don’t want to…”
“Unless we’re playing the next day,” Matt points out quite rightly.
“Well we will be playing the next day won’t we? We’ll be playing Reading or Leeds.” For one of them.
“It’s another thing that’s new to us, we’ve never played the festivals so we don’t even know what you’ve got to do and why.” The band aren’t happy that a few things they though were possible turned out to be very much not, such as flying back from a gig in Amsterdam. Instead they have a very long drive ahead.
“It’ll be shit driving back,” says Matt. “In Customs now apparently if you book a van and it’s got so many people on the van, if there aren’t that many people they want to know why. So we’ve all got to do about a 15 hour drive back from Amsterdam at 10 in the morning.” I wish them luck with that. “On Saturday!”
You’re doing Wireless as well aren’t you? “Wireless,” they confirm. “Editors are playing it,” says Jon.
“That Ibiza thing as well, what’s that…” says Matt. “I don’t know, I’ve just heard about it.” That’ll be cool. Bit of sun.
“Oh yeah man. Manumission or something?” I can’t remember who was there last year. It might have been the Automatic and Editors or something like that.
“Yeah I think they did. I know Editors did it. I think Happy Mondays did it as well one year. Probably did Ibiza, I mean…”
Which Twang would you least like to be stuck in a lift with?
“Him. Matty,” says Jon. “He’s disgusting. He smells.”
“I smell good,” complains Matt. Across the table, he looks quite clean and shaven, and I tell Jon I don’t believe it.“You know the saying don’t fart in a lift? He’s never heard it.” Matt starts laughing. “Probably Matty, yeah. The others aren’t here, they can’t defend themselves.”
“I’m just not going to bother because you’re probably right,” says Matt, putting his cider down on the table with a clunk.
“I could think of another thing but I’ll say Matty.”
“Cheers.”
“He does smell,” Jon says quietly.
The recent tour’s gone very well indeed. At the time of the interview, they only had a couple of dates left.“It’s gone quick but when you look back it seems ages ago,” says Jon remembering that day some six weeks ago when they were packing their suitcases to leave home… "First day like. It’s gone well man. I found the middle bit between like Scotland and coming back to England was a bit –“
“Oh I hated that,” says Matt. “I’m sick of packing my case as well.”
“I was talking the other day man about hotels. It is nice having a nice hotel but at the end of the day, it’s still a hotel isn’t it. But you can’t complain,” says Jon. At least you don’t have to sleep in your van. “I know yeah! You can’t complain.”
Matt can. “I just left my phone at the other hotel,” he says miserably.
“And we won that NME Award in the middle of it. We done the NME Awards, which was the maddest day of my life,” says Jon, offering little in the way of comfort to his phoneless mate. Presented by the Long Blondes, wasn’t it?
“Yeah. People have been telling me that he [Dorian] was trying to take the piss out of us when he was presenting,” says Jon.
“Yeah, you can tell,” says Matt. “I watched it back and you can tell.” Apparently they congratulated The Twang on being the best band from Birmingham since Ocean Colour Scene - although that's not necessarily an insult, depending on your taste in music.
“Cause they won it the year before. I think the band who won it the year before presents it. So you’ll be doing that next year,” Jon tells Matt.
“Maybe I’ll be presenting them with an award,” says Matt thoughtfully.
“You never know. But the tour’s gone well man. First tour, I’ve enjoyed it. It’s like you’re learning stuff as well. Roadies and that, man, they’ve all got like mad little tricks and their own little humour. They’ve all got their own little jokes.”
“Fucking mad,” Matt agrees.
“Our guitar tech’s a bit mad. Funny though. And they’re great, man. So yeah, it’s gone well.”
It’s been pretty much sold out all the way through, hasn’t it? “Yeeeeah…” says Matt.
“Every venue. It made me laugh. He doesn’t say it now, but when we started the tour Phil was like "This is a real surprise, man, that you’ve all come, it’s a real surprise that you’re here". I was like "It’s sold out." How is that a surprise! But I know what he meant though, he didn’t expect it to be like it has.”
“I’m looking forward to the next tour though,” says Matt. You’ve already sold out a few.
“The Astoria, man,” says Jon.“That’ll be a mad one.”
“Again they’re like ‘it’s amazing’ and I’m like [not bothered] ‘Have we?’ Not in that sort of way but…” I say it’ll hit them when they walk out on stage, see the size of the audience and think ‘oh, it really has sold out.’ They're not fazed. “We’ve played to them size crowds though, in't we,” says Jon.
“But not for us!” points out Matt. “Not for our crowd.”
“We done the Kaisers gig and that was same kind of…”
“That went well though, the Kaisers gig,” says Matt.
“Yeah. And the next tour will be mad won’t it.”
You’re back in Birmingham sometime then aren’t you? “Yeah, The Sanctuary.”
“Birmingham was a bit weird for me, the gig there. I was told that your homecoming gig, your first one would be strange.”
“Half the crowd were people who you know as well,” adds Matt.
“When we used to play there, no-one gave a shit, you know what I mean? Now we went back there and it was like, cause of the hype…”A lot of people trying to get on your guestlist? “Oh, it was a nightmare weren’t it man!” says Jon.
“I ended up just turning my phone off ‘cause it was doing my head in,” says Matt.“I was telling people I couldn’t sort it all day. ‘Cause everyone really in a way should be on it, and it’s like do you turn your sister down over your best mate? Our tour manager just said put down who you want on it and turn your phone off. Might do that next time.”
“That’s what I did in the end,” says Matt, voice of wisdom. “Have you got any cigarettes Jon?” he asks politely.
“No. But yeah man, it’s gone well.”
The Twang were two days off London Calling in Amsterdam. A bunch of wicked British bands take over the city, entertain the locals, bring along a bunch of excitable fans and generally have fun. They mentioned their road trip, but are they looking forward to the rest of it?
“Looking forward to it man,” nods Jon. “What’s that?” says Matt, not paying attention again. He looks at the card. “Oh!”
“It’s supposed to be a good venue. Everyone who’s been there has said how great the venue is so I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’ve never been to Amsterdam,” says Matt.
“We went last year, man,” says Jon. “I didn’t realise… if I’d have known, I wish…”
“We could have just said a couple of weeks ago.”
“Flying would have made it so much better man.” We’re back to the bus journey.
“40 minutes on a plane and 12 hours on a bus,” Matt reminds me. “Yeah. Just land at the airport, taxi it to the venue… oh, man. The journey there won’t be that bad.” Jon pauses. “I hope!”
You might be able to catch up on some sleep on it. Matt starts to speak – I think he’s suggesting drinking throughout the trip - but Jon interrupts.
“You can’t sleep on there man. There’s no ledges for your arms. They’re like slanted ledges so you put your arm on it – " he demonstrates.
“That’s why we’re looking forward to our next tour as well. We’ve actually got a tour bus so we can sleep on it instead of fucking sitting in a van for hours,” says Matt.
“I’m either going to try and sleep or just drink all the way home just to make it bearable.”
“Probably just drink all the way home, it’s the best way isn’t it,” recommends Matt.
Got any other bands you’re looking forward to seeing there?
“I don’t know who’s there to be honest,” says Jon.
“The Rakes are there, aren’t they,” says Matt. “No, I’m thinking of a different festival.” The only band I know offhand who’s going is the Pigeon Detectives.
“Oh are they there? Yeah man. I wanna see them.”
“The Long Blondes are there, aren’t they?” asks Matt.
“The Pigeon Detectives, I like their last single,” says Jon, then he forgets which one of us is the interviewer. “Do you like them? They're from Sheffield aren't they? [Leeds] Do you know what slot they’ve got? Do you know Harrisons as well?” I’ve heard of Harrisons, don’t know their stuff.
“They’ve supported us on a couple of dates,” says Matt.
“They’re signed, they are,” says Jon. “I think their album’s out soon. Yeah man, I’ll watch the Pigeons if we’re there. It’ll be mad won’t it, Amsterdam.”
“I don’t know anything about it, what time we’re on or anything,” says Matt. Strangely that admission doesn’t surprise me.
“We’ve got a few lads coming over as well,” says Jon. Going to do some sightseeing? “If you could call them sights! We probably will see a few ‘sights’!” he laughs.
“A few brothels. For me anyway.”
“With the red lights in them. No, we won’t. We ain’t got much time there to be honest,” says Jon. “We ain’t got much free time. We’ve got one night. And then in the morning man we’re on the van at ten as I’ve said about fucking four times.”
They’re really hung up on this van thing. “We’re just going to be drinking all the way home,” Matt says again.
The Twang recently did a session at Maida Vale for Zane Lowe’s radio show.
“I didn’t know we was doing it until about five minutes before we had to go up there,” says Matt.
“We were in Maida Vale and they did it as a link like,” says Jon. “He’s been really good to us, man. He’s a sound geezer, proper.”
“Wicked.”
“He’s been sound to us like. I listened to that show on the net the other day ‘cause I missed it and he gave us a right big up, man. I know I keep saying it, I used to keep walking to practice listening to Zane’s programme every night on me headphones. And to have him like even heard of you is mad, do you know what I mean. At first I wasn’t sure whether he liked us, ‘cause sometimes you have to say you like them when you really don’t.”
‘Cause there’s a lot of hype round The Twang at the moment. “Yeah,” says Matt.
“He’s a nice geezer anyway. I’ve only spoken to him a few times but he’s fucking sound. That Maida Vale was mad weren’t it.”
“Amazing,” says Matt.
“You’d never even know it was there,” says Jon. He asks if I’ve ever been. Sadly I haven’t.“It doesn’t look like anything from the outside,” explains Matt. “You go in there, the geezer, the sound engineer recording, he’s done Nirvana and all that. The Doors and people like that in the same room, and I’m thinking ‘fucking hell’.”
“The room they recorded in, they’ve done like the Smiths,” says Jon. “The Smiths were in there. Nirvana were in there. Jimi Hendrix has been in there. Led Zeppelin. The Beatles. And you’re stood in a room like –“
“-that’s where they recorded us.”
“And there’s that much history in one big mad building, it was like really good…” The support band’s cymbals are crashing in the background as they carry on setting up, but the half an hour's over so it's a good place to stop.
“I quite enjoyed that interview,” says Matt, which should probably be added to NME's Twang dictionary, meaning ‘Thank fuck that’s over. Now I can go and get some dinner.’ “I don’t normally say anything.”
Just one last thing – they’re NME cover stars this week, which must be the page 3 of the indie music world, but with slightly fewer tits (er, although that depends on your view of whoever's on there).
“Yeah I know. It’s mad,” they say.
“We all went and bought copies this morning,” says Jon, commenting on his ‘fat face on the front’.
“Shame your head’s behind Phil’s though,” says Matt.
“I’m not bothered,” shrugs Jon.
The gig at the Joiners tonight is sold out. Jon nicely offers to have a few words with their tour manager to try and get me in. They say if I’m along by myself, they’ll have a drink with me in the bar afterwards. That wasn't the behaviour I expected from a couple of 'hooligans'. Sadly, despite their best efforts ‘sold out’ means ‘sold out’, so it’s time for me to go home while they disappear across the road for a curry. I don’t want to ruin The Twang’s tough image and leave them open to a kicking, but they seemed like a normal bunch of guys thoroughly enjoying the rock and roll ride - wherever it may take them.
------
The Twang
MySpace
Words - Suzy Sims
Previously published on Native.tv http://www.native.tv/ in April 2007
(c) Niche News & Publishing Ltd
JON WATKIN AND MATTY CLINTON - THE TWANG
THE TWANG Phil Etheridge, Martin Saunders, Stu Hartland, Jon Watkin, Matt Clinton
I’m slightly deafened. The building three doors along has its security alarm blasting out and I think it can be heard across the Channel. I’m sat at a modest wooden table at Southampton's Joiners Arms with Jon Watkin and Matt Clinton of The Twang, who both shake my hand with a polite “Hello Suzy” before pulling up a chair each and setting down their pints.
Phil Etheridge, Twang vocalist, once told the BBC: “There's not that many lad bands around so I can see that the media are going to want to blow that up.” He wasn’t wrong. Currently The Twang are being made out to be something like samurai sword brandishing, alcohol-addicted hooligans, banned from playing most of their hometown of Birmingham, who speak only in swear words and might possibly help themselves to your car if they feel like it. Oh, and they like the Happy Mondays and they wear hoodies. The bastards.
In fact Matt and Jon look remarkably human. As far as rock stars go, they seem pretty normal, and just a wee bit tired. They’re dressed casually in zip up tops and jeans. Drummer Matt’s leaning on the wall to prevent himself falling face-first into a sleep on the table.
Time to start with an easy question. What's on your dream rider?
“It’s usually bread, meat, salad, loads of beer, bottle of brandy, two bottles of wine,” says Jon, easygoing and chatty bassist, indicating the top of the bar which is covered in bowls of said food.
“It’s gone before we’ve even practically gone on stage,” says Matt. Is that you or your support bands nicking it?“We do a rider pretty much every night,” says Jon. “But it doesn’t go far. 20-24 bottles between like seven, but when there’s other people there it’s not much.”
“My dream rider’s a crate of Magners,” says Matt. The tour manager’s already brought him over a bottle which he’s pouring out. Just for you or the whole band? “Just for me,” he says with a chuckle.
“A crate of Magners? What else?” asks Jon.
“Clic.”
“Champagne. He’s getting a taste for champagne, innit. Dream rider… I don’t know. Nothing I can talk about!” they laugh again.
Tell me about ‘Wide Awake’, the big swaggering and shimmering tune which needs to be blasted out loud to get the full effect.
“Wide Awake? I’m fucking practically asleep!” says Matt. It went in at no. 15 in the UK singles chart the other week. How happy are you with that?
“Good,” says Jon.
“It was wicked,” says Matt.
“It’s kind of weird doing some of these things ‘cause it’s all new to us like," says Jon. "Never had a single out before. We saw it in the shops the other day and we were like, we talked about doing that, and the other day it happened. 15… it’s good isn’t it? I had a bet with my mate. He was convinced it was going to go to number one. He bet me fifty quid it would. So he owes me fifty quid.”
“He owes me a tenner as well ‘cause I had a bet with him,” says Matt. I want to meet this man. I think I could get some spare cash off him.
“Yeah it’s good man. For your debut single, it’s pretty decent just to get in the charts. I mean how many bands are out there? Just to get in the charts is an achievement,” says Jon.
Do you think you were helped by the BBC Sound of 2007 poll? You were number two.
“Was we?” asks Matt in surprise. Yes! “I didn’t even know.”
“He doesn’t know anything,” laughs Jon. “He goes home and I meet up with his sister and his brother and they tap me for all the information ‘cause he don’t know anything!” His phone’s ringing and he apologises. You can get it if you want Jon. He says they’ll ring back in a minute. “Yeah it did well, it’s going down well live innit?”
“Yeah, it goes down really well live,” confirms Matt. “Everyone’s heard it.” It’s been on Radio 1 a lot. Jon’s phone’s ringing again, so he leaps up to get it.
Previous jobs. What other ones have you had? Too many to list, by the sound of things.
“I’ve probably had about fifty jobs since I left school. I just get the sack from all of them,” says Matt. What do you keep doing? Or can you not say? He grins and taps the question card on the table. “Yeah, I can say. I just kept going out on the lash and not turning up the next day.” You can do that in this job, that’s all right. “That’s why I’m falling asleep today,” he admits.
“Do what?” says Jon, sitting back down.
“I had a job packing garden forks,” says Matt. “I lasted two days.”
“His mum’s got a lovely garden fork though. What was the question on that one?” We update Jon and ask if he’s had any good ones (jobs, not forks).
“Er… not really. I was a – I was pretending to be a painter and decorator. It’s the only trade you can do and pretend to know what you’re doing and earn half-decent money.” Probably better paid than fork packing. “Fork packing. Sausage packing.”
“I think I was on about £4.50 an hour as well or something for it,” grumbles Matt.
“You did them meals, you liked that job didn’t you. Packing frozen meals.”
“I liked that job. I just used to eat them.”
“Never had to pay for any lunch.”
“Packing meals on wheels. Packing food into boxes,” says Matt. “Apparently I was the quickest though so I’m happy with that.”
“You’re a drummer. He was packing it like that,” laughs Jon, giving a quick demonstration. “Drumming techniques. The last job I had I worked in a shop and it was great. Good lads, we got on well. I went back to see them the other day. It was mad going back to where you worked ‘cause they’re all asking you stuff. You’re living a different life now in a way. And not in a nasty way, but they’re still in there doing that life and I’m completely removed from that now. A lot of things are kind of surreal. You think sometimes ‘is it happening?’ It’s good, man.”
Jon reckons The Twang has been going for about five years now, with him, Matt and lead singer Phil Etheridge there right from the start. They were originally known as Neon Twang but the first word was dropped, allegedly because venues were put off by their riotous reputation. Backing singer Martin Saunders was invited to come along and join in practices.
“He loves his music so it was a natural thing. We said to all of our mates, if you wanna come…We’ve had mates down and they’ve tried to play keyboard and they’ve tried bits. Saunders just stuck at it. It’s hard to stick at it cause it’s hard graft sometimes, you’ve been at work all day and you wanna just chill out, you start watching EastEnders and you can’t, but (there’s something on the recording which sounds suspiciously like a burp, and it wasn’t me) he stuck at it,” explains Jon.
Then Stu Hartland moved into a shared house along with Jon, and luckily for The Twang he turned out to be “a shit-hot guitarist.”
“We got to know him for about six months wasn’t it, went out and had a few drinks with him,” remembers Matt. The shared house became Party Central, the place to be for a good time. “Whenever the pubs closed, just go back there."
“It was wicked, that house was. Dancing on the tables ‘til about 3 in the morning. And yes, he just joined then, Stu. I used to play guitar and Phil used to play bass and sing, then when I started playing bass more and more, like we were doing gigs where I’d play guitar, then for some songs I’d swap and play the bass, then gradually Stu came in…”
“You’re a better bass player aren’t you, than guitarist,” says Matt.
Jon breathes in slowly and deeply. “Yeah.”
“No you are though!”
“It’s easier innit? You only have to hold one string at a time. For a bit we had me and Stu playing the guitar and they’re totally different sounds. Like I’m a very thin sound and not much reverb or delay but Stu’s like massive, the sound. So it didn’t really work did it? There was a clash. So it was just natural really as the songs started coming we’d practise with me on the bass and I just carried on playing bass. I don’t know, it took ages!”
Birmingham. “That’s where we’re from,” says Jon.
“I thought it was,” says Matt. I’m sensing sarcasm. What’s the music scene like up there? There’s a lengthy pause.“Er…”
“Doesn’t seem brilliant does it,” says Matt after a while.
“Obviously we haven’t really been involved in it for a while now. Well not since just before Christmas really. Hopefully it’s going well. When we were a band [Jon realises what he just said, laughs and corrects himself] when we used to play the venues we didn’t get involved in the scene did we? We used to just practice.”
“Plus our lock up, it were just by ourselves in a snooker hall. We weren’t with other bands and that, so we didn’t really meet…” says Matt.
“It was like a lot of lads who we do know in bands, they’re all in like different bands every week, you know what I mean. They split up and it’s like the drummer goes to that band, and they’ve all been in each other’s bands. I’ve never been in any other bands. Matt’s done a few things like but not while you’ve been in the band have you?”
“When I was at college, shit like that,” confirms Matt.“So we’ve never really like, scene’s are like, I dunno. It’s all right.”
Any other good bands you can recommend from round the area?“The Priory,” they say instantly. “From Wolverhampton. I keep telling everyone. Once they get into them, they’ll love them,” says Jon.
“They’re amazing,” says Matt.“I’ve told NME about them, I’m like listen to them, once you’ll get into them you’ll love them. The Scarlet Harlots, they’re good lads.”
“They’re not doing anything else with themselves are they?” asks Matt.
“I don’t think so, no. Who else? Untitled Music Project.” I’ve heard of them, but don’t know their stuff.
“They’re good man, they’re interesting,” says Jon. “Bit wacky, in’t they? They do like songs backwards and 30 second songs. I quite like mad shit like that. It’s more interesting isn’t it, you know when they do stuff it’ll be fucking mad.”
As for festivals, The Twang are doing Leeds and Reading this year. They’re looking forward to it.
“Can’t wait,” says Matt. Do they usually go as punters? “I’ve only ever been to the V Festival a couple of times.”
“I’ve been to Leeds,” says Jon. “I went to Leeds for a day.” He coughs. Who was playing? “Oasis.”
“Happy Mondays?” suggests Matt.
“No, the Mondays weren’t there. Oasis were there, I can’t remember who else. We always go to V, it’s near us. We’re all lazy fuckers and we can’t be arsed to do anything. V was only just down the road and we’d all just jump in the van and drive down. Stafford isn’t it? It was only just outside of Wolverhampton. If it was too far we couldn’t have been arsed to drive.”
Matt’s not really paying attention. Instead he’s looking at the autographed posters high on the wall showing who’s performed at the Joiners before. “Kasabian have played here,” he blurts. He apologises and gets Jon’s attention. “Kasabian have played here,” he repeats with some surprise.
“Supporting as well,” notes Jon. “But yeah we’re looking forward to them, man. You can’t not look forward to playing Leeds and Reading.” I ask if they’ve got a weekend ticket as a band so they can hang around.
“I don’t know to be honest,” says Jon.
“Our tour manager’s saying we’ve got to go as soon as we’ve come offstage,” says Matt.
“Oh yeah,” says Jon, but he doesn’t sound entirely happy.
“We’ll just make our own way home,” says Matt. Hitchhike?
“We’ll probably just have passes or something, I don’t know,” muses Jon.
“Can’t walk off stage and just go home,” says Matt.
“You can’t, can you. You wouldn’t want to, even if you’re not playing, you don’t want to…”
“Unless we’re playing the next day,” Matt points out quite rightly.
“Well we will be playing the next day won’t we? We’ll be playing Reading or Leeds.” For one of them.
“It’s another thing that’s new to us, we’ve never played the festivals so we don’t even know what you’ve got to do and why.” The band aren’t happy that a few things they though were possible turned out to be very much not, such as flying back from a gig in Amsterdam. Instead they have a very long drive ahead.
“It’ll be shit driving back,” says Matt. “In Customs now apparently if you book a van and it’s got so many people on the van, if there aren’t that many people they want to know why. So we’ve all got to do about a 15 hour drive back from Amsterdam at 10 in the morning.” I wish them luck with that. “On Saturday!”
You’re doing Wireless as well aren’t you? “Wireless,” they confirm. “Editors are playing it,” says Jon.
“That Ibiza thing as well, what’s that…” says Matt. “I don’t know, I’ve just heard about it.” That’ll be cool. Bit of sun.
“Oh yeah man. Manumission or something?” I can’t remember who was there last year. It might have been the Automatic and Editors or something like that.
“Yeah I think they did. I know Editors did it. I think Happy Mondays did it as well one year. Probably did Ibiza, I mean…”
Which Twang would you least like to be stuck in a lift with?
“Him. Matty,” says Jon. “He’s disgusting. He smells.”
“I smell good,” complains Matt. Across the table, he looks quite clean and shaven, and I tell Jon I don’t believe it.“You know the saying don’t fart in a lift? He’s never heard it.” Matt starts laughing. “Probably Matty, yeah. The others aren’t here, they can’t defend themselves.”
“I’m just not going to bother because you’re probably right,” says Matt, putting his cider down on the table with a clunk.
“I could think of another thing but I’ll say Matty.”
“Cheers.”
“He does smell,” Jon says quietly.
The recent tour’s gone very well indeed. At the time of the interview, they only had a couple of dates left.“It’s gone quick but when you look back it seems ages ago,” says Jon remembering that day some six weeks ago when they were packing their suitcases to leave home… "First day like. It’s gone well man. I found the middle bit between like Scotland and coming back to England was a bit –“
“Oh I hated that,” says Matt. “I’m sick of packing my case as well.”
“I was talking the other day man about hotels. It is nice having a nice hotel but at the end of the day, it’s still a hotel isn’t it. But you can’t complain,” says Jon. At least you don’t have to sleep in your van. “I know yeah! You can’t complain.”
Matt can. “I just left my phone at the other hotel,” he says miserably.
“And we won that NME Award in the middle of it. We done the NME Awards, which was the maddest day of my life,” says Jon, offering little in the way of comfort to his phoneless mate. Presented by the Long Blondes, wasn’t it?
“Yeah. People have been telling me that he [Dorian] was trying to take the piss out of us when he was presenting,” says Jon.
“Yeah, you can tell,” says Matt. “I watched it back and you can tell.” Apparently they congratulated The Twang on being the best band from Birmingham since Ocean Colour Scene - although that's not necessarily an insult, depending on your taste in music.
“Cause they won it the year before. I think the band who won it the year before presents it. So you’ll be doing that next year,” Jon tells Matt.
“Maybe I’ll be presenting them with an award,” says Matt thoughtfully.
“You never know. But the tour’s gone well man. First tour, I’ve enjoyed it. It’s like you’re learning stuff as well. Roadies and that, man, they’ve all got like mad little tricks and their own little humour. They’ve all got their own little jokes.”
“Fucking mad,” Matt agrees.
“Our guitar tech’s a bit mad. Funny though. And they’re great, man. So yeah, it’s gone well.”
It’s been pretty much sold out all the way through, hasn’t it? “Yeeeeah…” says Matt.
“Every venue. It made me laugh. He doesn’t say it now, but when we started the tour Phil was like "This is a real surprise, man, that you’ve all come, it’s a real surprise that you’re here". I was like "It’s sold out." How is that a surprise! But I know what he meant though, he didn’t expect it to be like it has.”
“I’m looking forward to the next tour though,” says Matt. You’ve already sold out a few.
“The Astoria, man,” says Jon.“That’ll be a mad one.”
“Again they’re like ‘it’s amazing’ and I’m like [not bothered] ‘Have we?’ Not in that sort of way but…” I say it’ll hit them when they walk out on stage, see the size of the audience and think ‘oh, it really has sold out.’ They're not fazed. “We’ve played to them size crowds though, in't we,” says Jon.
“But not for us!” points out Matt. “Not for our crowd.”
“We done the Kaisers gig and that was same kind of…”
“That went well though, the Kaisers gig,” says Matt.
“Yeah. And the next tour will be mad won’t it.”
You’re back in Birmingham sometime then aren’t you? “Yeah, The Sanctuary.”
“Birmingham was a bit weird for me, the gig there. I was told that your homecoming gig, your first one would be strange.”
“Half the crowd were people who you know as well,” adds Matt.
“When we used to play there, no-one gave a shit, you know what I mean? Now we went back there and it was like, cause of the hype…”A lot of people trying to get on your guestlist? “Oh, it was a nightmare weren’t it man!” says Jon.
“I ended up just turning my phone off ‘cause it was doing my head in,” says Matt.“I was telling people I couldn’t sort it all day. ‘Cause everyone really in a way should be on it, and it’s like do you turn your sister down over your best mate? Our tour manager just said put down who you want on it and turn your phone off. Might do that next time.”
“That’s what I did in the end,” says Matt, voice of wisdom. “Have you got any cigarettes Jon?” he asks politely.
“No. But yeah man, it’s gone well.”
The Twang were two days off London Calling in Amsterdam. A bunch of wicked British bands take over the city, entertain the locals, bring along a bunch of excitable fans and generally have fun. They mentioned their road trip, but are they looking forward to the rest of it?
“Looking forward to it man,” nods Jon. “What’s that?” says Matt, not paying attention again. He looks at the card. “Oh!”
“It’s supposed to be a good venue. Everyone who’s been there has said how great the venue is so I’m looking forward to it.”
“I’ve never been to Amsterdam,” says Matt.
“We went last year, man,” says Jon. “I didn’t realise… if I’d have known, I wish…”
“We could have just said a couple of weeks ago.”
“Flying would have made it so much better man.” We’re back to the bus journey.
“40 minutes on a plane and 12 hours on a bus,” Matt reminds me. “Yeah. Just land at the airport, taxi it to the venue… oh, man. The journey there won’t be that bad.” Jon pauses. “I hope!”
You might be able to catch up on some sleep on it. Matt starts to speak – I think he’s suggesting drinking throughout the trip - but Jon interrupts.
“You can’t sleep on there man. There’s no ledges for your arms. They’re like slanted ledges so you put your arm on it – " he demonstrates.
“That’s why we’re looking forward to our next tour as well. We’ve actually got a tour bus so we can sleep on it instead of fucking sitting in a van for hours,” says Matt.
“I’m either going to try and sleep or just drink all the way home just to make it bearable.”
“Probably just drink all the way home, it’s the best way isn’t it,” recommends Matt.
Got any other bands you’re looking forward to seeing there?
“I don’t know who’s there to be honest,” says Jon.
“The Rakes are there, aren’t they,” says Matt. “No, I’m thinking of a different festival.” The only band I know offhand who’s going is the Pigeon Detectives.
“Oh are they there? Yeah man. I wanna see them.”
“The Long Blondes are there, aren’t they?” asks Matt.
“The Pigeon Detectives, I like their last single,” says Jon, then he forgets which one of us is the interviewer. “Do you like them? They're from Sheffield aren't they? [Leeds] Do you know what slot they’ve got? Do you know Harrisons as well?” I’ve heard of Harrisons, don’t know their stuff.
“They’ve supported us on a couple of dates,” says Matt.
“They’re signed, they are,” says Jon. “I think their album’s out soon. Yeah man, I’ll watch the Pigeons if we’re there. It’ll be mad won’t it, Amsterdam.”
“I don’t know anything about it, what time we’re on or anything,” says Matt. Strangely that admission doesn’t surprise me.
“We’ve got a few lads coming over as well,” says Jon. Going to do some sightseeing? “If you could call them sights! We probably will see a few ‘sights’!” he laughs.
“A few brothels. For me anyway.”
“With the red lights in them. No, we won’t. We ain’t got much time there to be honest,” says Jon. “We ain’t got much free time. We’ve got one night. And then in the morning man we’re on the van at ten as I’ve said about fucking four times.”
They’re really hung up on this van thing. “We’re just going to be drinking all the way home,” Matt says again.
The Twang recently did a session at Maida Vale for Zane Lowe’s radio show.
“I didn’t know we was doing it until about five minutes before we had to go up there,” says Matt.
“We were in Maida Vale and they did it as a link like,” says Jon. “He’s been really good to us, man. He’s a sound geezer, proper.”
“Wicked.”
“He’s been sound to us like. I listened to that show on the net the other day ‘cause I missed it and he gave us a right big up, man. I know I keep saying it, I used to keep walking to practice listening to Zane’s programme every night on me headphones. And to have him like even heard of you is mad, do you know what I mean. At first I wasn’t sure whether he liked us, ‘cause sometimes you have to say you like them when you really don’t.”
‘Cause there’s a lot of hype round The Twang at the moment. “Yeah,” says Matt.
“He’s a nice geezer anyway. I’ve only spoken to him a few times but he’s fucking sound. That Maida Vale was mad weren’t it.”
“Amazing,” says Matt.
“You’d never even know it was there,” says Jon. He asks if I’ve ever been. Sadly I haven’t.“It doesn’t look like anything from the outside,” explains Matt. “You go in there, the geezer, the sound engineer recording, he’s done Nirvana and all that. The Doors and people like that in the same room, and I’m thinking ‘fucking hell’.”
“The room they recorded in, they’ve done like the Smiths,” says Jon. “The Smiths were in there. Nirvana were in there. Jimi Hendrix has been in there. Led Zeppelin. The Beatles. And you’re stood in a room like –“
“-that’s where they recorded us.”
“And there’s that much history in one big mad building, it was like really good…” The support band’s cymbals are crashing in the background as they carry on setting up, but the half an hour's over so it's a good place to stop.
“I quite enjoyed that interview,” says Matt, which should probably be added to NME's Twang dictionary, meaning ‘Thank fuck that’s over. Now I can go and get some dinner.’ “I don’t normally say anything.”
Just one last thing – they’re NME cover stars this week, which must be the page 3 of the indie music world, but with slightly fewer tits (er, although that depends on your view of whoever's on there).
“Yeah I know. It’s mad,” they say.
“We all went and bought copies this morning,” says Jon, commenting on his ‘fat face on the front’.
“Shame your head’s behind Phil’s though,” says Matt.
“I’m not bothered,” shrugs Jon.
The gig at the Joiners tonight is sold out. Jon nicely offers to have a few words with their tour manager to try and get me in. They say if I’m along by myself, they’ll have a drink with me in the bar afterwards. That wasn't the behaviour I expected from a couple of 'hooligans'. Sadly, despite their best efforts ‘sold out’ means ‘sold out’, so it’s time for me to go home while they disappear across the road for a curry. I don’t want to ruin The Twang’s tough image and leave them open to a kicking, but they seemed like a normal bunch of guys thoroughly enjoying the rock and roll ride - wherever it may take them.
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The Twang
MySpace
Sunday, 20 January 2008
Gig Reviews 2006 - The Zutons, Reading, Zane Lowe
More gig reviews from 2006, written to fill out the Native.tv website before it launched in early 2007.
Words - Suzy Sims
Previously published on Native.tv http://www.native.tv
(c) Niche News & Publishing Ltd
THE ZUTONS
Southampton Guildhall, 23rd May 2006
It’s another night in the city of culture
“I’m not feeling very well,” I told my friend after sneezing loudly. “I think I have ‘Zuton Fever.’ Ah ha ha ha.” He ignored me. That’s mates for you.
Last time I saw the Zutons, they had sold out the Wedgewood Rooms a few years ago. I was in the front row, alcopops clenched in hand, until I drunk too much, felt ill and sat at the back. Then when I got home, England were kicked out of whatever football tournament they were playing. Tonight’s gig would be a vast improvement. (Mainly because as the driver, I wasn’t going to be drinking. And because I wasn’t expecting any football matches, or for England to win if they were playing).
‘Tired of Hanging Around’ is the second album from the chirpy Liverpudlians. According to their website, they play ‘bluegrass rootsy stompy’ and who am I to argue with that description, although I would add ‘bouncy,’ ‘summery’ and ‘dry jazz’ to that. The band is very difficult to pigeonhole.
But the good thing is that everyone in Southampton loves them. Each song is greeted by a fresh wave of bouncing up and down. The only exception is super-thin saxophonist Abi, who is given a masculine roar whenever she moves.
The setlist tonight included all the best from debut album ‘Who Killed The Zutons?’ such as ‘You Will You Won’t’ (introduced as ‘You Shall You Shan’t’), ‘Havana Gang Brawl’, ‘Confusion’, ‘Don’t Ever Think’ and more, all greeted with a fresh of bouncing, singing and waving.
Our attention was distracted throughout by the girl in front, who was dancing (I use the term loosely) as if rapidly climbing a ladder despite being unable to bend her stiff arms. Then when she tired, she’d take a step back onto my foot and wait there awhile as she texted a friend.
But of course, the main part of the show was to promote ‘Tired Of Hanging Around’ and the people who had listened to that weren’t disappointed. ‘Valerie’ was greeted with a mass singalong, while ‘Why Don’t You Give Me Your Love’ was very popular.
The only low point was the lengthy instrumental near the end. Swirling purple lights and smoke combined with unusual, almost Far Eastern-sounding notes made my friend lean over and ask what on earth they were playing. It was entertaining, but didn’t seem particularly Zuton-y. But then again, the album needs a few listens before you start to thoroughly enjoy it; could be the same with this song.
“We might come from Liverpool, but this song’s about Southampton,” said singer/guitarist Dave at one point. And later: “You are definitely the best crowd we’ve had on this tour.” Aw shucks… bet you say that in every city Dave, but thanks v. much.
http://www.thezutons.com
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READING FESTIVAL - DAY ONE
The Subways / Fall Out Boy / Belle & Sebastian / Yeah Yeah Yeahs / Kaiser Chiefs / Franz Ferdinand
Somewhere in a field in Reading, 26th August 06
“How could you do it?” a man is yelling at me. “What have you done to him?”
“It wasn’t my fault! Honest!” I yelled back. Everyone knows Reading has a bit of a reputation for riots and violence, but I’ve been here an hour and I’ve been accused of murder. The man shook his fist and his girlfriend pretended to cry. “Tell no-one. You saw nothing,” I said. It’s Friday afternoon at the Carling Reading Festival, and I have just been accused of killing a Piglet balloon which is bobbing around my dusty feet, deflated-like, as I sit and eat potato wedges.
Due to a bit of sleepiness, I got on a late train and then got hopelessly lost trying to walk my way round the huge, disorientating site. How do you get in? Wristband exchange where? Maps are no good if you have no idea where you are on them, and it’s hard trying to navigate by burger van landmarks (which make some kind of Going For Gold riddle, like “Where am I? There’s a van to my left, three to my right and two in front…Come on, time’s running out.”).
Due to my laziness I’d managed to miss Mumm-Ra on the Carling Stage, but I was in time to stand behind a post and watch bits of the Pigeon Detectives. Once again there was quality rowdiness and crowd-surfing, then front man Matt Bowman was told off by security for climbing the speakers. It went a bit Pete Tong during ‘I’m Not Sorry’, but no-one minded because it was so much fun. And I lost my £7 programme after less than a minute of pogo-ing. New record!
After befriending some 15 year olds who were in need of smokes and potato wedges (little buggers) I made my way to the front of the main stage for the Subways. The sky was blue, the air was hot, blah blah blah, and I could feel a rosy bit of sunburn coming onto my face. The Subways looked very confident and not at all lost on the Main Stage. Charlotte ran to the front at the end and ended up being dragged away from the crowd by security, while Billy livened up the afternoon with some top-notch swearing.
Emo kings Fall Out Boy were next on (oh, the things I have to put myself through while waiting for the headliners). Found myself surrounded by hundreds of people who knew every single word to every single song, even the ones whose titles alone are too long to remember (‘Of All the Gin Joints In The World, I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me’ being just one) so pretended I knew what I was dancing to. They were certainly bouncy and kind enough to throw water at the crowd. Pete Wentz was annoyed someone had earlier knocked out Panic! At The Disco’s frontman with a carefully aimed bottle and so encouraged both halves of the crowd to lob plastic missiles at each other. One hit me on the back on the head. Damn friendly fire. It ended with ‘Dance Dance’, so everyone did.
It’s summer, so it must be time for Belle & Sebastian. This cult band brought a little bit of twee harmonising and delicate songs to a rough-and-ready rock crowd, but they went down very well, like a nice jug of Pimms (although half the crowd spent most of their set watching warily for that stupid purple inflatable cube to bash them on the head). Stuart Murdoch went into the crowd and got a lady to put make-up on him, then dragged another up on stage to dance. Poor Katie (for it was she) was very embarrassed so he asked her to ignore the crowd. “KATIE, KATIE, KATIE,” chanted several thousand audience members wickedly. The band opened with a few key songs from ‘The Life Pursuit’ (‘Sukie In The Graveyard’, ‘Blues Are Still Blue’, ‘White Collar Boy’) before revisiting parts of ‘Tigermilk’ and ‘The Boy With The Arab Strap.’ Their music perfectly suited the warm weather.
And now with the headliners approaching, some girls decided to push with all their might towards the stage. Bad luck – there were at least four rows in front of me, and they weren’t going anywhere. “We can’t go forward! There’s no fucking room!” boomed a few voices as security busied themselves by rescuing people out the front row.
Next were the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, although I had some difficulty seeing any of their set – even the big screens - as I spent most of it pressed against someone’s back while trying to give out my MySpace address to a charming young girl wearing the same t-shirt as me. Karen O was wearing an amazing, shiny green outfit, making her look a little like a magic dragon with a face mask and coloured tights. It certainly made the crowd look very dowdy. When she ducked around the stage and grinned with huge red lips, for a second she was the most brilliant, most terrifying woman in Reading. ‘Gold Lion’ is well received, as is ‘Y Control’.
A bit of a change around on stage, and it’s time for the Kaiser Chiefs. Right on cue, the heavens opened and the warm sweaty crowd was reduced to crazy haired, dripping savages. The band opened with ‘Na Na Na Na Naaa’, moving on through ‘Everyday I Love You Less And Less’ (with a big pause to bring on jeers while the band shouted ‘Come on, you can boo better than that!’) and plenty of others. ‘Modern Way’, ‘Take My Temperature’ and ‘Saturday Night’ follow, and I decided to step back slightly after falling backwards onto my arse in the crush. Death is not an option tonight – I’m meant to be going on holiday tomorrow. ‘Angry Mob’, ‘Heat Dies Down’ and ‘Everything Is Average Nowadays’ all got another UK outing. The people around me stopped jumping for a second to discuss the new songs – the consensus is that they are brill. It was still raining and not only could I not see though my glasses, I also got a crowdsurfer sprawled directly on my head. ‘I Predict A Riot’ thankfully didn’t incite any missile-throwing and ‘Oh My God’ left the audience too exhausted to sing along any more.
I escaped the front before Franz Ferdinand came on and went to examine the toilets and spend £4.50 on a Fanta and ice cream – at those prices, next year I’m bringing my own. Compared to some festivals (mixed Portaloos and open urinals at Download? Please no) these were luxurious toilet trailers. Well not so luxurious, seeing as the floor was wet, there was little loo roll left and no running tap water; but they even had mirrors and everything. Top.
Somehow managed to get to the front for Franz Ferdinand as the rain had made many people flee for shelter or to check if their tent was now at the bottom of a newly-formed lake. My new friend had been swept away in the Kaiser crush and was possibly dead (actually she wasn’t; she was watching Franz from the safety of some bloke’s shoulders). Franz all came on in matching black trousers and red shirts looking very smart. They hadn’t seemed particularly strong headliners to be honest, not compared to the showboat that is Muse, but I was impressed at how in control they were and the number of quality songs they had. ‘Take Me Out’ was launched quite early on, along with ‘Michael’, ‘Eleanor Put Your Boots Back On’, ‘Walk Away’, ‘The Fallen’, ‘Darts of Pleasure’ and ‘In The Dark Of The Matinee’.
A pause for breath and they returned with ‘Jacqueline’, ‘Outsiders’ and ‘This Fire’, during which brave guitarist Nick McCarthy ran to our corner of the barrier and was patted on the arm by damp, worn out fans. ‘Outsiders’ was a real stomper of a song, and again various band members and NME journos guested on drums as we all clapped along.
Right at the end I noticed the controversial second barrier. It appeared to be too far upfield to prevent everyone getting squashed at the front and just stuck out not doing very much apart from getting in the way when people were moving around between acts. How about not getting 80,000 people in a field; that might reduce crowd surges?
As it’s easy to forget, particularly if you’re camped in front of the Main Stage all day, there’s plenty of alternative entertainment. Just before midnight the Comedy and Cabaret tent saw various drunken people dressing as celebrities for some truly awful karaoke. There were also odd musical acts and the odd piece of burlesque. Being a lone girl, it seemed odd to be watching half naked female dancers and so it was time to trudge through the site to find the Cinema Tent (well, with no programme and no map, it was going to be impossible finding the Silent Disco. You can hardly listen out for it).
The site was cold. Everywhere was shut and there were plastic bottles on the floor. The Main Stage lights were flashing on and off forlornly as people picked their way through the junk and around the overflowing rubbish bags. From being completely packed, now there were only a handful of people shivering in the chill, waiting for trains like myself, trying to find food or taking a long hike to the toilets. The rain started spattering before completely pouring down in rivers beside the tents. It was a completely different site to the busy, dusty daytime only a few hours earlier. Huddling on the floor in the Cinema Tent, I found an abandoned programme by my feet. It looked a bit like someone had been dancing on it with hiking boots, but I pinched it. The day was complete.
http://www.readingfestival.com
-----
HOME TAPING TOUR
Zane Lowe (Radio 1) and Ricky Wilson (Kaiser Chiefs) @ South Parade Pier, Southsea 7th October 2006
The man I bought my ticket from was pretty excited about the Home Taping Tour landing in Southsea.
“Nothing like this ever happens in Portsmouth,” he’s busy telling a bespectacled man in front of me. “It’s amazing. Two Radio 1 DJs! Zane Lowe this weekend, and Mary Ann Hobbs soon as well. The awful Zane Lowe. Well, he plays brilliant music, but I hope to God they don’t give him the mic. His voice is so annoying.”
The man in front leaves, and I step up. “Can I have two tickets to see the awful Zane Lowe?” I ask nicely. He grins from behind the cash till. “Don’t tell him I said that,” he says. OK I say, making a mental note to type it up on the internet…
Radio 1’s evening show presenter Zane Lowe is a busy boy. Not only does he spend his evenings trusting in new music, but he also plays with Breaks Co-Op and heads off around the country to bring his unique music mixes to shedloads of fans. The Home Taping Tour was making a trip down to South Coast Central to entertain everyone on Portsmouth’s South Parade Pier.
The venue seemed a nice place, with carpeted floors leading to an enormous, dark and spacey room with a bar running the length of the far side, a dropped dance floor and a raised stage at the front, with a barrier to separate the DJs from the plebs.
The bar was already busy but most people were avoiding the dance floor (obviously needing a bit of liquid encouragement before getting on there). The DJs were playing a sort of commercial R’n’B mix so we decided to check out the smaller room at the back. This one was even darker, with the cloakroom hidden around the corner from the bar and a DJ cranking out Metallica and Fall Out Boy. A few of the dancers were armed with glowsticks and were having a good ol’ knees up on the tiny dance area.
Zane had managed to rope Kaiser Chiefs vocalist Ricky Wilson into accompanying him on the decks tonight. This was big news – the band themselves last played in Portsmouth in June 2004 and are usually glimpsed through the crowds at the summer festivals, so any band member who had managed to escape their recording sessions to pay us a visit would be warmly welcomed. Various other special guests have been joining Zane on this tour, including the Automatic, Boy Kill Boy, Bloc Party and Dan Greenpeace.
We sat huddled over our pretty expensive drinks until just before 11pm, when we’d been told Ricky was coming on stage. A quick stroll to the other room revealed a patchy dancefloor with some R’n’B vibes. Perhaps we were in the wrong room? Fifteen minutes later, me and my long-suffering friend bumped into a fellow Kaiser Chiefs fan who was also a bit confused. We decided there would be no way that Zane and Ricky would be crammed into the back room, so we drifted around the larger one, a bit lost and thoughtful, like beer-sodden clouds, until our New Found Friend said: “I think I just saw Ricky at the side of the stage!” Queue a rush to the front, where we danced next to the barrier as the crowd around us built up. The decks were covered in a camouflage material and there was a police siren on either side.
Just before midnight came the deafening call: ‘Home taping is not a crime. Home taping is not a crime.’ With that drilling into our heads and lights flashing all around, on walked Zane Lowe to shake hands with the crowd. We were flung against the barrier – forget clubbing, this was more of a gig atmosphere. Zane settled down, put his headphones on, raised his arms and immediately launched into some records.
Some Sugarhill Gang, Nirvana and a Klaxon later, I look around to see my friend had had enough of being pushed and squashed by girls. He’d nipped off to the bar, and the crowd was so tight he had no way of getting back through to us.
Meanwhile at the front, the white-shirted Zane is churning out tune after pounding tune and everyone is going crazy. We’re stuck on the barrier trying to bounce and throw shapes. He’s dancing intently, occasionally pausing to wave at people in the crowd. My New Found Friend next to me starts waving at the left side of the stage. I look up to see Ricky Wilson half hidden in the shadows, shyly smiling and waving back. I wave to get his attention, give him a thumbs-up and mouth “You all right?” He carries on smiling and returns the thumbs-up. “Good,” I say, and carry on dancing.
Ricky doesn’t actually appear on stage for some time – and when he does, he’s possibly under the influence of alcohol. A vacuum-wielding man with an ice bucket on his head slowly begins walking around the stage, picking up the CDs thrown at our man Zane. The disguise is quite poor, frankly; we can tell from the Elton John t-shirt and mischievous smile who is really under there. Eventually the bucket is lost and the pair spend the next half an hour DJing, robot dancing to ‘I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor’ and supping of wine and Jack Daniels.
A major surprise is when Zane sticks on ‘I Predict A Riot’ and hands Ricky the mic. I’m excited to be in the front for an unexpected concert, but a little saddened as well (I bet my mate twenty quid they wouldn’t play a Kaiser Chiefs song. Arse). Ricky does his best charging around the stage and trying to clamber in the crowd, which has suddenly surged right forwards. A man crowdsurfs over the barrier and is dragged off by security. Ricky tries to follow him, but the burly bouncers guide him back to the relative safety of the screaming crowd. The bucket goes back on the head, there’s a few peace signs, and Ricky leaves us in Zane’s charming company.
One of the biggest yells was reserved for Peel favourite ‘Teenage Kicks.’ It’s only a couple of weeks until John Peel Day, and we all want to respect the man. Next up were tracks by the Killers, Gnarls Barkley, Chemical Brothers, the Futureheads and Franz Ferdinand. There were far, far too many songs to remember the whole tracklisting, but others were Justice vs. Simian, the Fratellis and Kasabian.
Sadly I have to leave the front row. My friend’s been wandering around by himself for about an hour and a half and I think he might be getting slightly pissed off, so I disappear to find him, leaving New Found Friend to shake Zane’s hand a few more times and get a free t shirt. We manage to stand in the middle of the crowd to applaud Zane calling for musical tolerance – there are no genres, it doesn’t matter what you listen to, so long as it’s good and you enjoy it he says, and I’m tempted to agree.
My ears are ringing as we sit down on the beach for a rest before starting the next challenge; the hunt for a taxi. Zane is a top quality DJ and the tunes he was playing were amazing, whether you know them or not. I’m impressed. Let’s hope he decides to visit the South again in the near future.
http://www.home-taping.co.uk
Words - Suzy Sims
Previously published on Native.tv http://www.native.tv
(c) Niche News & Publishing Ltd
THE ZUTONS
Southampton Guildhall, 23rd May 2006
It’s another night in the city of culture
“I’m not feeling very well,” I told my friend after sneezing loudly. “I think I have ‘Zuton Fever.’ Ah ha ha ha.” He ignored me. That’s mates for you.
Last time I saw the Zutons, they had sold out the Wedgewood Rooms a few years ago. I was in the front row, alcopops clenched in hand, until I drunk too much, felt ill and sat at the back. Then when I got home, England were kicked out of whatever football tournament they were playing. Tonight’s gig would be a vast improvement. (Mainly because as the driver, I wasn’t going to be drinking. And because I wasn’t expecting any football matches, or for England to win if they were playing).
‘Tired of Hanging Around’ is the second album from the chirpy Liverpudlians. According to their website, they play ‘bluegrass rootsy stompy’ and who am I to argue with that description, although I would add ‘bouncy,’ ‘summery’ and ‘dry jazz’ to that. The band is very difficult to pigeonhole.
But the good thing is that everyone in Southampton loves them. Each song is greeted by a fresh wave of bouncing up and down. The only exception is super-thin saxophonist Abi, who is given a masculine roar whenever she moves.
The setlist tonight included all the best from debut album ‘Who Killed The Zutons?’ such as ‘You Will You Won’t’ (introduced as ‘You Shall You Shan’t’), ‘Havana Gang Brawl’, ‘Confusion’, ‘Don’t Ever Think’ and more, all greeted with a fresh of bouncing, singing and waving.
Our attention was distracted throughout by the girl in front, who was dancing (I use the term loosely) as if rapidly climbing a ladder despite being unable to bend her stiff arms. Then when she tired, she’d take a step back onto my foot and wait there awhile as she texted a friend.
But of course, the main part of the show was to promote ‘Tired Of Hanging Around’ and the people who had listened to that weren’t disappointed. ‘Valerie’ was greeted with a mass singalong, while ‘Why Don’t You Give Me Your Love’ was very popular.
The only low point was the lengthy instrumental near the end. Swirling purple lights and smoke combined with unusual, almost Far Eastern-sounding notes made my friend lean over and ask what on earth they were playing. It was entertaining, but didn’t seem particularly Zuton-y. But then again, the album needs a few listens before you start to thoroughly enjoy it; could be the same with this song.
“We might come from Liverpool, but this song’s about Southampton,” said singer/guitarist Dave at one point. And later: “You are definitely the best crowd we’ve had on this tour.” Aw shucks… bet you say that in every city Dave, but thanks v. much.
http://www.thezutons.com
-----
READING FESTIVAL - DAY ONE
The Subways / Fall Out Boy / Belle & Sebastian / Yeah Yeah Yeahs / Kaiser Chiefs / Franz Ferdinand
Somewhere in a field in Reading, 26th August 06
“How could you do it?” a man is yelling at me. “What have you done to him?”
“It wasn’t my fault! Honest!” I yelled back. Everyone knows Reading has a bit of a reputation for riots and violence, but I’ve been here an hour and I’ve been accused of murder. The man shook his fist and his girlfriend pretended to cry. “Tell no-one. You saw nothing,” I said. It’s Friday afternoon at the Carling Reading Festival, and I have just been accused of killing a Piglet balloon which is bobbing around my dusty feet, deflated-like, as I sit and eat potato wedges.
Due to a bit of sleepiness, I got on a late train and then got hopelessly lost trying to walk my way round the huge, disorientating site. How do you get in? Wristband exchange where? Maps are no good if you have no idea where you are on them, and it’s hard trying to navigate by burger van landmarks (which make some kind of Going For Gold riddle, like “Where am I? There’s a van to my left, three to my right and two in front…Come on, time’s running out.”).
Due to my laziness I’d managed to miss Mumm-Ra on the Carling Stage, but I was in time to stand behind a post and watch bits of the Pigeon Detectives. Once again there was quality rowdiness and crowd-surfing, then front man Matt Bowman was told off by security for climbing the speakers. It went a bit Pete Tong during ‘I’m Not Sorry’, but no-one minded because it was so much fun. And I lost my £7 programme after less than a minute of pogo-ing. New record!
After befriending some 15 year olds who were in need of smokes and potato wedges (little buggers) I made my way to the front of the main stage for the Subways. The sky was blue, the air was hot, blah blah blah, and I could feel a rosy bit of sunburn coming onto my face. The Subways looked very confident and not at all lost on the Main Stage. Charlotte ran to the front at the end and ended up being dragged away from the crowd by security, while Billy livened up the afternoon with some top-notch swearing.
Emo kings Fall Out Boy were next on (oh, the things I have to put myself through while waiting for the headliners). Found myself surrounded by hundreds of people who knew every single word to every single song, even the ones whose titles alone are too long to remember (‘Of All the Gin Joints In The World, I Slept With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me’ being just one) so pretended I knew what I was dancing to. They were certainly bouncy and kind enough to throw water at the crowd. Pete Wentz was annoyed someone had earlier knocked out Panic! At The Disco’s frontman with a carefully aimed bottle and so encouraged both halves of the crowd to lob plastic missiles at each other. One hit me on the back on the head. Damn friendly fire. It ended with ‘Dance Dance’, so everyone did.
It’s summer, so it must be time for Belle & Sebastian. This cult band brought a little bit of twee harmonising and delicate songs to a rough-and-ready rock crowd, but they went down very well, like a nice jug of Pimms (although half the crowd spent most of their set watching warily for that stupid purple inflatable cube to bash them on the head). Stuart Murdoch went into the crowd and got a lady to put make-up on him, then dragged another up on stage to dance. Poor Katie (for it was she) was very embarrassed so he asked her to ignore the crowd. “KATIE, KATIE, KATIE,” chanted several thousand audience members wickedly. The band opened with a few key songs from ‘The Life Pursuit’ (‘Sukie In The Graveyard’, ‘Blues Are Still Blue’, ‘White Collar Boy’) before revisiting parts of ‘Tigermilk’ and ‘The Boy With The Arab Strap.’ Their music perfectly suited the warm weather.
And now with the headliners approaching, some girls decided to push with all their might towards the stage. Bad luck – there were at least four rows in front of me, and they weren’t going anywhere. “We can’t go forward! There’s no fucking room!” boomed a few voices as security busied themselves by rescuing people out the front row.
Next were the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, although I had some difficulty seeing any of their set – even the big screens - as I spent most of it pressed against someone’s back while trying to give out my MySpace address to a charming young girl wearing the same t-shirt as me. Karen O was wearing an amazing, shiny green outfit, making her look a little like a magic dragon with a face mask and coloured tights. It certainly made the crowd look very dowdy. When she ducked around the stage and grinned with huge red lips, for a second she was the most brilliant, most terrifying woman in Reading. ‘Gold Lion’ is well received, as is ‘Y Control’.
A bit of a change around on stage, and it’s time for the Kaiser Chiefs. Right on cue, the heavens opened and the warm sweaty crowd was reduced to crazy haired, dripping savages. The band opened with ‘Na Na Na Na Naaa’, moving on through ‘Everyday I Love You Less And Less’ (with a big pause to bring on jeers while the band shouted ‘Come on, you can boo better than that!’) and plenty of others. ‘Modern Way’, ‘Take My Temperature’ and ‘Saturday Night’ follow, and I decided to step back slightly after falling backwards onto my arse in the crush. Death is not an option tonight – I’m meant to be going on holiday tomorrow. ‘Angry Mob’, ‘Heat Dies Down’ and ‘Everything Is Average Nowadays’ all got another UK outing. The people around me stopped jumping for a second to discuss the new songs – the consensus is that they are brill. It was still raining and not only could I not see though my glasses, I also got a crowdsurfer sprawled directly on my head. ‘I Predict A Riot’ thankfully didn’t incite any missile-throwing and ‘Oh My God’ left the audience too exhausted to sing along any more.
I escaped the front before Franz Ferdinand came on and went to examine the toilets and spend £4.50 on a Fanta and ice cream – at those prices, next year I’m bringing my own. Compared to some festivals (mixed Portaloos and open urinals at Download? Please no) these were luxurious toilet trailers. Well not so luxurious, seeing as the floor was wet, there was little loo roll left and no running tap water; but they even had mirrors and everything. Top.
Somehow managed to get to the front for Franz Ferdinand as the rain had made many people flee for shelter or to check if their tent was now at the bottom of a newly-formed lake. My new friend had been swept away in the Kaiser crush and was possibly dead (actually she wasn’t; she was watching Franz from the safety of some bloke’s shoulders). Franz all came on in matching black trousers and red shirts looking very smart. They hadn’t seemed particularly strong headliners to be honest, not compared to the showboat that is Muse, but I was impressed at how in control they were and the number of quality songs they had. ‘Take Me Out’ was launched quite early on, along with ‘Michael’, ‘Eleanor Put Your Boots Back On’, ‘Walk Away’, ‘The Fallen’, ‘Darts of Pleasure’ and ‘In The Dark Of The Matinee’.
A pause for breath and they returned with ‘Jacqueline’, ‘Outsiders’ and ‘This Fire’, during which brave guitarist Nick McCarthy ran to our corner of the barrier and was patted on the arm by damp, worn out fans. ‘Outsiders’ was a real stomper of a song, and again various band members and NME journos guested on drums as we all clapped along.
Right at the end I noticed the controversial second barrier. It appeared to be too far upfield to prevent everyone getting squashed at the front and just stuck out not doing very much apart from getting in the way when people were moving around between acts. How about not getting 80,000 people in a field; that might reduce crowd surges?
As it’s easy to forget, particularly if you’re camped in front of the Main Stage all day, there’s plenty of alternative entertainment. Just before midnight the Comedy and Cabaret tent saw various drunken people dressing as celebrities for some truly awful karaoke. There were also odd musical acts and the odd piece of burlesque. Being a lone girl, it seemed odd to be watching half naked female dancers and so it was time to trudge through the site to find the Cinema Tent (well, with no programme and no map, it was going to be impossible finding the Silent Disco. You can hardly listen out for it).
The site was cold. Everywhere was shut and there were plastic bottles on the floor. The Main Stage lights were flashing on and off forlornly as people picked their way through the junk and around the overflowing rubbish bags. From being completely packed, now there were only a handful of people shivering in the chill, waiting for trains like myself, trying to find food or taking a long hike to the toilets. The rain started spattering before completely pouring down in rivers beside the tents. It was a completely different site to the busy, dusty daytime only a few hours earlier. Huddling on the floor in the Cinema Tent, I found an abandoned programme by my feet. It looked a bit like someone had been dancing on it with hiking boots, but I pinched it. The day was complete.
http://www.readingfestival.com
-----
HOME TAPING TOUR
Zane Lowe (Radio 1) and Ricky Wilson (Kaiser Chiefs) @ South Parade Pier, Southsea 7th October 2006
The man I bought my ticket from was pretty excited about the Home Taping Tour landing in Southsea.
“Nothing like this ever happens in Portsmouth,” he’s busy telling a bespectacled man in front of me. “It’s amazing. Two Radio 1 DJs! Zane Lowe this weekend, and Mary Ann Hobbs soon as well. The awful Zane Lowe. Well, he plays brilliant music, but I hope to God they don’t give him the mic. His voice is so annoying.”
The man in front leaves, and I step up. “Can I have two tickets to see the awful Zane Lowe?” I ask nicely. He grins from behind the cash till. “Don’t tell him I said that,” he says. OK I say, making a mental note to type it up on the internet…
Radio 1’s evening show presenter Zane Lowe is a busy boy. Not only does he spend his evenings trusting in new music, but he also plays with Breaks Co-Op and heads off around the country to bring his unique music mixes to shedloads of fans. The Home Taping Tour was making a trip down to South Coast Central to entertain everyone on Portsmouth’s South Parade Pier.
The venue seemed a nice place, with carpeted floors leading to an enormous, dark and spacey room with a bar running the length of the far side, a dropped dance floor and a raised stage at the front, with a barrier to separate the DJs from the plebs.
The bar was already busy but most people were avoiding the dance floor (obviously needing a bit of liquid encouragement before getting on there). The DJs were playing a sort of commercial R’n’B mix so we decided to check out the smaller room at the back. This one was even darker, with the cloakroom hidden around the corner from the bar and a DJ cranking out Metallica and Fall Out Boy. A few of the dancers were armed with glowsticks and were having a good ol’ knees up on the tiny dance area.
Zane had managed to rope Kaiser Chiefs vocalist Ricky Wilson into accompanying him on the decks tonight. This was big news – the band themselves last played in Portsmouth in June 2004 and are usually glimpsed through the crowds at the summer festivals, so any band member who had managed to escape their recording sessions to pay us a visit would be warmly welcomed. Various other special guests have been joining Zane on this tour, including the Automatic, Boy Kill Boy, Bloc Party and Dan Greenpeace.
We sat huddled over our pretty expensive drinks until just before 11pm, when we’d been told Ricky was coming on stage. A quick stroll to the other room revealed a patchy dancefloor with some R’n’B vibes. Perhaps we were in the wrong room? Fifteen minutes later, me and my long-suffering friend bumped into a fellow Kaiser Chiefs fan who was also a bit confused. We decided there would be no way that Zane and Ricky would be crammed into the back room, so we drifted around the larger one, a bit lost and thoughtful, like beer-sodden clouds, until our New Found Friend said: “I think I just saw Ricky at the side of the stage!” Queue a rush to the front, where we danced next to the barrier as the crowd around us built up. The decks were covered in a camouflage material and there was a police siren on either side.
Just before midnight came the deafening call: ‘Home taping is not a crime. Home taping is not a crime.’ With that drilling into our heads and lights flashing all around, on walked Zane Lowe to shake hands with the crowd. We were flung against the barrier – forget clubbing, this was more of a gig atmosphere. Zane settled down, put his headphones on, raised his arms and immediately launched into some records.
Some Sugarhill Gang, Nirvana and a Klaxon later, I look around to see my friend had had enough of being pushed and squashed by girls. He’d nipped off to the bar, and the crowd was so tight he had no way of getting back through to us.
Meanwhile at the front, the white-shirted Zane is churning out tune after pounding tune and everyone is going crazy. We’re stuck on the barrier trying to bounce and throw shapes. He’s dancing intently, occasionally pausing to wave at people in the crowd. My New Found Friend next to me starts waving at the left side of the stage. I look up to see Ricky Wilson half hidden in the shadows, shyly smiling and waving back. I wave to get his attention, give him a thumbs-up and mouth “You all right?” He carries on smiling and returns the thumbs-up. “Good,” I say, and carry on dancing.
Ricky doesn’t actually appear on stage for some time – and when he does, he’s possibly under the influence of alcohol. A vacuum-wielding man with an ice bucket on his head slowly begins walking around the stage, picking up the CDs thrown at our man Zane. The disguise is quite poor, frankly; we can tell from the Elton John t-shirt and mischievous smile who is really under there. Eventually the bucket is lost and the pair spend the next half an hour DJing, robot dancing to ‘I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor’ and supping of wine and Jack Daniels.
A major surprise is when Zane sticks on ‘I Predict A Riot’ and hands Ricky the mic. I’m excited to be in the front for an unexpected concert, but a little saddened as well (I bet my mate twenty quid they wouldn’t play a Kaiser Chiefs song. Arse). Ricky does his best charging around the stage and trying to clamber in the crowd, which has suddenly surged right forwards. A man crowdsurfs over the barrier and is dragged off by security. Ricky tries to follow him, but the burly bouncers guide him back to the relative safety of the screaming crowd. The bucket goes back on the head, there’s a few peace signs, and Ricky leaves us in Zane’s charming company.
One of the biggest yells was reserved for Peel favourite ‘Teenage Kicks.’ It’s only a couple of weeks until John Peel Day, and we all want to respect the man. Next up were tracks by the Killers, Gnarls Barkley, Chemical Brothers, the Futureheads and Franz Ferdinand. There were far, far too many songs to remember the whole tracklisting, but others were Justice vs. Simian, the Fratellis and Kasabian.
Sadly I have to leave the front row. My friend’s been wandering around by himself for about an hour and a half and I think he might be getting slightly pissed off, so I disappear to find him, leaving New Found Friend to shake Zane’s hand a few more times and get a free t shirt. We manage to stand in the middle of the crowd to applaud Zane calling for musical tolerance – there are no genres, it doesn’t matter what you listen to, so long as it’s good and you enjoy it he says, and I’m tempted to agree.
My ears are ringing as we sit down on the beach for a rest before starting the next challenge; the hunt for a taxi. Zane is a top quality DJ and the tunes he was playing were amazing, whether you know them or not. I’m impressed. Let’s hope he decides to visit the South again in the near future.
http://www.home-taping.co.uk
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