“We’re all slaves on this ship, we’re all slaves on this ship, this ship’s sinking”

Tuesday 1st November 2011

Reading’s a funny old place. Too close to LDN to really have its own identity like, say, Southampton, but pretty much all the facilities you could hope to have. Jimmy Carr recently played at the Hexagon, so there you go.

Sub89 is a cracking small  venue. Daughter No. 1 (henceforth known as D#1 for brevity) gets asked for ID on entry, which pleases her immensely (“They think I look like I’m only 21”) until she realises its a 16-plus gig.

http://www.sub89.com/gallery/

600 capacity, but I reckon you could squeeze a few more in here at a pinch. Quite a big hall for a small venue, if that makes sense. Only half full on  Tuesday night.

Quick word about the support bands. I got there too late to hear Quiet Quiet Band but the tracks I listened to were really good so I will deffo be seeking them out in the future

http://www.facebook.com/pages/quiet-quiet-band/104858314903

I DO get to hear Chewing Gum Weekends, who straddle a number of styles, sometimes going from abrasive hard-assed white reggae to prog to fisting the air anthemic indie then back again to reggae. Tight as a post-credit crunch bank manager, they have the songs, notably “Go Hard Or Go Home”, which is a fine sentiment ! Give ‘em a couple of years.

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Chewing-Gum-Weekends/144341098965636

“Who are these people? They are too stupid to be your REAL parents”

The Young Knives are one of the bands that D#1 and I have in common. Tunes, scuzzy punky guitars and proper lyrics.  They look like young farmers but sound like a hardcore punk band.

They’re from Loughborough and they assure the Reading massive that “our town’s shitter than your town”. Having worked in Loughborough for a few months, I can confirm this. Its not quite shitter than Barnstaple though.

One of the characteristics of their songs is that I’m rarely 100% certain exactly what they’re alluding to … but what I do get is usually pretty dark, so maybe I’m better not knowing.

“And I will never go down fighting”

Last time I saw Young Knives they were headlining an NME show at the late, lamented Astoria in London, a victim of the Cross-Rail Network link that is being built for the Olympics. We also lost the best (indeed only) chippie in the West End, the legendary Dionysius, scene of so many post-gig munchies fests for so many people …

That show was fantastic. Seemed to mainly consist of school-age kids, which can sometimes mean a fairly static crowd, but this lot were there to mosh like demons. Found myself being used as a shock absorber in the mosh pit, which was fair enough I suppose given my girth. Saved a kid’s life in a mosh pit once, you know, but that’s a tale for another day.

“Fake rabbit, real snake, Terra Firma, Terra Firma”

This show is lower-key, being the last show in a long tour.

Young Knives play for an hour or so, including encores, which seems a little tight as they have three fine LPs to choose from.

They didn’t play Hot Summer – what a bummer. But we did get Terra Firma and She’s Attracted To and Loughborough Suicide and I Love My Name and Turn Tail, all of which were belted out by the small but enthusiastic crowd dahn the front. And after witnessing Bill Bailey doing Hallelujah in the style of Kraftwerk the other night, tonight we get Young Knives doing The Model in the style of … well, Young Knives.

Good show all in all. Another half hour would have been perfect, but you gotta love Young Knives

http://www.youngknives.com/

I once read that the legendary German electro-pioneers Kraftwerk work six days a week in the studio, and on the seventh day they listen to and play no music at all, of any kind. I’ve never understood this. I’m not knocking it since they seem to make some great music working that way, but …

I cannot imagine a day without music. Its what makes life worth living as far as I am concerned.

Music has been a major bonding factor between me and my friends, between me and my parents, between me and my wife, and between me and my kids.

I quite like music. You get the idea.

Live music in particular, whether its a band I know and love playing a big stadium gig, down to an intimate folky concert in a small bar, and all points inbetween.

I’ll happily go and see a gig in Camden featuring four bands I’ve never heard of – I always end up liking at least a couple of them.  This was what led me to Alphabeat, Ida Maria, Airborne Toxic Event, Grammatics … and many more.

I can’t honestly recall a completely wasted evening spent watching live music.

Even the terrible bands are interesting, for the wrong reasons. To this day all I have to do is say to my wife “Louder, louder, louder” and we both grin like idiots at the memory of the worst – and yes, the loudest – band we ever did see. I’m sorry if you’re reading this and you were in a band called The Electrics in the early 80s, but frankly you deserve it for the kicking you gave to “Nutbush City Limits”, a fine song which never did you any harm.

In short, a week without live music is a week wasted. And I realised earlier to my horror that this last week has been a wasteland, apart from the parodical musical stylings of Bill Bailey doing a rendition of what “Scarborough Fair” would sound like sung by Rammstein. Which was brilliant, of course, as was the rest of the show.

This is why I head into Barnstaple on a Sunday afternoon to watch a classic rawk covers band playing at Marshall’s pub. Ten Feet Tall, they’re called. Two oldish guys playing bass and drums (as opposed to drum and bass), an excellent young guitarist and a girl vocalist up front – a masterstroke when you need somebody to hit the high notes in “Highway To Hell” and “Run To The Hills” without losing any power.

Ten Feet Tall are way, way better than they need to be for a Sunday afternoon in Barnstaple, and more power to them.

The crowd are mainly in their 40s upwards, plus a few younger people intrigued at the packed house and the great sounds filtering into the street. In the break I have a quick walk round to check such action as there may be elsewhere – all the other town centre pubs have a maximum of ten paying clients and zero atmosphere. God bless the proprietor at Marshall’s, they always have music on a Sunday arvo and its always packed. Other pubs in rural market towns who wish to attract drinking customers, please note.

So, Barnstaple may only have one Sunday afternoon music venue, but its friendly, welcoming and the bands play songs people know. Twill suffice until I get back to Ver Smoke tomorrow …

… and over the next fortnight I intend to make up for the gig drought in a big way.  I’ve got Young Knives on Tuesday, Chairlift on Thursday, Her Name Is Calla on Friday, the Airborne Toxic Event on Saturday and Los Bloody Campesinos next Sunday afternoon. The week after its The Chap and a fantastic Welsh acid-folk band called Colorama who I have been dying to see for a couple of years now.

Can’t wait !

I’ll be blogging about all these things and more. Hope you enjoy reading it.

www.lemonrock.com/tenfeettall