Sometimes when you go to a gig and you know nothing of the support act and the support act sucks it's no great loss other than wondering why the main act selected them. But other times, those glorious and precious times, you catch the support act and it feels like you've struck gold, not always as polished as the main act but all the more satisfying for digging that bit deeper - or at least arrived when the doors opened. I was taken away by your music, simple and earnest. David's voice, so clear through that beard, what should have muffled actually filtered, Morgan's aching strings and Joan Baez vocal style plus Mike's classic dobro filled the magestic Paradiso's hall with a rustic stomp that bands with more plugs, pedals and pomp have failed to do.
After the show I'd hoped to congratulate you on a fine set. If only I had stopped at the merch desk mid-Low Anthem as I smuggled myself out for a quick piss. Alas, at the end of a spectacular set by your fellow Rhode Islanders it was their turn to meet and greet.
Nevertheless I bought The Devil Dancing on CD - I owed you that much - and added my name to your mailing list (about three quarts the way down on the first page). I popped the disc in my girlfriend's bag and went home to bed.
This morning I woke irrationally early so I hopped up and tackled a mountain of dishes and what better way to help me get through the slog than with some gentle morning music.
I sliced open the plastic seal of my new CD and opened the cardboard sleeve, fired up the computer and tried to pop out the disc from its casing. Like a reluctant virgin the disc wouldn't pop from its centre. It just bent, bowed with a creaking sound, before finally, snap! To quote Dylan, the Brown Bird disc 'breaks, just like a little girl.'
Was it my eagerness and heavy man-handling that broken the CD rather than easing it gently and wooing it from it's casing? Most probably.
Or was it in this day and age, as CD sales drop in the face of downloads, manufacturers cut corners and construction gets flimsy… I don't blame you Brown Bird, I blame the system.
Feeling jilted, I jumped straight online to find your torrent. Alas as a small act, your discovery by a prospecting punter is real gold* and the price of gold is high for its rare and exclusive qualities, not for its ubiquitous torrent. I did dig up a file called 'Brown Bird at the Nave' but the progress bar didn't move beyond infinity. And that's fools gold. Sadly I've lost my nugget of Brown Bird but I can say I discovered you before the inevitable gold rush. In the interim I'm not so much panning for gold, but washing the pans... in silence.
Kind regards,
Colin.
*I'm dropping the 'virgin' thing and reclaiming the gold analogy 'cos when you start talking about the price of virgins on the internet the FBI start knockin' – or so I've heard.
Tonight at the Paradiso there's two great shows. At 7.30 get along and see the brilliant twang of Low Anthem. These Rhode Island natives have just about made Amsterdam their second home with numerous shows and recording here. At 10 see Still Flyin' - a delightfully fun outfit from San Francisco I first saw at 2008's Sydney Laneway Festival (a festival we sadly missed this past Sunday when Liz and I had to fly back to Amsterdam - from all accounts, a brilliant day with great bands) where body boards helped the crowd surfers. Tonight's performance is now half price at the Last Minute Ticket Shop, so get buying.
Still Flyin', a San Francisco collective bring nothing but fun and good times to their shambolic shows with a revolving door of artists and honourary members. Depending on their location in the world you might find more people on stage than in the crowd.
Take your shoes off With sugary doses of indie-pop, the up-rocked skank of reggae plus the sunshine of Jimmy Buffet and the avant garde of Talking Heads, a genre they've dubbed Hamm Jamm, Still Flyin will hold themselves accountable if your dancing shoes wear out in one night. But then again, with a band website titled www.takeyourshoesoffyoudontneedtheminthesky.com, they've already suggested you remove them. Expect tunes like 'Lucky It's A Ghost Town Around Here' (see vid), 'Aerosmith Take Me To The Otherside' and 'Forever Dudes'
Flyin Facts They've played alongside the likes of Architecture in Helsinki finding a musical kinship with the oddball Melbournites, as well as Jens Lekman and Spiral Stairs who curated and hosted them at the 2008 Sled Island Festival in Calgary. Last year they released their debut album Never Gunna Touch The Ground after a succession of singles and EPs. Hamm Jamm, more fun for your feet than toe jam.
Last year I compiled a Christmas mixtape article for Time Out Amsterdam. Sadly we never actually made the mixtape - just the list. So I got on the old Sound Studio and made a shonky 33 minute podcast/mixtape thing full of great rock n roll and indie Xmas classics.
All killer no stocking filler Christmas 09: Slay Bells Not Reindeer by colinrdelaney Download it by clicking on the arrow below 'info'. Tracklist 1. Happy Christmas (The War Is Over) - Polyphonic Spree 2. Bizarre Christmas Incident - Ben Folds 3. Christmas Is Going To The Dogs - The Eels 4. Is This Christmas - The Wombats 5. I Wish It Was Christmas Today - Julian Casablancas 6. Merry Christmas (I Don't Want To Fight Tonight) - The Ramones 7. Christmas In Hollis - Run DMC 8. Christmas With The Devil - Spinal Tap 9. Fairytale In New York - The Pogues and Kirsty McCall 10. That Was The Worst Christmas Ever! - Sufjan Stevens
December has hit and for music journalists and bedroom critics alike we start thinking of top albums of the year. I began thinking about some favourites but before I could even form a list for 2009 I noticed the Guardian had put out its top 50 albums of the decade. I gave up at 30. Counting down (I pondered whether to number and I opted for decisiveness) here goes. Do feel free to leave me your list below.
30. Joe Strummer - Streetcore (2003): The final bow for Strummer hears his influences refined: reggae on 'Get Down Moses' and Marley's 'Redemption Song' while the fireside strums of 'Long Shadow' was actually written for Johnny Cash and 'Silver and Gold' a message to the youth not to take life for granted.
29. Dappled Cities Fly - Granddance (2006): A Grand dance indeed, the Sydney band's second record was a joyful, sweeping epic, full of harmonies, melodies and swooning arty guitar pop. Reminds me of good times.
28. Kev Carmody - Cannot Buy My Soul (2007): Granted CD 1 of the double album is his best of, but the covers by artists like Tex Perkins, Dan Sultan, Paul Kelly and Bernard Fanning on CD 2 hopefully opened younger listeners to the brilliance of one of Australia's finest songwriters.
27. Arctic Monkeys - Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not (2006): Punchy tales of the UK's boozy youth prickly with sarcasm and wacky wordplay, Alex and co were a breath of fresh air.
26. The Hold Steady - Separation Sunday (2005): Punching and poetic, Separation Sunday read like a Catholic sermon on a retalin come-down, a guilt trip about fallen suburban youth (Craig, Holly, Charlemagne and Gideon) and their hedonistic ways, all to the sound of New Jersey inspired punk-infused rock n roll.
25. Loretta Lynn - Van Lear Rose (2004): I doubt I'd have listened to this if Jack White weren't involved, but I'm thankful I did. It's full of busted-up, appalachian (not the no-hair disease) charm straight from the cliches of country music, which is what makes it so perfect - it's by one of the originators.
24. Gorillaz - Demon Days (2005): Those four crazy kids conjured up a sophomore record full of electro hip hop starring fantastic collabs with De La Soul, Shaun Ryder, Bootsy Brown and even Dennis Hopper.
23. Queens Of The Stone Age - Songs For the Deaf (2002): Desert rock driven on hard grooves, a shit load of fuzz, a cocktail of drugs Hommes' macho sleaze and Dave Grohl behind the kit.
22. LCD Soundsystem - Sound of Silver (2007): A great party record baring a relatively negative attitude Sound of Silver is dance music with angst. Real people shake the shit out of their week in a sweaty club, so why gloss it over. Fuck you feel-good Ibiza and fuck you Bob Sinclar.
21. Gomez - In Our Gun (2002): Mixing country, dub, rock and folk Gomez create enough catchy hooks and riffs here to toss them in and out where they please where other artists would've milk them dry, coupled with the three vocalists and you've got a record that keeps you on your ears, so to speak.
20. Cut Copy - In Ghost Colours (2008): Infectious indie-pop from Melbourne's trio who nod to new wave, cheesy house and noise-pop all the while making it a sound of their own ready for the dance floor.
19. Fever Ray - Self titled (2009): A brooding and oozing record that turns electronics into an organic undergrowth, rotting and dank Fever Ray is a slower, more sombre record for Karin Andersson, one part of brother-sister duo, The Knife.
18. TV On The Radio - Return to Cookie Mountain (2006): From the heralding horns of electronic elephants on opener 'I Was A Lover' to the fevered hi-speed hunt of 'Wolf Like Me' and slow chugg of 'Dirtywhirl' this record was class.
17. Dan Auerbach - Keep It Hid (2009): More dynamic than a Black Keys record, Auerbach's solo record Keep It Hid ironically allowed him to bring in more musos. Porch-front blues to Louisiana Voodoo and rolling CCR rock n roll, it gets me a bit closer to his record collection.
16. Postal Service - Give Up (2003): This lo-fi indie-dance record served as the thinking hipster's emo there for a while and remains one of the best records ever recorded for riding a city trains to.
15. The Dears - Gang Of Losers (2006): Bypassing 'Synthro', 'Ticket to Immortality' begins the album with an uplifting charm as the lyrics radiate a certain optimism. The optimism doesn't last long for this gang of losers though, with melancholic yet soulful indie tunes.
14. The National - Boxer (2007): Wandering tinges of rock, indie and country Boxer meanders through lush and spacious instrumentation that finds common ground between Interpol and the Boss, all under cryptic lyrics that even quote Napoleon Dynamite.
13. Calexico - Garden Ruins (2006): The Tex-Mex horns, the el mariachi guitar, Joey Burns' smooth front porch vocals and John Convertino's dusty brush strokes create a sound so geographically precise I can smell the tortillas toasting and taste the cerveca. I miss that country.
12. Wilco - Yankee Hotel Foxtrot (2002): Tweedy's writing is detailed, idiosyncratic charm, from opener 'I Am Trying To Break Your Heart' to the upbeat 'Heavy Metal Drummer' blending country twang with Steely Dan prog-pop and the melancholic closer 'Reservations' that looms out.
11. White Stripes - Elephant (2003):Opening with Jack's drop D (E maybe?) and Meg's thundering bass drum, the chunky repetition of 'Seven Nation Army' charged this album from the opener. Momentum kept it pushing on with 'Black Math' or 'Hardest Button To Button' with delicately interspersed sweetness from 'You've Got Her In Your Pocket' and 'Little Acorns'.
10. Outkast - Speakerboxx & The Love Below (2003): The double album let the ATL duo stretch their characters and while may have been catalyst for their drifting demise it stands alone as a stunning example of where hip hop can go.
09. MIA - Kala (2007): A banging second record blended electrified world music that punched from every favela and ghetto in the world of Sri Lanka, Africa, outback Australia, Brazil, England, and even Timbaland.
08. Kings of Leon - Because of the Times (2007): Stepping beyond their slack-jawed, spittoon drawl and cow-punk indie (by no means inferior), this layered southern opus let the lads build on their backbone and become a little bit CCR a little bit Pearl Jam.
07. Bloc Party - Silent Alarm (2005): Brit hedonism and 'modern love', Silent Alarm cut jagged shapes through the UK music scene and onto messy indie-club dancefloors so we could both moan and shake it.
06. Arcade Fire - Neon Bible (2007): Some will argue Funeral is better, but to me the Baroque pop meets Jersey shore rock of Neon Bible felt so much more rounded and bold.
05. The Strokes - Is This It (2001): With a touch of snotty slacker Holden Caufield this record re-invigorated indie New York cool at the turn of the century and led the rock revival - thank fuck.
04. Danger Mouse - The Grey Album (2004): An album of the times that optimised the concept of hip hop, Jay Z's Black Album vs The Beatles White Album. It took Brian Burton from the bedroom to Damon and Beck's house, and led the way for others to try it and fail miserably.
03. Kanye West - Late Registration (2005): An upbeat party album full of obvious samples and hollerback lines, it's only downside was that it's success led to the misguided ego of this once genuine genius.
02. Avalanches - Since I Left You (2000): Australian pastiche took elements of hip hop and vintage samples for a mix that would shit on any chill out album that came before or after. This might be controversial but on top of it's 'objective' brilliance, this has much sentimental value and that, friends, proves the noughties just got old.
01. Radiohead - In Rainbows (2007): From the off-kilter timing of '15 Step' and ethereal 'Weird Fishes' to the closure, the haunting 'Videotape' this downloadable pay-what-you-like album was far from a throw away record.
Synopsis in five: 1. That took a lot of about 3 weeks to finalise. 2. I listen to a lot of alt-country and tangents of. 3. Dance music didn't quite grab me as much as I thought. 4. I also listen to a lot of indie. 5. My twenties was soundtracked to some great fucking music.
Tonight the Melkweg's Oude Zaal is not sold out, not even the balcony is open - a surprise to myself and friends. After enough time to nurse a beer, get a good spot and wall of fuzz from the stage lasting as long as the 'Chicken v Peter Griffin fight', Sune Rose and Sharin of The Raveonettes take the stage and wash the crowd over with distorted white noise and harmonies they've become known for.
Their's is a package that has evolved from a restricted, highly self-aware duo aiming for purity in kitsch with their first two albums (recorded in B-minor and B-major), into a multi-faceted, unrestrained act on more recent records Lust Lust Lust and In And Out Of Control.
Sonically they're star-crossed lovers. A '60s Spector-pop chick coupled with the '50s rock n roller with Rebel Without A Cause disaffection nodding to '80s shoegaze ala Jesus & Mary Chain.
Sune Rose's loose guitar whines and chimes spaciously as the platinum Foo cuts a seductive visage through billows of smoke, the bass rumbles and the floor tom thunders - it's a very Lynchian affair on the slower, moodier songs. None more so than on song of the night 'Aly Walk With Me' (maybe it's just the title reminds me of Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me) from Lust Lust Lust, churning out a chugging and hypnotising rhythm until it explodes into wall of noise and the strobes refresh faster than Sonic the Hedgehog, threatening all that don't look away a possible fit. Elsewhere there's the punchy 'Break Up Girls' from fresh album of October,In And Out Of Control.
Electro-rock 'n' roll of 'Love in A Trashcan' from Pretty in Black kicks with surfy, hippy shake and the fuzzed-out twang on 'Dead Sound' from Lust Lust Lust echoes out.
I thought I'd dig up an old (and not so ground-breaking) interview from the archives of travel magazine TNT with Sharin from last year, while she was promoting Lust Lust Lust.
Sharin Foo is in a van on her way to Canada for “work, work, work”. You’d think she had a gruelling job by the tone in her voice but the stunning blonde Dane of The Raveonettes is on her way to Toronto and Montreal to play shows off the back of new record Lust Lust Lust, she’s passing the time watching Twin Peaks.
So who killed Laura Palmer? “It was her dad, but he was inhabited by an evil spirit,” she says.
The Raveonettes are kinda like the town of Twin Peaks, where clean and innocent 50s rock 'n' roll and 60s pop merges with the darker side of 80s shoegaze sinister. Previous records Whip It On, Chain Gang Of Love and Pretty in Black were influenced by Buddy Holly and The Ronettes with tales of teen rebellion. But on Lust Lust Lust the sinister rises to the surface. “Lust Lust Lust is probably our darkest album to date. It’s intimate yet noisy and intense.”
Pretty In Black was a homage to ‘50s and ‘60s artists and American, nostalgia. Did you have a theme for this album? No, not really. I think its theme is more personal, more reflection. I would say it’s a documentary rather than fiction. Even Pretty In Black wasn’t meant to be a homage to the past, it embraced technology which we always do. I guess our inspiration came from people who collaborated with us: Ronnie Spector, Maureen Tucker and Martin Rev (of Velvet Underground), so we were paying tribute to our inspiration.
Your first two albums were recorded entirely in B flat. You broadened your range on Pretty In Black. Do you feel Lust Lust Lust is even more open? It’s not a conscious decision to do something a specific way. I mean, not for this album, and it wasn’t for Pretty in Black either. I guess Whip It On and Chain Gang of Love had guidelines which were the one key, three chords, stuff like that. For this album there was no specific guidelines but there was a very minimal approach and that’s the very natural approach. That’s just the way it’s turned out.
You have moved from Denmark to the USA. What is it about living in America that fascinates you? There’s something fascinating about living in a country that is so big, when coming from Denmark. There’s a feeling of space and something spectacular which is unusual when you’re from a small country of five million people in Scandinavia.
You’ve been to Australia before. Did you get to experience the large landmass that is Australia? The only experience was flying for a long time to Perth, like flying across the US. We were working so hard we didn’t get to embrace the whole travel feeling.
Where was the first place you travelled to without your parents? I went to China, but with my grandparents when I was 12 years old. My grandfather is Chinese. We went to visit the family.
Any culture shock? I was still a little girl but I don’t know if I had any culture to get a culture shock. It was very chaotic, but I’ve been to China six or seven times now so I’m used to it.
How do you get a feel for a particular city when you’re travelling? It depends on what city it is. I like to be able to walk around and get a vibe. Ask people you meet and the people at the hotel where their favourite place to go is.
Sitting back in Sydney from Holland with some serious jetlag (thought I had dodged that) at 6:00am, I am excited by the prospect of surfing Ballina and Lennox over the next week. So to wait for the rest of the city to wake I figured I may as well finally post this article I wrote some time ago about the Den Haag surfing community. From: Huck Magazine
Expecting a 'you shoulda seen it yesterday,' on my arrival from Amsterdam, Hans is instead straightforward in true Dutch style. "On average we get three to four days of rideable surf per week".
Den Haag's surf beach Scheveningen looks like a lake. Picture perfect for spring tourists walking the promenade at the north end. Beach bars line the sand, carousels carry children and jumpers plunge from the long pier's bungy tower, making it feel decidedly like San Diego. At the south end, large fishing trawlers are given clear passage by on-guard lighthouses through the hard grey concrete groynes and on the horizon endless ocean liners await access to Rotterdam's harbour, it's the Industrial North Sea, alright. And this is where sandbanks and surfers collect.
With no swell to share a few waves, Hans and I swill a coffee in his mate, Henk's surf shop-come-café, Sublime. Hans, 30, has surfed Scheveningen since he was 12, travelling from inland Holland before moving here when he was of age, to now, raising a young family. He mainly rides longboards, the heavier the better for ploughing through common Dutch slop.
Dedicated to the development of surfing in the Netherlands, he's director of the Holland Surfing Association and pushing the local government for better lifesaver training. He also owns a surf school, not only for beginners but running grom and nose-riding master-classes as well. But when school's out or there's no swell, he hobbies away, rejuvenating old Vespas.
Above him, a mounted poster advertising a local clothing line/surf flick hangs. The main photo is of a set of huge right-handers peeling perfectly. I ask where it is. Possibly to protect it, Hans says it's gone. It was only temporary, caused by pumping sand to reinforce the ever-threatened Dutch coastline. A smaller image within that poster is of Hans. Another image is of a bloke missing an eye. Moments later, in walks that guy. He and his friend have just bought and driven two old VW campers, classic surfmobiles, from Denmark to fix them up. Outside groms clatter about on skateboards – seems every Dutch surfer needs a hobby during the long flat spells.
The following weekend, my third visit to Scheveningen and again Huey is mellow. Not to sound like a bumper sticker, but I'd rather be surfing. It is however a chance for a coffee with Henk.
Surfing for five years, he admits being a committed Dutch surfer means travelling. Two months after a friend introduced him to surfing, he was in Bali. "It's like eating stale bread and then being served a fresh loaf. When guys go away for a month they come back a different surfer."
Hans and about 350 others have taken the Nederlands Kampioenschap Surf Tour to Moliets, France for its second round. Those left behind fill the void of another waveless weekend by popping in for a coffee and a laugh.
In such disparate conditions it must be hard to stay motivated. He shrugs it off. "As a surfer, you always want to surf," then offers the alternative. "It could be worse, you could be a German surfer with no coastline," before flashing a grin of great satisfaction. He points to a picture hanging on the surf shop wall to reassure me they get waves. It's a nice little cover-up taken at De Zuid, Holland's best break. A perfect glassy A-frame with the rock wall in the background, it could be D'Bah on the Gold Coast. The biggest he's seen is smooth two-metre faces though it only happens about ten times a year.
Hans had told me earlier that the HSA and locals had to protest to save De Zuid from being banned as a surf spot after a swimmer died there recently. They Paddled from De Zuid via river and canal systems to march dripping wet, steamer-clad and board under arm into City Hall's foyer. It worked. He said "The national news covered our story. It was great, surfers in Holland are still so unique."
Back in Amsterdam without a wave to my name, visiting Scheveningen's webcam I'm surprised to see a score of riders chasing just-surfable chop. Chop this snobby Byron-bred surfer would pay no mind to. However Scheveningen's surf community seems bound by an enthusiasm that eclipses their waves, and a stoke that rides out the shit for those ten annual days of glassy A-frames. Between the wind chop and road trips, these are the ephemeral moments the locals live for – to down the tools of their hobbies and pick up the tools of a lifestyle.
This was my review of Blur's brilliant show at Hyde Park just over a month or so ago for Sydney's the Brag.
On a 24-hour stop over in London you could take in the Tate, ride the Eye and hope to the highlight is singing a Beatles song in Trafalgar Square for a mobile phone ad, That would be pretty British. Alternatively, you could time it perfectly and in one sunny London day drink Pimms at Wimbledon with Andy Murray in the semi-final before hitting Hyde Park to experience motherfucking Blur live with 60,000 other frothing revellers.
Tickets to Summer’s most hotly anticipated concert, acquired via a Facebook plea and purchased at retail price, boasted a mini festival line-up that included Deerhoof, Florence & the Machine, Amadou and Mariam and Vampire Weekend to boot – a line-up that felt like the many facets of Blur from the manic indie-guitar to moments of folk and Afro-beat. Missing Deerhoof and Florence and the Machine I arrive for Amadou and Mariam, grab two beers and work my way to 20 metres from the barrier. From Mali, the duo are backed by a band and dancers that blend afro-beat rhythms with more modern dance beats and salt of the earth soul with surf guitar. The couple, both blind are cool and subdued, so much so I can’t help but feel they’d be more lively if they could witness the 60 thousand pasty-white bodies burning in the sun, trying to get their African booty-shake on.
Vampire Weekend’s Graceland-inspired Afro-beat feels diluted in comparison but the frat boy infused indie-cool makes up for it. Beginning to get suitably drunk, the crowd relish in their rollicking sing-a-long. It’s a right knees-up, wailing ‘Blake’s Got A New Face’ in call and response, air-punching to ‘A-Punk’s’ ‘hey, hey hey heys!’ and no one in the crowd ‘gives a fuck about an Oxford comma’. A riotous bottle fight breaks out with green plastic-to-look-like-glass bottles pinball-bounce across the mosh, striking multiple skulls and splattering punters in stray Tuborg, but it’s all in good fun. ‘Let’s get rowdy!’ shouts singer Ezra Koenig as he feels the audience’s focus slip away. However it returns quickly to the band and they’re brilliant, even managing a few exciting new tracks to prove they aren’t one trick ponies. As speakers are stacked and mics set up anticipation grows and my dance space becomes cramped, everyone wants in.
Alex then Graham, Dave then Damon take the stage as a massive surge pushes me forward and a cheer rings out across ol’ London Town. They begin how it all did, with first single ‘She’s So High’. ‘Girls and Boys’ next heralds a chorus of confused lyrics. What was the order again, ‘Girls/Boys/Boys/Girls/Girls’? And as we all sing ‘Love in the 90s’ it’s no longer with live-in-the-moment sexual hedonism but rather nostalgia for our youth as we mosh out to regain a little bit of it. ‘There’s No Other Way’ is shouty fun too while ‘Beetlebum’ brings another, yet slower, chorus line. The Coxon-sung ‘Coffee and TV’ that shed light on his future solo direction, while also making an entire country’s youth re-think their hot beverage choice, remains the perfect slacker anthem.
Whether it’s a football chant or a Britpop chorus, England loves a good drunken choral session and while previous songs state it, it’s no more evident than midway through the night for ‘Tender’. To the warm glow of sunset it is the first moment I get a chill up my spine. It begins with Damon on acoustic guitar and builds to all of us, 60 thousand people strong singing ‘C’mon, C’mon, C’mon get through it, C’mon, C’mon, C’mon love’s the greatest thing’. The band drop away and watch their city take over before – we thrive on it. Joining us again, together we build it even higher than before, simple yet epic.
Having already played the night before here and the weekend prior at Glastonbury plus countless practice sessions, they are tight, consummate professionals while still letting loose. Damon is jumping all over the stage and leaning into the crowd, gold tooth grinning in the sun. Graham is lick-focused over his guitar, rocking out. Dave, now a lawyer is slightly more subdued as Alex looks out smiling over his cheese-makers’ gut.
Classic ‘Country House’ is wheeled out to the fans’ joy even though it had fallen off the band’s setlist by 2002 and to the band, an example that time heals wounds. A few songs later the band is joined by Phil Daniels, he of the raucous diatribe from ‘Parklife’. The crowd kick off before a note is struck. They know what’s coming. To experience a song so familiar to my generation in the park it was written about is amazing. As Damon told London’s Time Out, ‘You don’t get a chance to do that very often in life.’ We all pogo and throw our shit around, chanting like dickheads. There are obvious holes when they leave the stage at the end of the set with ‘This is a Low’. In these days of compulsory encores no one is fooled. The crowd fill the quiet by singing ‘Tender’ before the band come back out for ‘Popscene’, ‘Advert’ and of course the punk rock of ‘Song 2’, an obvious choice to end on for pseudo-fans but the die-hards know there is at least one or two more still. Again ‘Tender’ erupts over the warm evening air and the song will never be the same to me again. Damon returns and says a few touching words about the park, the city, the fact this show was the first they announced and it sold out in minutes, and about us. Their second and final encore comes with a message in ‘Death of a Party’, ‘For Tomorrow’ and the sentimentally wonderful ‘The Universal’ as we all sing good-bye, ‘If the days they seem to fall through you, well just let them go’.
Blur have given no hint if they will return with an album, just enjoying these days together. But as the crowd dissipates everyone is still singing ‘Tender’, out the Hyde Park gates, on the Underground, all the way to Liverpool Station and hoping for an album, ‘waiting for the feeling, waiting for that feeling to come’.
Stop, Drop, Rock n Roll is produced by a Canadian-born Australian living in Amsterdam. He is the Assistant Editor for iamsterdam.com and writes about music and stuff for Time Out Amsterdam, Amsterdam Weekly and Spin Earth amongst other various publications.
