I’ve never properly followed a band around the British Isles before. Even with the Arcade Fire I generally stuck to London with the odd excursion, but with Wolf Parade making their first appearance on these shores for three years I thought I might as well make the most of it. Plus, that motley group of weirdos from Us Kids Know have a tendency to WP fandom, so I knew I’d be in good company throughout.
The first date on the tour was at Manchester’s Ruby Lounge, by far the smallest of the three venues. Not a bad little place- not as good as Night and Day in the league of Mancunian gig locations (the stage is way too low) but it’s the perfect place to get up close and personal to a band. I’m From Barcelona had played there four days previously, as evidenced by the red confetti that periodically dislodged from various crevices around the stage- I would have totally loved to have seen them there! Support came from Scandinavians Dag for Dag, who impressed with their energetic Cold War Kids-esque bass-heavy indie rock (they also opened in London; Irish ‘acoustic metallers’ Give A Man A Kick did the duty in Dublin)- if they were playing somewhere cheap in London, I’d probably go and see them again.
(Photo: Spidey)
Then for the main attraction- and fuck me, they didn’t disappoint. They opened, as on the debut, with You Are A Runner And I Am My Father’s Son- a perfect choice, as it got the crowd on-side from the get-go. A slight fallow patch followed, with a few middling songs slowing the pace but then they played Dear Sons of Daughters of Hungry Ghosts. OH. MY. GOD. I’d been waiting so long to hear that song live, and it seems like everyone in the venue felt the same way because the audience went COMPLETELY FUCKING APESHIT. I mean seriously, I’ve not been in a hotter, sweatier mosh pit since I last saw Gogol Bordello. Dan Boecker, the skinniest man in indie-rock seemed completely taken aback by the reaction, LORD OF MEN Spencer just looked a bit bemused (although that’s just his way.) But it set the atmosphere that wouldn’t diminish for the rest of the gig. Sure, things generally calmed a bit down for the Mt. Zoomer material (except for a rollicking rendition of Language City) but there wasn’t a moment where someone wasn’t jumping around like a loon. Shine A Light was fun, This Heart’s On Fire caused mass vocal-chord damage to all present but it was the encore of I’ll Believe in Anything and a super-pumped version of Fancy Claps that heralded ultimate insanity. Even without electronics-manipulator Hadji (who’s left the band to finish his Ph.D), it all sounded as good as I could have hoped, and although the band aren’t the most communicative everyone was more than happy to let the music do the talking. Yup, it was pretty brilliant.
After a quick drink with the UKK crew and five hours sleep I headed to Manchester Airport for the next stage of my Krug stalkery. On route I bumped into Wolf Parade forumer AUV (Ulriika, she of the awesome Finnish/Glaswegian hybrid accent) so we ended up travelling to Dublin together and spent an hour or so exploring Temple Bar before I was collected by my Irish compatriots. Quite a gang had amassed in Dublin for the show- as well as the natives, five of us Brits came over and we also had envoys from Sweden (Joel) and the US of A (Jess) and we spent the day wandering around the capital and the seaside town of Bray before making our way to Vicars Street for another dose of Canadian goodness. Really liked the place- I wish our venues had chairs around the side so people in the stalls can have a sit-down if they wish, although being four times bigger than the Ruby Lounge it lacked in intimacy. Shame the audience wasn’t as good. I thought an Irish crowd on a Saturday would be totally up for it, but apart from the last two songs the only people going mental was the ‘absurdly enthusiastic’ (genuine blogger quote) weirdos at the front…*embarrassed cough* Same setlist as Manchester, and indeed London but no complaints there- they couldn’t have improved it much, and the encore triggered the absolute pandemonium so sorely lacking from the rest of the show.
(Photo: Ulriika)
Of course, the gig was just a small part of the Irish experience; I shan’t go into too much detail in order to spare the remaining shreds of dignity of all concerned but highlights included:
-Watching American Jess recklessly strutting and twirling around every lamp-post in Dublin whilst adamantly claiming she wasn’t drunk.
-Carrying Tom through the streets of Dublin whilst singing ‘Tunnels’
-Myriad attempts to formulate a workable harmonica choir rendition of ‘Wake Up’
-Toasts to DAVID FUCKING KITT
-Joel‘s constant refrain: “I HATE fucking Battles- BOOM BOOM BOOM”
-The bewildering sugar-to-nutrition ratio of American food-stuffs
-THE BEST PIZZA PARLOUR IN THE WORLD (complete with entirely random nightclub playing JOURNEY and BON JOVI)
(Photo: John Gleeson)
But yes, it was all great fun. And then I returned to London for Show Number 3. It couldn’t have been different to Spencer’s last gig in the big city with Sunset Rubdown- the atmosphere there was religiously reverential, as if we were witnessing some special, one-of-a-kind event. This time, it was essentially a repeat of the mental Manchester gig, but on a larger scale. Rarely have I seen a London crowd show such enthusiasm for a band- and with the performance even more formidable than previous nights (the Mt Zoomer stuff especially standing out) it was any measure the best show of the three. Shame there wasn’t any special treats thrown in (the following shows in Belgium got a Bob Dylan cover) but it was all so exhilarating I wasn’t overly fussed. An amazing three nights which more than justified expense of gallivanting around the country- let’s just hope they don’t leave another three years until the next tour…
No comments:
Post a Comment