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What’s Japanese for ‘shooting yourself in the foot’? or, how I learned to stop snoozing at gigs and love Gong

Here are the Meltdown reviews. They would have been online sooner, but the torpor I felt on Sunday evening as I left the RFH put paid to that. More on that in a bit.

Starting with Gong, I was expecting very little. Perhaps that is the best way to approach any gig. They surprised me a lot. Genuinely funny, they are happy to be playful and take the piss out of themselves. They were also very tight as a band. Admittedly, some of the tunes went on too long (some noodling, eight minute jazz flute wig-outs in the middle of songs) and they featured a small old lady (who looked a bit like Gretchen Franklin) warbling and squeaking, but I can forgive them that…mainly because of Daevid Allen. Admittedly I couldn’t make out a word he was singing, but his leaping and dancing about, costume changes and sheer joie de vivre were enough. He’s now in his 70s and to coin a Super Furries song title, the man don’t give a fuck. He was having a whale of a time, and he really wanted to make sure we all did too. I came away with a big old smile on my face. Entertaining.

Preceding Gong was a 40 minute warm-up of sorts by Graham Coxon, who I have to admit I used to have a bit of a crush on many moons ago when he was in his doomed alcoholic phase. He basically played a guitar sampler and lots of riffs across one another, which sounds OK but in fact was both perplexing and bad. I like difficult stuff now and then, don’t get me wrong, but this was just dire. I will give him some credit, though it pains me a bit to do so: he sang a lovely little song that was not unlike Syd Barrett (something to do with ‘road rainbows’ and ‘envelope soaked through’) which I thought was utterly charming. It was the only thing he added vocals to and he has a great voice, folky and whimsical. It stood out like a sore thumb and I just wished he had concentrated a bit more on that kind of thing.

I bumped into Mr Spear outside in the bar and told him about being subjected to Coxon's noodling, to which he said, 'oh bad luck'.

Sunday we were back at the South Bank to catch the Yellow Magic Orchestra. They were supported by a band called Pivot, who were a kind of clever-clever math rock/art rock band. When they said ‘our album is coming out on Warp later this year’ it all made sense. With hindsight I quite enjoyed it, but it left me very confused at the time.

So, YMO. I was really looking forward to this, which was my first mistake. After about ten minutes I started to wonder where the thrill was. Forty minutes in, I awoke with a start as the audience applauded a song. I like to feel many things at a gig, but asleep isn’t one of them. From there it got worse. I began to feel very bored and restless. The auditorium was hot. The front of house staff were aggressively pursuing the ‘no unauthorised photography’ agenda, which was another distraction I didn’t need.

They played two songs on the trot about the futility of war. One song would have been fine. It was like being whacked with a ‘war is bad’ placard.

Another thing that grated was an insistence not to play their more popular material. I can understand why they wouldn’t want to go down the ‘Space Invader’ and ‘Tighten Up’ route, but not playing ‘Firecracker’ is just daft. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to encore with that and leave the audience on a positive note. As JJ noted, ‘it would have been like shooting fish in a barrel’. As people were leaving the auditorium, some were wearing similar faces to ours – perplexed. Ever get the feeling you’ve been had?

In their defence – being stuck behind a synth isn’t exactly dynamic and you can’t do a dance/dress up as a gnome, etc.. However, they could have at least tried to engage. There was a barrier between the (very polite) audience and the band, which didn’t seem to be in evidence with Gong. I know it’s like comparing apples with toadstools, but nevertheless…YMO are clearly artistes. It’s art. That’s fine – I don’t mind that. But in comparison to Gong there was no fun. Art shouldn’t have to mean an absence of fun, should it? It should be able to entertain as well as providing food for thought. I don’t think it should send you to sleep.

My Bloody Valentine this week, then. Is it too much to ask for to expect a bit of art and a bit of fun, all mixed up together?

posted by deafdisco @ 8:14 am