tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61224661953613060182024-03-14T23:52:10.829+11:00Digging A Holeguestlisted.blogspot.com: for interviews, live reviews and other music matters.lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.comBlogger155125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-62835935266343124512016-05-30T17:24:00.000+10:002016-07-30T23:51:06.271+10:00My Name Is...?: When Prince Was Not Prince<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: orange;"><i><b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: orange;"><i><b>CHAMELEONIC </b></i></span></span>SHABOOGIE</b></i></span></span></div>
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In my previous post, I recalled the time Prince’s music first impacted my life and how much the allure of his humour and confidence helped shape my own character. I had shaken off more than a few childhood shackles to the strains of <i><b>Batdance</b></i>, <b><i>Party Man</i></b> and <b><i>Thieves In The Temple</i></b> et all, but what maintained my fascination with Prince, was the ease of his shape-shifting identity, which seemed equally as vital to him as music itself. In seamless succession, the neon-lit bohemian artist-in-nude-sans-gloves from <b><i>1999</i></b>, had apparently slipped out only to re-emerge a few years later as comic book icon <b>The Joker</b>, with total commitment to the transformation. Along the way, he gender-bended from cocky lady killer (<b>Christopher Tracy</b>) to clichéd gay archetypes and everything in between like a care-free child skipping along a stony path – always avoiding the cracks.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>Prince unveils <i>Gemini </i>in <i>Batdance</i></b></span></td></tr>
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Many Prince fans have a favourite era, or favourite Prince look. For me, the late '80s <i><b>Batman</b></i>-era was it. At this stage, he wore his hair long and appeared louche and brooding, even lowering his speaking voice. Still new to Prince’s world, I had yet to discover that he was in fact playing a character – his latest in a long line – who went by the name <b>Gemini</b>. Also the artist’s astrological sign, <b>Gemini </b>remains my favourite of Prince’s identities. Perhaps his most famous dalliance in role-play was <b>Camille</b>, who in 1987 was responsible for the portions of <b><i>Sign O’ The Times</i></b>. However <b>Camille </b>was seemingly abandoned in the wake of the planned-and-scrapped <b><i>Crystal Ball</i></b> album leaving fans guessing on what triple album of songs by Prince’s female alter-ego might have been.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b><i>'Camille' </i>in 1988</b></span></td></tr>
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While <b>Camille </b>saw Prince firmly embrace an ongoing dalliance with his feminine side, <b>Gemini </b>allowed his hairy-chested masculine self out to play. One of the strongest drawcards for Prince taking on the <b><i>Batman</i></b> project was how much he identified with the dark/light struggle within AND between the lead characters. He would never have been satisfied with simply recording a soundtrack to a film in which he did not have a part, and so Prince created roles for himself. <i><b>Gemini </b></i>appeared as an amalgam of <b>The Joker </b>and <b>Batman </b>in the promotional video for <b><i>Batdance</i></b>, while a black leather-clad Prince helmed an elaborate recording studio deck from which he appeared to urgently maintain control of his creation. Ultimately, <b>Gemini </b>opens fire on Prince before detonating an electric chair – symbolically destroying his guilt – as Prince brings the escalating madness to an end with an understated cry of “STOP!”.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB7U0eYqMYqlDHO-dvsZ6wAXxvphti3Sq2RqYR66HmqN3wXq-NUWHE-Ew8jd63Jj6Twj3-8ayLvBkcqMZesKxasMStirIYSzTixTGPGePt7A6RUFhP_NlHjpYhQ_5s6JkBuL6EZ7sC9lZS/s1600/prince+gemini+2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB7U0eYqMYqlDHO-dvsZ6wAXxvphti3Sq2RqYR66HmqN3wXq-NUWHE-Ew8jd63Jj6Twj3-8ayLvBkcqMZesKxasMStirIYSzTixTGPGePt7A6RUFhP_NlHjpYhQ_5s6JkBuL6EZ7sC9lZS/s200/prince+gemini+2.jpg" width="145" /></a>The timing of the <i><b>Batman </b></i>project along with Prince’s desire to compose and perform music under several guises went beyond mere experimentation. It’s widely known Prince could perform a multitude of tasks as band, bandleader, producer and writer, which certainly fed into his schizophrenic reinventions. But he saw himself with such rare clarity that frustration was inevitable when it came to the dealing with business of marketing, and by 1990 a decision to end business as he/we knew it was set in motion. That same year, Prince did the unthinkable and returned to a character from his past. In 1984, <b>The Kid</b> had served him well as the protagonist in <b><i>Purple Rain</i></b>, and was as far as Prince’s fans were concerned as close to the man himself as you could get. It was only upon his return in <b><i>Graffiti Bridge</i></b> that the sheer flimsiness of the character became clear. It was surprisingly difficult to warm to <b>The Kid </b>in his sophomoric years despite his very clear agenda of standing up to The Man.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>The sexually ambiguous Gemini in <i>Party Man</i> </b></span></td></tr>
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Regardless of the challenging aspects of Prince’s characterisations, audiences loved his many faces and happily went along on for the ride. His fragility in <b><i>Purple Rain</i></b> quadrupled Prince’s fan-base while his playfulness in merging <b>Camille </b>with <b>Gemini </b>in <b><i>Party Man</i></b> sparkled with mad genius. However a thoroughly confounding challenge for his devotees was to come at the start of the 1990s. Following 1986’s <i><b>Parade </b></i>and subsequent film, <b><i>Under The Cherry Moon</i></b>, the artist suffered a backlash from his black fans, proclaiming he had sold out to white audiences. As rap and R&B were began to take a strangle hold on the charts Prince, for the first time in his career, decided by 1991 to cut in on another’s wave. Pushing his new backing group <b>The New Power Generation</b> to the forefront, he cut <b><i>Diamonds and Pearls</i></b> as an indirect reaction to his black detractors, which only served to highlight a chink in his once flawless armor. Prince was no rapper and he knew it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_pFio4vId6Dlqp8RnhgRYaa4h7sG8p0GDx2mwbAMWNVLq-v7MTeoQ1Pw_jwZq4VUDQN8I_pFtca1K0boPXQib2z2TLLUJdkIGPDwAdc8oTiEOl67EYaQ-WCqBCAfBnY6OcaGLmuKSvae5/s200/Prince_Diamonds.jpg" width="200" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #073763;"><b><i><span style="background-color: #0c343d;"></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #073763;">D&P</span></span><span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"></span></i></b></span></td></tr>
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Saved by a solid portion of smooth R&B grooves, <b><i>Diamonds and Pearls</i></b> was let down by the NPG’s frequently awkward rap babbling and ultimately the project began to look a lot like a quest for attention at someone else’s birthday party. Always the pioneer, Prince suddenly seemed unrecognisable in spite of his former ‘masks’, and while his new identity seemed shaky, nobody could have predicted his next move. In what I’ve come to see as a stroke of unbridled genius, Prince was largely met with ridicule and confusion over his sudden announcement - via cryptic messages on 1992’s <b><i>Love Symbol </i></b>album, and less subtly on 1994’s <i><b>Come </b></i>– that Prince was dead and in his place <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</xml><![endif]--><b><span style="font-family: "prince"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">S</span></b> was born. Spirituality has always taken equal billing alongside sensuality in his music, thus initially in response to his reasons for changing his name to the glyph, Prince declared his pre-mortem reincarnation as an explanation.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><i><b><span style="font-family: "prince"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">S</span></b></i></span></td></tr>
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Prince spotters noted variations of his <b><span style="font-family: "prince"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">S</span></b> symbol had been present in his visual output from as far back as the early 1980s. Through his many incarnations it remained an inconsistent constant; an amalgamation of the common ‘gender glyphs’ which fitted nicely with Prince’s apparent gender duality. To adopt it his name was to render himself not only unpronounceable but also unreachable in the eyes of even many long-time fans. The decision left a palpable nasty taste in the mouths of journalists, who saw it as Prince’s attempt to baffle without good cause. Subsequently, he was demonised and even written off as a joke at a time when he was laying plans to regain his pioneering spirit. Perhaps if he had been more articulate in his given reasons, he would not have suffered such prejudice. In the grey world of business, Prince was a purple bolt of lightning which the creaky, inflexible establishment at Warner Bros. had little tolerance for, and as it turned out, a considerable chunk of his audience failed to warm to as well. As his battle for the rights to his back catalogue and complete artistic freedom are well worn stories by now, I find reactions to Prince’s decision the more fascinating angle to review.</div>
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In brief, he was under contract as Prince Rogers Nelson. As in most cases of record contracts, his signature ensured the label had a sizable say in various aspects of the money and creative sides to all operations. The pioneer in Prince, after growing frustration, hatched a never-before-known get-out plan which dragged the imbalanced power game of the music biz into the public eye long before reality talent shows did. Until now, his meanderings into alternate personalities/name changes had been seen as a side effect of his feverish creativity, but once the choice to rebrand himself as <b><span style="font-family: "prince"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">S</span></b> became known as a strictly business decision, the public were less forgiving. Under this name, Prince produced duelling bodies of work, which in fairness did nothing to endear him to his audience, as many saw him as losing his mojo; a result of his now very public battle with Warners. Still under contract, Prince went to war with his label offering them offcuts and half-baked albums to promote as he put out rival sets under his adopted – and therefore not contractually bound – name.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;"><b>Prince as Tora Tora</b></span></td></tr>
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The overabundance of Prince/<b><span style="font-family: "prince"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">S</span></b> albums, coupled with further mockery to Warners in the form of his disguised character <b>Tora Tora</b> - who briefly fronted a re-jigged NPG anonymously - caused an imbalance in the vein of quantity over quality. The perception was that Prince’s battle had embittered him as he took to writing the word <b>SLAVE </b>on his cheek and his interviews became increasingly abstract. Looking back at that time, it’s easy to write off Prince as behaving like a spoiled child, incapable of articulating himself to any degree. But I always saw an artist finally fighting the David and Goliath battle he had put off for years and dealing with his enemy using highly original tactics never before tried or tested in what is ultimately an extremely unfair business. It was a massive risk to do what he did and many would never view Prince the same way again. However after the dust settled, there was no doubt who the winner was in the end. Not only Prince himself - with his victoriously re-instated birth name – but also artists who had felt unfairly done by through dealing with the money minders.</div>
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For the first time, the old music business model began to look very unstable indeed as more and more artists sought smaller, independent labels to promote their work and retain sizable profits, while the Fat Cats were lumbered with fame-hungry lame duck artists, good for two or three hits before contracts were annulled and tours were cancelled due to lack of interest. Attitudes towards Prince’s perplexing rebellion have softened over time, as more and more musicians stand up to take issue over intellectual property ownership. Perhaps in time his overall least popular period will be heralded as Prince’s greatest legacy. </div>
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<b>lEIGh5</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjek6Zsmv32XqJmNanf9b5YYWxFNP9jwYuVuyA0RIbi9ABPnJ8esVnEkMb0z7zAPq-yIBe9_Zmaigp6poSBAfRTxWyP8YSvm4jN4Q1h6ret5J1tAfTh-f4SWyw9923TIfZVsEPXou9O-KqB/s1600/prince+-+slave.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjek6Zsmv32XqJmNanf9b5YYWxFNP9jwYuVuyA0RIbi9ABPnJ8esVnEkMb0z7zAPq-yIBe9_Zmaigp6poSBAfRTxWyP8YSvm4jN4Q1h6ret5J1tAfTh-f4SWyw9923TIfZVsEPXou9O-KqB/s400/prince+-+slave.jpeg" width="400" /></a> lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-3858572232335113132016-04-26T23:27:00.003+10:002016-05-30T17:25:51.764+10:00In memory of Prince 1958-2016<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: orange;"><i><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQ4_B6G9pN2RB3sJgjHqpz8NJZDSsjdeduAZOJqFvUIVNMn3eZug0X5j9Gfbtou0fMTM4RPoJ2u-bCTltcMCixew8czny07U1jDzgItjlNfuPPI6x_8IE_hzFST-F4y5m7mJO-ft_dY3J/s1600/2e6a8b01c34591245a8ae03354a85dcb.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVQ4_B6G9pN2RB3sJgjHqpz8NJZDSsjdeduAZOJqFvUIVNMn3eZug0X5j9Gfbtou0fMTM4RPoJ2u-bCTltcMCixew8czny07U1jDzgItjlNfuPPI6x_8IE_hzFST-F4y5m7mJO-ft_dY3J/s400/2e6a8b01c34591245a8ae03354a85dcb.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">1989: WHEN PRINCE CAME TO RULE MY WORLD</span></b></i></span></div>
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By the time he entered my little suburban life as a young teenager, Prince had already recorded the bulk of his most legendary records. <b><i>Purple Rain</i></b>, <b><i>Controversy</i></b>, <b><i>1999 </i></b>and <i><b>Sign O’ The Times </b></i>established this one-man super band as one of the top acts in the world during the 1980s. His very worthy credentials however were unknown to me that fateful morning – a Saturday, in 1989 – when my bleary-eyed adolescent self, decided to switch from my usual morning cartoon fix to a newly discovered music video program. Prior to now, my exposure to music was largely down to my brothers’ <b>KISS </b>records, my parents’ <b>Bony M </b>collection and commercial radio. Yet my hand-me-down tastes were unceremoniously pummeled into oblivion after tuning in just in time to catch the <b><i>Batdance </i></b>music video. After those 6 plus minutes, I was convinced I had just witnessed the coolest man in all humanity and sad as it sounds, I wanted to <i>be </i>Prince.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSL3zELNraNv_8TxDjoYgt4TH_fZp8jyqh4TkZ6_3SUD19RifbsOoj2uNClFhxGyIcxLWmn4EuLnOAj_CMAiCJTRTSOifvbY3d7autjfQ9w3QtMEXjWc8wsOizMMk8qAnktznLayZ5zfVS/s1600/18tnx8rp7fopjjpg.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSL3zELNraNv_8TxDjoYgt4TH_fZp8jyqh4TkZ6_3SUD19RifbsOoj2uNClFhxGyIcxLWmn4EuLnOAj_CMAiCJTRTSOifvbY3d7autjfQ9w3QtMEXjWc8wsOizMMk8qAnktznLayZ5zfVS/s200/18tnx8rp7fopjjpg.jpg" width="128" /></a>I’m happy to admit that <i><b>Batdance </b></i>as a single was hardly Prince’s greatest effort and as my knowledge of the man’s work grew, I discovered this Frankenstein’s monster track was in fact a rush-recorded bastardisation of several other half-finished cuts from the maestro’s <i><b>Batman </b></i>soundtrack project. Director <b>Tim Burton </b>famously hated the track and it even caused a rift between to the two artists, but to my ears, <i><b>Batdance </b></i>was a game-changer and my personal year dot in terms of a never-ending music obsession. That initial burst of musical puppy love manifested first in daily calls to request radio shows – my voice and singular request became so familiar to DJs, I needed only to say ‘hi’ to get my reward – and secondly in a new found interest in dancing. The Prince/Joker dance routine in <b><i>Batdance </i></b>had to be learned. Not having danced anything bar forced, dusty old ballroom style routines before, I like to think my childhood bedroom bore witness to something approaching an enthusiastic funkateer in the making. </div>
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As fans know too well, Prince was never seen in flat-soled shoes and looking back, an elevated heel would most certainly have afforded me the missing ingredient in perfecting my contortions and twitches. There’s no way a boy can request high-heeled shoes from his parents without a long, long conversation, so in a compromise, I decided adopting a pair of found silver gloves would bring me closer to Princely greatness. One’s teen years are of course filled with shame, so this life-changing obsession was a closely guarded secret. After all I was in unknown territory, and how such a passion might be perceived by others bothered me. Prince-inspired dancing in oversized silver gloves was restricted to the bedroom along with the air guitar solos. Naturally, my shame was soon discovered after my father walked in during a three-turn pirouette followed by a knee-drop (<b><i>Batdance </i></b>again) and, rather than have him think I was dancing, I pretended I was having a fit. For the first time, I had a ‘thing’ that was all mine and I was enjoying my obsession and wished for it to remain un-scrutinised by the<b> Bony M </b>fans in the next room. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYgqfMrr1rHqEMUrRXrfsxqRVnywi8FeOkhpCsa3LEBOkiB-FQJjHRbbbre6nEsPWnD2h1nefPLXf1QjoT59iIFR_exRP0-Gim2WAcRjAEPH9_QIrGuyrM1LRyE6FvwslAeAjX7jONPaz9/s1600/c51027b2d7f4edabb4e2ef33c535b952.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYgqfMrr1rHqEMUrRXrfsxqRVnywi8FeOkhpCsa3LEBOkiB-FQJjHRbbbre6nEsPWnD2h1nefPLXf1QjoT59iIFR_exRP0-Gim2WAcRjAEPH9_QIrGuyrM1LRyE6FvwslAeAjX7jONPaz9/s200/c51027b2d7f4edabb4e2ef33c535b952.jpg" width="153" /></a>Apart from owning a copy of the <b><i>Batdance </i></b>cassingle bought for me by my older sister, I had no claim on a single piece of recorded music. Then roughly a year after <b><i>Batdance </i></b>I discovered the wonderful world of second hand record shops. In those days, well-worn back catalogue albums and singles were dirt cheap and my local outlet boasted an absolute goldmine of Princely gems. It was however, the 12” single of <i><b>Let’s Go Crazy</b></i> that came home with me on that first visit, primarily for its evocative and luxurious cover art and a possibly salacious b-side track entitled <b><i>Erotic City</i></b>. This latest discovery left me enthralled and did not disappoint. The duet in which <b>Prince</b> writhed around in neon-lit urban sleaze offered a scintillating, funky peak into a more adult world than <i><b>Batdance</b></i>. I had not one, but two new dances to learn. <i><b>Let’s Go Crazy</b></i>’s over-the-top party cry grew on me instantly and fast became a bedroom dance session staple. <b><i>Erotic City</i></b> meanwhile yearned for a completely different expression. Where the idea came from to strip stark naked bar a bed sheet worn as a cape and stomp and writhe around, I’ll never know. The power of Prince’s music is all I can offer as explanation (coupled with a good slew of suburban boredom) and that same explanation will suffice for what possessed my 14-year-old self to take the naked sheet dance into the yard of my parents’ home under cover of darkness. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMSYcv2LdnjNj323qKHWsFmlgo3B-3XBMZAtLlfPEXCHidezEEVd8_-tIK57mJJR3mu2_57c-g9swDM1W2Jn5P-IZ1OjRJLTjdy761TF1SMdRKMeP_8e35tO2kBJ9c_m1ffiScIyLObDy8/s1600/partyprincevid.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMSYcv2LdnjNj323qKHWsFmlgo3B-3XBMZAtLlfPEXCHidezEEVd8_-tIK57mJJR3mu2_57c-g9swDM1W2Jn5P-IZ1OjRJLTjdy761TF1SMdRKMeP_8e35tO2kBJ9c_m1ffiScIyLObDy8/s200/partyprincevid.jpg" width="200" /></a>So as I grew and started to catch up on the years of music that had come before my awakening as well as the very latest, I began to encounter stories of rock music’s negative influence according to various killjoys, and was reminded of my sheer indulgence and slight hint of shame at how much I enjoyed Prince’s music. The danger element that had apparently been ruffling the squares feathers since the 1950s was well and truly in me now. Prince as an introduction to music it turned out could not have been more perfect. Here I was, already on the verge of disowning the rather lazy Catholic teachings of my childhood, buzzing with a new set of hormones and in possession of a fairly advanced understanding of how to embarrass my parents, and along comes Prince. Unlike the (in my mind) glam metal clowns, <b>KISS </b>from my brother’s collection, who seemed content to parade around looking like your grans’ worst nightmare, Prince to me was a far more relevant icon of rebellion. His playfulness, eroticism and untouchable style equated to the antithesis of all that was bland and acceptable in my world. </div>
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In the wake of the shock news that Prince died at the age of 57 seemingly without a prolonged illness, I was compelled to go back to that period in my life when so much change was happening and acknowledge how much Prince’s music was a part of that time. As the cliché goes, he was an important part of my life, but perhaps less so clichéd is how. I saw wilfulness and abandon in Prince, as well as a strident bucking of the rules and for a time, it was all that made sense to me. I still believe that to make something truly great, these elements are essential ingredients. Ultimately though, through all his triumphs, failings and backlash, he was never contrived or fake, which is why what Prince was, will always be more than enough for me. </div>
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80T2sbmNKvr0BU7kRoJqRsfS27Qejp_fHNU2CYtSbq49DqjpvhHcOE24PbPzmySvhbKkDrerkiEVN7GgiqDkT-LuWGIMxKBQg5zmQTKPRVcsrXRsxXzKVxIhNE79cJFKWm-ZxZ5VGDvOS/s1600/tumblr_o61ait6awq1qimek4o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80T2sbmNKvr0BU7kRoJqRsfS27Qejp_fHNU2CYtSbq49DqjpvhHcOE24PbPzmySvhbKkDrerkiEVN7GgiqDkT-LuWGIMxKBQg5zmQTKPRVcsrXRsxXzKVxIhNE79cJFKWm-ZxZ5VGDvOS/s400/tumblr_o61ait6awq1qimek4o1_500.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-26271673358938655392016-01-31T23:14:00.000+11:002016-01-31T23:29:14.517+11:00Suede: Night Thoughts (review)<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4GaRtyjNgQRUPTgkKvTw6GXbB0FbNHJMBA48_hjCHIVMY_NAWHvOsDVXWAduLlu0PuvZQ6WqBj8lC2OgrrNKQiz5XDzrgzoqT7ESFszHDA0B98QJPDeiQmGUrUOzbsWRD118JUhbzF9i8/s1600/SUEDE+night+thoughts.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4GaRtyjNgQRUPTgkKvTw6GXbB0FbNHJMBA48_hjCHIVMY_NAWHvOsDVXWAduLlu0PuvZQ6WqBj8lC2OgrrNKQiz5XDzrgzoqT7ESFszHDA0B98QJPDeiQmGUrUOzbsWRD118JUhbzF9i8/s400/SUEDE+night+thoughts.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>SUEDE<br /><i>Night Thoughts</i><br /><span style="font-size: small;">(Warner Music)</span></b></span></span></div>
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Time was NME journalists and the like would devote entire columns to the latest Suede single, marveling all the way and proclaiming them to be the saviours of Brit-pop. Every morsel the band threw to the public was, for a time, a gold nugget rolled in glitter. The established old guard, including Brett Anderson’s musical “parents” <b>Bryan Ferry</b> and <b>David Bowie</b>, couldn’t get arrested when Suede dropped their debut album in 1993. It was a lot of pressure for a young band, and they ultimately those gold nuggets began to take on a decidedly brown hue by the decade’s end. After a stately return in 2013 with <b><i>Bloodsports</i></b>, which went a long way to recapturing their glory, teasers for the release of <i><b>Night Thoughts</b></i> were peppered with references to early Suede touchstones. Particularly, singer/songwriter Anderson’s fixation with the nightmare of domesticity and <b>Kate Bush</b>’s album <i><b>Hounds Of Love</b></i>. Sure enough, the influence of both can be found here.</div>
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<br />Take side two of Bush’s album, dubbed <b><i>The Ninth Wave</i></b>; a concept piece about the last thoughts of a drowning witch and compare Anderson’s blueprint for the new album; thoughts of a metaphorically drowning man who has found himself in domestic hell. To round out the concept, Suede even commissioned a feature film based on the album. Yet after Bush and later, <b>Fever Ray</b> masterfully addressed similar concepts I was a tad sceptical approaching <b><i>Night Thoughts</i></b>. The album opens with <b><i>When You Are Young</i></b>, which unsettles immediately. Icy, descending strings coupled with children’s shrill voices buried low in the mix give way to Brett’s typically dramatic, foreboding vocal. <i><b>No Tomorrow</b></i> manages to raise a daft lyric-inspired smile, despite being about Valium abuse. It’s also a good, loose rock number vaguely reminiscent of old-skool Suede hit, <b><i>Trash</i></b>. Back also is the slow-burning epic Suede on <i><b>Pale Snow</b></i>, which hits its mark without falling over the top.<b><i> Tightrope</i></b> alternately sees Brett straining his voice, which highlights a flaw in the song’s ill-advised attempt to be powerful. His falsetto rears up with better results on <i><b>Learning to Be</b></i>, while first single, <b><i>Like Kids</i></b> verges on irritating. Pared down, <i><b>Night Thoughts</b></i> could have really been epic, rather than a little overwrought, which has always been a fine line for Suede. The cinematic concept and lyrical theme are impressive in parts, but as a whole, the idea feels stretched making it anti-climactic. Giving the masculine perspective on domestic inertia and paranoia is an original move, but unfortunately so is hearing them burdened by normality. <br /></div>
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div>
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<br />lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-16175328011518630762014-09-01T01:24:00.003+10:002014-09-01T01:40:33.840+10:00Manic Street Preachers: 'The Holy Bible' 20th anniversary<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNgbxQfO-s5CJRM9hGA2HdnlMaega-Z6y5gRxlj4GqlSphy9YD720yjB8GWjNKbrcmpIfleOOttXhgx0udupcE7Gjr2JOUJ8q9XG8dfEY6AfqQBQaNk8jBgTc0Z4eShYpSxY0ROZqOvBZX/s1600/ManicStreetPreachers_TheHolyBible.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNgbxQfO-s5CJRM9hGA2HdnlMaega-Z6y5gRxlj4GqlSphy9YD720yjB8GWjNKbrcmpIfleOOttXhgx0udupcE7Gjr2JOUJ8q9XG8dfEY6AfqQBQaNk8jBgTc0Z4eShYpSxY0ROZqOvBZX/s1600/ManicStreetPreachers_TheHolyBible.jpg" height="400" width="400" /></a>THE SACRED AND THE PROFANE</i></b></span></span></div>
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<b>This month marks the 20th anniversary of one of the most intriguing and intense records ever produced. The story of <i>The Holy Bible</i> - The Manic Street Preachers 3rd album - has become the stuff of legend. As a tribute to the album's enduring importance, I was compelled to write a few thoughts on the facts and possibilities surrounding its creation. </b><br />
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Ask anyone who was there what albums defined the Brit-pop era and you wouldn’t get much of a variation on <b>Blur’s </b><i><b>Parklife</b> </i>and <b>Oasis’ <i>Definitely Maybe</i></b>. Those bands were celebrating their creative or at least commercial peak, and were a feast of material for music columnists everywhere. The year was 1994 and in grunge’s dying light it was ‘no time for losers’ as British rock – from many journalists point of view at least – provided an antidote to the endless parade of sulky post-Nirvana American 'slacker' bands. Realistically though, very few of the so-called Brit-pop bands wanted a bar of the media-driven ‘scene’ they found themselves unwilling parties to. More to the point, there were in-crowd bands who made bankable albums and gave good quote - namely Blur and Oasis – while two rather angular outsiders (also good for a quote, it should be mentioned) felt rather more worthy of my attention. A year after their much hyped debut, <b>Suede </b>dropped the grandiose, career-defining <i><b>Dog Man Star</b></i> and it's raw ambition alone lifted it head and shoulders above anything in the then scene. Its creation however, was so utterly punishing for the band, any promise of a future seemed in tatters. Suede's rise and fall and rise again became a pattern which ultimately defined them, but such triumph and tragedy paled in comparison to that of the <b>Manic Street Preachers</b>.<br />
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As opposed to Suede, 1993 was not a good year for the Manics. On the verge of being dropped by their label following underperforming second album <b><i>Gold Against The Soul</i></b>, the band who so many found difficult to swallow threw out the manifesto which had got them noticed in the first place. Old, borrowed ambitions of ‘world domination’ and ‘highest selling albums’ were let go of. The new manifesto if there ever was one, was to ditch the clichés – or at least to stop trying to compete with <b>Guns N’ Roses</b>. For the Manics, the way forward was in sight, but at what cost? I sometimes wonder if they would have done things differently had they known the outcome awaiting them in the wake of their third album. The recording of <b><i>The Holy Bible</i></b> (working title: <i><b>The Poetry Of Death</b></i>) was by all accounts a fairly jubilant time within the band. Reportedly, Nicky Wire, James Dean Bradfield and Sean Moore were smashing through tracks in the studio in record time. His technical role as ‘rhythm guitarist’ meant that Richey Edwards was scarcely required during recording, yet he never missed a session. Realistically, his work was already done and he had little to do but witness the process of his words being turned into music.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNUCENVz3-_zfTkvVEW-hdE5Zo6unW4Zb_njzkpVkFOYPXYu2mhV2uVGUL6kbRup2tItI54xuVVEFqf0-bMUEOvQKhTHhZEcTGJJZpO8btGXeCKgYSGdq_EQHhzqRJZGU_shQZ50a_uBj/s1600/Richey.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNUCENVz3-_zfTkvVEW-hdE5Zo6unW4Zb_njzkpVkFOYPXYu2mhV2uVGUL6kbRup2tItI54xuVVEFqf0-bMUEOvQKhTHhZEcTGJJZpO8btGXeCKgYSGdq_EQHhzqRJZGU_shQZ50a_uBj/s1600/Richey.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a>Romantically speaking, Edwards’ approach to writing conjures up images of the<b> Marquis De Sade</b> amusing himself with a bout of desperate scrawling and analyses. Along with co-writer Nicky Wire, it’s fun to imagine the pair wiling away the hours over a bottle of claret, filling note pads with ‘controversial ideas’ and ‘quotable common sense statements’ by dusty old European provocateurs. Wire may in fact have planted this image in my head himself, but he knows too well that it is barely half the real story. The lyrics on <b><i>The Holy Bible</i></b> will forever be the handle by which it is grappled and wrestled with. Musically no one could deny its intense power, but Edwards’ raw insight was so compelling, many could not get past it then and – following his slide into depression and ultimate disappearance – it only served to act as an epitaph. The pen had proved mightier than the guitar and the Manics would go down in history as the band who had and lost the greatest writer of their generation. What was it then that separated Edwards from his contemporaries and peers? <br />
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Over the centuries many great periods of enlightenment have been documented – the birth of science, Renaissance art and critical thinking all rank among events of historical importance, but rock music’s ability to shape society is often overlooked when compiling such lists. Having said that, <b><i>The Holy Bible</i></b> didn’t shape society any more than the invention of the lollipop, but as a contemporary piece of art, it strived for more – much more – than what was already on offer. Its significance was felt by the listener willing to invest in what was actually being stated, and in many ways it was near impossible to criticise. Listening to his words, I feel as though Edwards not so much peered into the abyss, but shared an intimate relationship with it. The beauty of it all though is his lack of trite self-reflection or cringe-worthy emotive megalomania. <b><i>The Holy Bible</i></b> is beyond ego which is its most enduring feature. It’s the album equivalent of the artist who stopped painting himself and finally broke through the surface, producing a work of genuine truth in all its wonder and horror.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFRkw1yCovteSCInI4UWToKZfYnSWmxFv4vkRAVod0uOlkIHvJpp_sAAtrVA2pjTUMzDkbxbRfNU-8mNukgdZahj6ScDb64JK5dkBusa9_5ltHj_VBuuWU_GJlEupgdYoxQDYKfid8r91/s1600/manic-street-preachers-050520.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFRkw1yCovteSCInI4UWToKZfYnSWmxFv4vkRAVod0uOlkIHvJpp_sAAtrVA2pjTUMzDkbxbRfNU-8mNukgdZahj6ScDb64JK5dkBusa9_5ltHj_VBuuWU_GJlEupgdYoxQDYKfid8r91/s1600/manic-street-preachers-050520.jpg" height="117" width="200" /></a></div>
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Key track, <b><i>Faster </i></b>works as a summary for the album. It’s truth is the serendipitous realisation that only if we discard the ego, are we free to realise our true power and potential. Hence, the setting we are in as listeners is not the ‘happy being sad’ territory occupied by the pompous black-eyeliner wearing goth and emo bands. The album, it must be said, only reveals itself gradually. Titles are often misleading, lyrics sung in a garbled fashion but then there is no doubt what<b><i> 4st 7lb </i></b>deals with. Here Edwards offers a matter-of-fact approach to anorexia from firsthand experience, devoid of any kind of self-pity. He treads a fine line between critical analysis and exploration based on remarkable insight and observation. But the tragic reality of Edwards was that in apparently achieving this rare kind of detachment, he lost his will to self-preserve. He came to see himself as so flawed that his mind would not allow him help his failing body. The much-documented self-harm and poor diet on top of alcohol abuse finally landed him in a psych hospital pumped full of sedatives. To this day, Nicky Wire believes that Edwards’ treatment in the Priory was his undoing.<br />
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Then in February 1995, just over five months after <b><i>The Holy Bible</i></b> hit the shelves, Edwards discharged himself from life at the age of 27. While suicide was a likely outcome, the true nature of his disappearance will probably never be known. The album was Edwards’ final legacy and the very act of writing it gave him not release or relief from his growing issues, but rather a doorway into an area of his psyche from which he could never seemingly return. Songs such as<b><i> The Intense Humming Of Evil</i></b> and <b><i>Mausoleum </i></b>had historical context – namely the <b>Holocaust </b>– but pouring over Edwards lyrics, he isn’t writing about one event in history, he sees human history itself as one long Holocaust. Abuse of power is a recurring theme on the album as witnessed in songs like <i><b>Yes</b></i>, <b><i>Revol</i></b> and <b><i>IfWhiteAmericaToldTheTruthForOneDayItsWorldWouldFallApart.</i></b> Edwards reappraised works like <b><i>Animal Farm</i></b> utterly stripping away any metaphor. <i><b>IfWhiteAmerica…</b></i> and <b><i>Yes </i></b>are as direct as their names suggest. The later dealing with prostitution in all its forms to be clear. Edwards was not so much anti-corporate – the band were on a major label after all – but he accepted that at every stage in one’s life/career etc… there is always somebody to answer to. Power is always somewhere else – never with the individual. </div>
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Whether this troubled him immensely or it was just a fact of life as he saw it, is hard to tell which really is the true unanswered mystery of<i><b> The Holy Bible</b></i> and its creation. The rest of the band asked very few questions about Edwards’ motivation for what he was writing at the time. It was good material and they brought it to life, but should his outpourings have raised alarm bells? To be fair to the band, no. They were on their third record and it was shaping up to be the most ground-breaking material any one had heard in a long while. They trusted him as a writer completely and they yearned for success. Edwards himself had no ‘shrinking violet’ pretensions. He wanted the <b>Manic Street Preachers</b> to be the biggest band on the planet, because, as he put it, they were the only band who told the truth and they deserved recognition for it. His reason for naming the album <b><i>The Holy Bible</i></b>, was that it contained the <i>true </i>history of mankind and should therefore claim ownership over ‘that book’ which offered only fantasy. Ultimately though, his grandiose stance proved unsustainable, and once the songs that made up the album were out of his system, he physically digressed so completely it was as though his very soul had been sacrificed for them. Witnessing his final year from the conception to completion of <b><i>The Holy Bible</i></b>, Edwards disappearance almost seems like the only logical outcome following what he would probably have seen as total and utter fulfilment.</div>
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-13222876648214522832014-07-20T20:15:00.000+10:002014-07-21T00:59:39.094+10:00Manic Street Preachers: Futurology (review)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>ACHTUNG, BABY!</i></b></span></span></div>
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The build up for the release of <b><i>Futurology </i></b>began almost a year ago in the wake of the Manics 11th album, <b><i>Rewind The Film</i></b>. What was promised was a heavier ‘yang’ to <b><i>Rewind</i></b>’s acoustic ‘ying’ - Nice analogy, and hardly a first in music, but ‘yang’ comes nowhere near cutting it when describing <b><i>Futurology</i></b>’s monstrous, Germanic stomp over <b><i>Rewind</i></b>’s slow amble through Wales’ recent history. Recorded at Berlin’s world renowned Hansa studios, the second part of a proposed trilogy takes its cue from post-new wave industrial music, <b>David Bowie</b>’s <i>Low </i>and good old German precision. Pre-release, the fan-teasing announcements came thick and fast ensuring anticipation levels never dipped. A return to rock, a variety of guest vocalists, and the knock-out punch that <b>Alex Silva </b>would return on production duties had fans salivating. After all it was Silva who assisted in bringing <b><i>The Holy Bible</i></b> to life – long considered to be the Manics’ true masterpiece. While that album was a sprawling bombsite of nervous energy and the darkest of thoughts, <b><i>Futurology </i></b>is the post-devastation re-build - and if any band knows the meaning of ‘rebuilding’ it’s the Manics. </div>
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But all anyone really needs to know in order to enjoy their current work is that contradictions abound and listeners are challenged to make their own minds up as to why. Futurology is defined as the study of patterns in society with a view to predicting a probable outcome. It is argued that this is a futile act, and that hindsight is the only true teacher. This pseudo-science is a hint as to where the Manics are coming from. The importance of ‘learning from the past’ is a mantra most history buffs are quite happy to chant, but on <b><i>Futurology </i></b>the Manics present a more realistic – opposite is reality – theory. The title track sets up the album’s manifesto with muddled tenses, “<i>we’ll come back one day/we never really went away</i>”. Musically, the past is carefully mined to include sounds associated with a time when <b>Kraftwerk </b>and <b>The Human League </b>were <i>THE </i>sound of the future. Rest assured though, this is no puffed up ‘ironic ‘80s’ album from a bunch of aging socialist rockers. First single <i><b>Europa Geht Durch Mich</b></i>’s delivery is icy and direct, aided masterfully by German film star Nina Hoss who swaps choruses and verses with JD Bradfield. The result is an urgent, militant bilingual exchange over a relentless marching beat that makes <b>Rammstein </b>sound whimsical by comparison. <b><i>Europa </i></b>is complemented and perhaps even outshone by the fearsome <i><b>Let’s Go To War</b></i>. The darkness of <b><i>The Holy Bible</i></b> returns on this rally cry, which conjures up images of goose-stepping Nazis, while clearly is a reaction to the bands’ own occasional dithering deviations. It’s an odd blend of <b>Eno</b>-esque cavernous/claustrophobic synths and multi-tracked vocals – surely a signature of Hansa studio itself. Most importantly though, because it’s a Manics album, these tracks - along with <b><i>Sex Power and Money</i></b> and <b><i>Walk Me To The Bridge</i> </b>- are dressed up as certified stadium rock anthems. The latter of which is pomp at its best. Imagine <b><i>Livin’ On A Prayer</i></b> shagging <b><i>She Sells Sanctuary</i></b> – only much better. <br />
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At its core, <b><i>Futurology </i></b>is a complete overhaul by a band approaching middle-age and who are still hungry but keen to put a few past mistakes to bed. Wire’s biting but self-effacing lyrics on <b><i>The Next Jet To Leave Moscow</i></b> are a genuine nod to errors of judgement, such as the much maligned concert for Castro; “<i>So you played in Cuba, did you like it brother?/I bet you felt proud you silly little fucker</i>”. Departure is a recurring theme but predominantly the songs are underpinned by a youthful, idealistic future full of possibilities versus the lamentable reality. <b><i>The View From Stow Hill</i></b> as a case in point is the tale of two desecrated cities – Newport and Berlin – both of which quickly became gentrified after years of neglect and political mismanagement. Wire’s bitter-sweet observations are carried on through the sublime working class ballad, <i><b>Between The Clock and The Bed</b></i> – a perfectly matched duet between Bradfield and <b>Scritti Politti</b>’s <b>Green Gartside</b>. <b><i>Misguided Missile</i></b> is the nihilist from <b><i>Faster</i></b> all grown up, “<i>I am the strum and drang/I am the Schadenfreude/I can still fill your void.</i>” But it’s the longing <i><b>Divine Youth</b></i> that is the real heart of <b><i>Futurology</i></b>. This paean to physical change - the truly unavoidable indicator of passing time – humanises this often brutalist work. Only time will tell if <b><i>Futurology</i></b> will enjoy the level of plaudits often heaped on past glories like <i><b>The Holy Bible</b></i> or <b><i>Everything Must Go</i></b>, but the Manics know too well recognition for their victories has long been hard-won. If anything it’s this fact which has ensured they continue to work harder and are quite likely to yet produce their finest album. In the meantime, <i><b>Futurology</b></i> will do nicely as wearer of that particular crown. <br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b><br />
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-87832841545411832322014-03-31T10:48:00.003+11:002014-03-31T10:56:29.388+11:00Thomas Jaspers interview: 2014<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<b>At 27, Melbourne comedian Thomas Jaspers realises many of his interests are not typical of a guy his age. A self-diagnosed early mid-life crisis has recently bought to the surface his inner ‘little old lady’ - and she has a royal appointment of the highest order. In his new show for the MICF – <i>God, Save The Queen</i> – Jaspers flexes his stiff upper lip and indulges his peculiar obsession with the world’s most iconic little old lady and her renowned dysfunctional family.</b></div>
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“I think the royal family were the first celebrities, as in how we see celebrity today, but also the Queen is a mum and grandma as well as being a fashion icon for lovers of pastel everywhere.” Jaspers admits the two main prompts for his latest show, were the world’s least risqué tattoo and the realisation he just <i>loved </i>little old ladies. “When I was growing up, my parents worked in a nursing home and I spent a lot of time with old ladies, and I know it’s really uncool but, I actually loved talking to them and hearing their war stories. Also as part of my ‘gay mid-life crisis’ I decided to get a tattoo of the Queen and because everybody keeps asking me why I got that, I decided to write a show expanding on my obsession.” </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b>When Rhonda Met Rhonda</b></i></span></span> </td></tr>
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Jaspers, despite his clean-cut appearance and ‘kind to old ladies’ policy, has the heart of a gutter-crawling drag queen. His hilarious drag characterisation of entertainer, <b>Rhonda Burchmore</b> (Ne. <b>Rhonda</b> <b>Butchmore</b>) as a sloppy drunk is widely known among fans – no less than by Rhonda herself. In cross-dressing mode, Jaspers swills beer, belches and staggers about reflecting the much suspected behind closed-doors behaviour of the late Queen mum.</div>
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“I’m a big fan of the Queen mum – she was the biggest fag-hag in Britain for employing only gay men to work for her.” He laughs, “There is a lot of material for comedy within the royal family, but this (show) isn’t some anti-monarchy rant. Of course I talk about the sort of failings of <b>Prince Phillip</b>, whose main role seems to be to just walk two paces behind the Queen, making him the most pussy-whipped man in the world. But it’s mostly just an affectionate but honest look at the good and bad sides of the royals from a queen’s perspective.” But Thom’s affection for the Queen extends beyond regular fandom, he reveals. Not that she would have remotely suspected during their brief encounter on her 2012 visit to Melbourne - “It was like a religious experience” - but he had already long been planning for her majesty’s eventual passing.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycqkYeSGefn_e14iHShyphenhyphenrS4cm7ca8FQ-RlwALbPbFnJHEwTOo2Wm7JXacKTPGgHhHkUJ_OYaCMNP9g5wtkiNFCIxEfHIDPVcqNVp7XHSGSLFD0-zPu6jh8sdv6_17JSr6B3PyGkyAR0xK/s1600/TJ03.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgycqkYeSGefn_e14iHShyphenhyphenrS4cm7ca8FQ-RlwALbPbFnJHEwTOo2Wm7JXacKTPGgHhHkUJ_OYaCMNP9g5wtkiNFCIxEfHIDPVcqNVp7XHSGSLFD0-zPu6jh8sdv6_17JSr6B3PyGkyAR0xK/s1600/TJ03.jpg" /></a>“Since I was about 10, I’ve had a separate savings account that’s got about two grand in it specifically for when she dies so I can fly straight to England and attend the funeral.” He adds, “I even have a clause in my work contract for my day job that states if the Queen dies I automatically get two weeks off for bereavement-leave!” With the breaking news that Prime Minister Abbott is planning a return to ‘ye olde worlde’ titles in parliament – Knighthoods, Damehoods etc.. – Jaspers has been handed a steaming hot topic, teaming nicely with his theme. “It’s given me about ten extra minutes of material, actually.” He laughs, “But I think I might be the only person who’s actually really into this idea.” He adds, nominating himself, “I think it’d be nice to be Australia’s first Knight AND Dame all at once. I could be Knight Jaspers and <b>Dame Rhonda Butchmore</b>. Wouldn’t that be fun?”<br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div>
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-46520049936566537662013-12-18T23:37:00.000+11:002013-12-18T23:39:01.833+11:00Peter Murphy (Bauhaus) interview: 2013<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqdyjnImPdDO6IqPZ5TcCbgZMN37Efum2OYJ58Y_KYpHXQM0QYF7IpT4zsZ_FdkhjAmKuMA6EK0XuBX1_JWPMwJbev687A62YgcKRucczI8lffDqOmZ0knrh3bXtQM3PLKxLb6RjfjVLn/s1600/Peter_Murphy_LOe578e4.jpeg.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqdyjnImPdDO6IqPZ5TcCbgZMN37Efum2OYJ58Y_KYpHXQM0QYF7IpT4zsZ_FdkhjAmKuMA6EK0XuBX1_JWPMwJbev687A62YgcKRucczI8lffDqOmZ0knrh3bXtQM3PLKxLb6RjfjVLn/s400/Peter_Murphy_LOe578e4.jpeg.png" width="400" /></a>HAUS MUSIC</b></i></span></span><br />
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<b>Robert Smith, Nick Cave, Trent Reznor, even David Bowie all owe a debt to Peter Murphy and his haunted outpourings as leader of goth-rockers, Bauhaus. According to Murphy himself, that is. It’s a big claim for a man who stumbled into music, only learning of his abilities as he went along. Perhaps his early lack of self-perception afforded him a fearless, unstudied approach to creating music, but Murphy has returned 35 years on to stake his belated claim as unsung genius. </b></div>
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“There is no ‘back in the day’ for me when I talk about the music I made with Bauhaus.” He says of the Northampton-based band he fronted from 1978. “My music did not suddenly grow old and die when we split up.” In 1983, Murphy left Bauhaus after tensions arose from his increasing stardom over and above that of his band mates. This was perhaps illustrated best by his heavily stylised appearance - as himself - in the film <b><i>The Hunger</i></b>. Seen performing one of the first songs he ever wrote – <b><i>Bella Lugosi’s Dead</i></b> – Murphy’s status as ‘goth icon’ was cemented in those 4 minutes. The film that followed was a modern vampire tale complete with <b>David Bowie</b> in the lead role. On set, Murphy proudly recalls Bowie’s surprising admittance to him.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAd2gf-xPNS8uOCuy8LO4Y15ezHlhpYsEOH96M2ehkFtOP-QPvnCrMMjOnMWTa3-PoGBc9OMqymae8sDdJRKN4DLM9-AhRx0xgr0f9jZvXyThlkxuOTFeXOixKA5TjWG9dNb1v9w-QiLed/s1600/Pete+Murphy+2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAd2gf-xPNS8uOCuy8LO4Y15ezHlhpYsEOH96M2ehkFtOP-QPvnCrMMjOnMWTa3-PoGBc9OMqymae8sDdJRKN4DLM9-AhRx0xgr0f9jZvXyThlkxuOTFeXOixKA5TjWG9dNb1v9w-QiLed/s200/Pete+Murphy+2.jpg" width="200" /></a>“He whispered into my ear, ‘I wish we had done <i><b>Ziggy </b></i>(<b><i>Stardust</i></b>) like you did it.’” He grins. “Almost nobody, including the band, wanted me to do it so when Bowie tells me he likes my version better than his own, it really made think I should just trust my instincts.” The Bowie cover remains Murphy’s biggest hit to this day, but at that stage Bauhaus were already over bar the shouting. While the rest of the band went on to form sleaze-rock group, <b>Love & Rockets</b>, Murphy ramped up the vamp on several solo albums before finding birds of a similar feather (<b>Nine Inch Nails</b>) to hang with. </div>
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“Trent (Reznor) was an unashamed Bauhaus fan. When I met him he was just this young guy with one album out – <b><i>Pretty Hate Machine</i></b> – and you could hear our influence all over that. We ended up recording a few covers together, which somebody has leaked but they were never officially released.” It was a match made in goth-rock heaven, but the increasing popularity Bauhaus’ music had gained in their absence prompted a return in 2005 and further demise in ’08. “The band I’ve got now, I’ve been working with for quite a few years and, with respect to the other lads in Bauhaus, I can play our music just fine without them there, you know.” He adds, “I learned to play Dan (Ash – Bauhaus guitarist)’s parts years ago and people have long been asking me to Bauhaus songs in my shows, so I thought ‘fuck it’ why not do it. Why not tour just Bauhaus’ songs as Peter Murphy? They are mostly my songs, after all.”</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-0uM94Sj4vcF5I-XZyPdy_l4tWBXm1tmKeBKVg8VHGrJhRHapeCGBJI-HfpAuASFGFy4_LgsbKYyZ9rsF2qcWmKfZNdYAR3dkDOQgqu1s1TyCaXR6R5Nsc0cxxjP26ebknb4fZJyNxYc/s1600/Pete+Murphy+3.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6-0uM94Sj4vcF5I-XZyPdy_l4tWBXm1tmKeBKVg8VHGrJhRHapeCGBJI-HfpAuASFGFy4_LgsbKYyZ9rsF2qcWmKfZNdYAR3dkDOQgqu1s1TyCaXR6R5Nsc0cxxjP26ebknb4fZJyNxYc/s200/Pete+Murphy+3.png" width="200" /></a>Now assured of his legacy in music, Murphy scarcely sees the point in unraveling the ‘enigmatic genius’ tag he has been awarded by, either his musical peers - or more brazenly, himself depending on how real or not the bravado all is. It’s only in the final few seconds before his deep, arresting voice is replaced by a dial tone does he throw me a clue. “I don’t mind doing press actually, but journalists don’t get the real me. You can only get in as far as I want you to. I hate to be a buzz kill, darling but when you’re the ‘grandfather of goth’, you have to keep at least partway in the shadows.”<br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div>
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-35521749367826081862013-08-12T12:29:00.001+10:002013-08-12T12:36:35.420+10:00Mark Hamilton (Ash) interview: 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>'1977' - DON'T LOOK BACK</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #0000ee;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /><span style="color: black;">You couldn't, quite frankly, invent a band like Ash. This group of teenage <i>Star Wars</i>-obsessed Black Sabbath-fanatics’ endless bubble-gum punk anthems stopped everything Britpop in its tracks - at least for a moment - in the mid-‘90s. Their very specific obsessions culminated in acclaimed debut album <i>1977</i>, which legend has it, was partly funded by stolen cash and, depending on what you believe, the lads’ double lives as rent boys. But whatever the truth of the matter, Ash bassist Mark Hamilton proves to be little help in sorting fact from fiction. His blurred memory defeats him at most every turn as he trawls the past in search of answers to what happened in order to land Ash in the ‘rock legends’ basket.</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGR2-33cBziAq1yXXq5m0AXgKo5xB1cYdJVNZSB3jf8KKO3IS7S4WO7IzWU1ad9rKoy_9COoR4jrUFlKWdXxgabCMwSIpyW8cfmOSlYwjATIhweWEzk7bNbOgl8snOvPDnsfBp2pzEWXwD/s1600/ASH10.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGR2-33cBziAq1yXXq5m0AXgKo5xB1cYdJVNZSB3jf8KKO3IS7S4WO7IzWU1ad9rKoy_9COoR4jrUFlKWdXxgabCMwSIpyW8cfmOSlYwjATIhweWEzk7bNbOgl8snOvPDnsfBp2pzEWXwD/s1600/ASH10.jpg" /></a>“I don’t remember, honestly, a lot about that time (recording <i>1977</i>).” He offers after a prolonged pause. “All I know is we were desperate to get out of school and make something of ourselves in order to get out of having the drudgery of work/life balance - whatever that is supposed to mean!” Speaking to me ahead of the Australian leg of their <i>1977</i> ‘don’t look back’ shows, Hamilton finds himself a last minute stand in for vocalist Tim Wheeler who has disappeared somewhere within the band’s hotel. One ‘fun’ past-time Ash have never tired of is checking in under assumed names, making it impossible for journalists and crazed fans alike to track their movements. “Our thing is to check in under the names of our road crew, and they use our names… It just means we can get a bit more privacy.” He laughs, “The guys (crew) don’t mind. They filter our calls… it’s all part of the service!” </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBN-YsJM4-xonoqrNFs3Cf4gWH9qu73CuMd-xDRxpEYG4QuyQIonDtBBAZEk1nw_AFn1i6-CoxXCG8dnO0JPS0npKIFoLH_bIL6ejbNhzq6NyJU67xOjdxOPoeiC4vwfezyX8fUlk0lo-1/s1600/ASH08.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBN-YsJM4-xonoqrNFs3Cf4gWH9qu73CuMd-xDRxpEYG4QuyQIonDtBBAZEk1nw_AFn1i6-CoxXCG8dnO0JPS0npKIFoLH_bIL6ejbNhzq6NyJU67xOjdxOPoeiC4vwfezyX8fUlk0lo-1/s1600/ASH08.jpg" /></a>Mark’s notorious cheeky side is still well intact, but his memory lacks the same prowess. Perhaps even more than the other two, Hamilton famously wiped himself out in grand style, long before Russell Brand made such activities into a full-time career. His memory of Australia however is simple. “I always think of Australia as being very clean and plus we have a lot of friends there, so I associate it with the people I know. It feels very familiar now, because we have been touring there since our first album came out.” In 1996, Ash toured internationally for the first time. They had yet to complete year 12 but instead found themselves learning what it meant to be ‘stars’ on a global scale. “We had no concept of society outside of Ireland. Not even outside of our own backyards really. What made it so great was everywhere we went we found the people who were most into us were just kids like us. We weren’t playing to older audiences really and now, our fans have grown up with us and even bring their own teenage kids to our gigs. So in some ways it feels like that aspect to playing live has stayed the same.” </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTuSVRy8XCmyCQ0WAkZjJBA4rYOdErMlnURAdvzaq6SIfc_3O1GZbSaW6bVKkTUMLe1wT_YpsNMZd_x6Zz9eQvLy_JfJLHeSM2kM8OzwP3RBhVgBy7lr_XW5DKkxnj3LNdaZdVcnHAx8J/s1600/ASH03.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXTuSVRy8XCmyCQ0WAkZjJBA4rYOdErMlnURAdvzaq6SIfc_3O1GZbSaW6bVKkTUMLe1wT_YpsNMZd_x6Zz9eQvLy_JfJLHeSM2kM8OzwP3RBhVgBy7lr_XW5DKkxnj3LNdaZdVcnHAx8J/s200/ASH03.jpg" width="193" /></a>The topic of Oasis rears its head, as <i>1977</i>’s producer, Owen Morris had recently completed a successful session on Liam and Noel’s monstrous <i>(What’s The Story) Morning Glory</i> album before ‘taking a chance’ on the little known Irish combo. “Owen was still pretty young at the time, and he was all about creating a certain vibe in order to capture the mood on record. That would often mean taking drugs, drinks or being in drag in the studio.” He laughs, “It was all about keeping it on the edge and capturing that spontaneous magic.” The vibe at the sessions was, it turned out, ideal for Ash. “To be honest, it didn’t take much prompting from Owen. He was really curious about us and he heard something in our music – even in the early days before Oasis got really big – and we were probably a greater risk to him as a producer, which seemed to motivate him.” <i>1977</i> has often been cited as a ‘tribute’ album of sorts to the Ash’s heroes, such as <i>Star Wars</i> creator, George Lucas, actor Jackie Chan and bands like Black Sabbath and The Ramones. Mark recalls.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEira3c1PBQjxlv5zgCLbQI4x3oEYBWHV3PEH9ibkSWoYecFgeVeQGutBygZAxuQIRl1_l8Q11Ip1kUGU8vp6zQ4vTqYACr1l9M_RWtiY-ppcr8xs-mknCcOsVVH-yr7EdjckovaHgS3paPZ/s400/ASH09.jpg" width="400" /> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>“When it started out we didn’t have too much of a game plan to be honest. We wrote what we thought of as a bunch of singles and a few extra songs to finish the album off. I mean there are obviously influences in there… I don’t really know what to say… I can’t remember what we were doing and if we had a plan or not!” He laughs, and begins to suffer amnesia. “I think songs like <i>Lose Control</i> had a lot of Sonic Youth influences, and…” he pauses again, “Ask me about a song on that album, and I can tell you about where what influenced it.” Considering Ash’s run of short, sharp pop punk singles – <i>Kung Fu</i>, <i>Girl From Mars</i>, <i>Angel Interceptor </i>– was broken by slow burning, almost goth-rock ballad <i>Goldfinger</i>, I choose this one to question Mark about. “<i>Goldfinger</i> …?” He says sighing. “This was us trying to show that there was maybe more to Ash as a band.” He decides. “Tim (Wheeler) had this <i>James Bond</i>-like guitar sequence already written, and he kept playing it at rehearsals. I didn’t see what the appeal was at first but Owen kept on at us to do something with it. I didn’t think of it as a potential single, but it ended up going Top 5 in the UK and I am kind of glad about that because I think we were in danger of being seen as one-trick pony’s.”</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAI0noG3nmozlJ7CGblis8tInqPjC-vAXv8JGHIjwS060YyubmQAnJABzcXK2f361euJUO3xE1RWyhWPfkXSr36_G1sJ-8AVgvfYbtcISYR2u4u13sHzcnZO8y2gpqNhrGMd-wmLSOwxlN/s1600/ASH02.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAI0noG3nmozlJ7CGblis8tInqPjC-vAXv8JGHIjwS060YyubmQAnJABzcXK2f361euJUO3xE1RWyhWPfkXSr36_G1sJ-8AVgvfYbtcISYR2u4u13sHzcnZO8y2gpqNhrGMd-wmLSOwxlN/s200/ASH02.jpg" width="196" /></a>At this stage in their career, the former teen punks are still on an ‘onward and upward’ trajectory in many respects. While the current tour is all ‘blast from the past’, never have they been more prolific in turning out new music. The recent A-Z series saw the band record and release a new song every two weeks over a twelve month period as a nod towards more contemporary music-buying trends. “It was so liberating to that. It was much more of outlet than what recording an album is because no two songs had any relation to each other and we weren’t restricted to making songs that would work as a collection of tracks with a running order and all that… It isn’t something we could ever re-create either,” He pauses, “much like recording another <i>1977</i>. We could never expect to have another number one album.” </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><img border="0" height="306" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4JAwNyg47vLVDG4pgEPl3d6yJx1Nrlzf8jOdk5ueSpvdM9ZHgBBB1S-fpTRVNCKJZukppjJADWz22-VXd2A6sTxbGeYLOrARafXA-GNxRsMeMFtZzjhueB_ubgD5yjSFSU36A6tz7GyWT/s400/ASH01.jpg" width="400" /> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>“The days of having ‘massive albums’ are behind us because we don’t have the huge label machine working for us, you know. For the last 7 or 8 years that’s how we’ve been working. We tour our ‘major label hit album’ in cycles and record and release music as an independent band, so it’s a bit of double life we’re leading in a way.” As Ash’s debut album is allegedly to be ‘played in full’ on this tour, the closing track on the album – <i>Sick Party</i> - raises a serious question. Is the track - a tape recording of Hamilton vomiting violently while Wheeler and drummer Rick McMurray cackle insanely in the background - worthy of a live recreation? “I just wanna say that, it’s never planned but sometimes it just happens. Let’s face it, we are the kind of band people expect to see passing out in a pool of sick, but you’ll have to wait and see.”</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br />lEIGh5</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2eLS4NZqsbRa80gBW3eOzCYn9GbNp7NRm8IeqRMSlM-wuEa_20habEEylwlAElHdQ2rAaWx048ow445CutH4eYgijHrQLa7tj3_vRZG2z2Ba3110treT4W2k2wpPuIIVzVNBafUFK__0/s1600/ash07.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2eLS4NZqsbRa80gBW3eOzCYn9GbNp7NRm8IeqRMSlM-wuEa_20habEEylwlAElHdQ2rAaWx048ow445CutH4eYgijHrQLa7tj3_vRZG2z2Ba3110treT4W2k2wpPuIIVzVNBafUFK__0/s400/ash07.jpg" width="283" /></a></div>
lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-89557729257868499742013-07-04T02:42:00.000+10:002014-07-20T20:21:57.772+10:00Manic Street Preachers: live in Melbourne, 2013<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGnGDjSkBqZZ6ln_QzkgHuydrA-ZzZZAlZbAgfulFqGfTpsVBAn-Ij-DosfrGYZUbZ6tCPE_hbv9ekX6ZBafxIDMzUwRTbprKxBVtdj7-6cG6MfyCh7cwPoGlpt3hwVecmr92MZGQkQ1U/s315/MANICS3.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwGnGDjSkBqZZ6ln_QzkgHuydrA-ZzZZAlZbAgfulFqGfTpsVBAn-Ij-DosfrGYZUbZ6tCPE_hbv9ekX6ZBafxIDMzUwRTbprKxBVtdj7-6cG6MfyCh7cwPoGlpt3hwVecmr92MZGQkQ1U/s400/MANICS3.jpg" height="202" width="400" /></a><span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Venue: Festival Hall<br />Date: 28/06</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i> </i></b></span></span><span style="color: orange;"><br /></span><b>The Manic Street Preachers</b> have evolved beautifully over the years into a band comfortable with what they are. The early cockiness, the time of uncertainty and the wilderness years are all behind them and despite having no new material to promote or even having been on tour at all, they display a refreshing, well-earned confidence tonight at Festival Hall. Having refined their strengths and shed a few old ghosts, they stand today as the very picture of ‘triumph against the odds’. The current set list alone represents a ‘chop off the slack’ approach to fulfilling what they themselves see as a ‘dream Manics set’, and while there will always be a few who go away disappointed, for the vast majority who attended tonight’s gig, it was pure heaven. <br />
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The fact that the band are here at all is a pleasant surprise to their multitude of devotees, making this one-off show all the more delicious. A tie-in with the British and Irish Lions rugby match in Australia was the given reason for a fly-in fly-out visit, while back home in Cardiff, the band were up to now putting the final touches on the follow up to 2010’s <b><i>Postcards From A Young Man</i></b>. The buzz about new music from the band has yet to really take hold, so focus tonight is on a no bullshit straight-up greatest hits package, with a few surprises thrown in for good measure.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxuzTFP1UB1zoHjGRaqhYJR0tPBaN7MFQS0E_uFZ6jvgGaOBKX_r_N6uOPdLEG6iE7UCgFf4LRh56w2onUi1iHTd02-uUPgq0FBVVE4r0EUYU5HCxIfDq2N_PlC8R-QLolEqUuzKLtnVRT/s398/MANICS2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxuzTFP1UB1zoHjGRaqhYJR0tPBaN7MFQS0E_uFZ6jvgGaOBKX_r_N6uOPdLEG6iE7UCgFf4LRh56w2onUi1iHTd02-uUPgq0FBVVE4r0EUYU5HCxIfDq2N_PlC8R-QLolEqUuzKLtnVRT/s400/MANICS2.jpg" height="126" width="400" /></a>The biggest surprise however is not band-related so much, as their audience tonight. Whereas the Manics dial has most often been tuned somewhere between glittery glamour and muscular rock n’ roll, tonight the switch has been given a hefty shove towards the latter. The Manics found their inner brute in an effort perhaps to appeal more readily to the present boof-head contingent. This is after all a show designed to bring together the many rugby loving ex-pats in Melbourne as well as appease the already converted. But then it’s just like the Manics to pull a mob of beer-soaked lads and wags only to lead them in a cheery sing-a-long about tackling an anxiety disorder (<b><i>Send Away The Tigers</i></b>) or the evils of consumerism (<i><b>Motorcycle Emptiness</b></i>). <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggy2IDN1DErOHru4f3KHeIA3WV50Mv5oiGL2KNAKq7-lHaDB9xgs1xbEDSJj-baRQUGIDoeXpeI-c5QMEA0uPuX2kSC-Rkd7R5bmAqdum41NKZbQ55sxCHVjDsBYEULDPtGeYrfhhBDBo7/s275/MANICS.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggy2IDN1DErOHru4f3KHeIA3WV50Mv5oiGL2KNAKq7-lHaDB9xgs1xbEDSJj-baRQUGIDoeXpeI-c5QMEA0uPuX2kSC-Rkd7R5bmAqdum41NKZbQ55sxCHVjDsBYEULDPtGeYrfhhBDBo7/s275/MANICS.jpg" /></a>It may all have been a little ironic, but not in such a way as to spoil the glory of their performance. <b>James Dean Bradfield</b> – looking fiercely fit – commanded our attention in that remarkable voice of his, and remained the undisputed ringleader throughout. His spirits are notably up as he jokes and banters with the crowd and his band-mates, loving every minute of the gig and perhaps riding high on the knowledge that there’s no nerve-rattling 50-date tour penned in this time round. <b>Nicky Wire</b>, always the elegant, if not mouthy one, is however short on words and even shorter on his usual drag tonight. That is to say, we didn’t get a much anticipated sighting of those marvelous legs dangling down from beneath a netball skirt or some such, and had to make do with a mere sparkly unicorn decal on each cheek as compensation. Despite such setbacks, he still has the power to get a large number of fans swooning, and remains one rock’s most beautiful creatures.<br />
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In light of the band’s more recent overseas shows to promote their singles collection National Treasures, there is a somewhat retro feel about the song selection. There are a number of fans here who weren't born when <b><i>Generation Terrorists</i></b> came out, but it is the early tracks (<b><i>You Love Us</i></b>, <i><b>Motown Junk</b></i>) that get the biggest response. A now long tradition in Manics gigs is the acoustic interlude where James belts out <b><i>The Everlasting</i></b> - with full-crowd backing – only tonight we get the added bonus of some classic Bacharach in the form of <i><b>Can’t Take My Eyes Off You</b></i>. The surprise cover delights us all and sets up nicely a grand finale in the form of <b><i>Little Baby Nothing </i></b>– which featured a rather goofy looking Jamie Roberts of the British Lions as surprise guest on acoustic guitar – <b><i>Tsunami, Motown Junk </i></b>and <b><i>If You Tolerate This</i></b> bring the set to a blinding close. But as tradition dictates, there’s no encore despite James’ teasing us with the possibility. <br />
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The show was a full body saturation of the Manics power as a live band and even a somewhat sad reminder of how many genius songs they have in their canon which have been largely overlooked. For the devoted here though it was just not enough. The knowledge that it may be several years before they come back hangs heavy at the conclusion. Talking to fans outside the venue in the cold night air, there is a mix of elation and gloom. This was after all only the bands third visit to Australia in their 26 year career. Love for the Manics is so strong among those who invest in their songs and it’s the kind of devotion many bands could dream of. The reason being, they are a band you can care about and they mean something to people which – like their peerless stage presence witnessed tonight at Festival Hall – is something worth celebrating. <br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1R5iJk4MGra4sOWFMOzrVZ1yLF5daulgqTMN8kUsrPp8TsuoWF7Pf3ic6h3m3peAkvFDTCzw6VwygmkBrE_tGgAnsUSU7CZE6Vrr811-lYBPf_RxBIR_iYGm0S0g_IWz3qxRqQ8RZQpQ/s1600/Me+&+Nicky.JPG" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1R5iJk4MGra4sOWFMOzrVZ1yLF5daulgqTMN8kUsrPp8TsuoWF7Pf3ic6h3m3peAkvFDTCzw6VwygmkBrE_tGgAnsUSU7CZE6Vrr811-lYBPf_RxBIR_iYGm0S0g_IWz3qxRqQ8RZQpQ/s400/Me+&+Nicky.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b><i>meeting Nicky Wire</i></b></span></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxuzTFP1UB1zoHjGRaqhYJR0tPBaN7MFQS0E_uFZ6jvgGaOBKX_r_N6uOPdLEG6iE7UCgFf4LRh56w2onUi1iHTd02-uUPgq0FBVVE4r0EUYU5HCxIfDq2N_PlC8R-QLolEqUuzKLtnVRT/s398/MANICS2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggy2IDN1DErOHru4f3KHeIA3WV50Mv5oiGL2KNAKq7-lHaDB9xgs1xbEDSJj-baRQUGIDoeXpeI-c5QMEA0uPuX2kSC-Rkd7R5bmAqdum41NKZbQ55sxCHVjDsBYEULDPtGeYrfhhBDBo7/s275/MANICS.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS1R5iJk4MGra4sOWFMOzrVZ1yLF5daulgqTMN8kUsrPp8TsuoWF7Pf3ic6h3m3peAkvFDTCzw6VwygmkBrE_tGgAnsUSU7CZE6Vrr811-lYBPf_RxBIR_iYGm0S0g_IWz3qxRqQ8RZQpQ/s1600/Me+&+Nicky.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
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<span style="color: blue;"><b><span style="font-size: large;">FESTIVAL HALL SET-LIST (28/06/13<i>)</i></span></b></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue;"><b><span style="font-size: large;"><i> </i></span><i>Motorcycle Emptiness<br />Your Love Alone Is Not Enough<br />You Stole The Sun From My Heart<br />Ocean Spray<br />Australia<br />Suicide Is Painless<br />It's Not War (Just The End Of Love)<br />La Tristessa Durera (Scream To A Sigh)<br />Revol<br />Everything Must Go<br />Send Away The Tigers<br />A Design For Life<br />The Everlasting<br />Can't Take My Eyes Off You<br />You Love Us<br />Little Baby Nothing<br />Tsunami<br />Motown Junk<br />If You Tolerate This</i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3al1lla9QYBhx7Y6uBDpN5w4BzA_HmXrqwnKZaPUBSjj-BeBK847sDSWg_X-3_9pCtnF57Hjrq4kTTDQYlk8XMbwFb3KltP18kSMPQv6zeU1GMRSWdxQYg1SSw1J01wi41Ow-gK4pg3Wr/s1600/MANICS+TIX.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3al1lla9QYBhx7Y6uBDpN5w4BzA_HmXrqwnKZaPUBSjj-BeBK847sDSWg_X-3_9pCtnF57Hjrq4kTTDQYlk8XMbwFb3KltP18kSMPQv6zeU1GMRSWdxQYg1SSw1J01wi41Ow-gK4pg3Wr/s320/MANICS+TIX.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a> </div>
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-62714377716361478182013-03-12T13:10:00.001+11:002013-03-12T15:43:21.353+11:00The Stone Roses: live in Melbourne, 2013<h4>
<b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzrR44Sf1w8qSLo8avJmRo3fuKEgtGrhUqnK2MSrJ9LONjxs4nBx8nUtEBzS-BR_HZm4PeK2vOB74x8rqZb4r6xTVXl03bQXWZvSoZHYrnbPb4bj-cRf1SgCcUx6LLCM9xweHjTF6Yq23f/s1600/ROSES.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzrR44Sf1w8qSLo8avJmRo3fuKEgtGrhUqnK2MSrJ9LONjxs4nBx8nUtEBzS-BR_HZm4PeK2vOB74x8rqZb4r6xTVXl03bQXWZvSoZHYrnbPb4bj-cRf1SgCcUx6LLCM9xweHjTF6Yq23f/s320/ROSES.jpg" width="226" /></a><span style="color: orange;">Venue: Festival Hall</span></i></b><span style="color: orange;"><b><i><br />Date: 07/03/2013</i></b></span></h4>
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<b>For their sideshow in the 'Manchester of Australia' – as Mani once lovingly dubbed Melbourne - Stone Roses demonstrated that when they're good, they are very fucking good indeed. It's widely known that the lads have a patchy past in terms of pulling off great live shows, but that along with their music in general seems to be a thing of the past. It isn't terribly surprising that there is no new music from the band tonight, but at one stage during his almost flawless performance, Ian Brown hints at a future for the Stone Roses beyond the current reunion gigs.</b><br />
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Re-emerging in late 2011 to tour was a great move considering how closely guarded a secret it was that the band were even on speaking terms again, but Ian mentioning possible new songs without presenting any comes off as a bit of a bluff. Not that anybody could complain about the almost 20 year-old setlist which ignores most of <i><b>The Second Coming</b></i> in favour of <i>that </i>album. As debuts go, <i><b>The Stone Roses</b></i> simply could not be beaten. Not even by The Stones Roses themselves in fact. What is interesting though is how each song from the album performed is so very different to anything that did not make the cut. Early singles like <i><b>Sally Cinnamon</b></i> and several of the b-side tracks performed are all distinct in that they don't quite have the same magic as the material off the album. Of course there is one colossal exception to this rule. Nobody here at Festy tonight could argue that <b><i>Fools Gold </i></b>– a song they initially threw away as a freakin' b-side – was not the absolute highlight. <br />
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<b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VwUobBGHICBYkE8ehuTPb7rAs8SdAYxqFdE2CEjwDxPIdJHhBRbRjvdYH8RQpnq7PnlWbt3DlbwX92W5PKFwc4j172iHrJb22qvArrWaSalpB4scq5wfT22m9TnYTO84yFMXz0GIUlpN/s1600/ROSES2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5VwUobBGHICBYkE8ehuTPb7rAs8SdAYxqFdE2CEjwDxPIdJHhBRbRjvdYH8RQpnq7PnlWbt3DlbwX92W5PKFwc4j172iHrJb22qvArrWaSalpB4scq5wfT22m9TnYTO84yFMXz0GIUlpN/s1600/ROSES2.jpg" /></a>Fools Gold</i></b> the song is of course great and was the band's most successful track, but live in concert, it is a whole other level of genius. It begins with <b>Reni </b>teasing us with a few pitchy cymbal smacks while <b>Mani</b> plucks out a slightly menacing, fat bass line which he maintains for the entire 13 minutes. Then, when <b>John Squire</b> begins the hook that kicked off <b>Madchester </b>and the whole rave-rock shebang, the crowd completely lose it. Why this song works so well live is because of the combo of <b>Mani </b>and <b>Reni </b>as a rhythm section, but there's also much to love about Squire's unpredictable guitar playing and the soft echo of Brown's voice, surfacing occasionally in the mix. It's a cliché, but this really was Stone Roses at their most untouchable. So they serve up their 'it's funk Jim, but not as we know it' monster half way though the set tonight, leaving many here wondering just what they must be planning for an encore. But then, the answer could be found all along written on the back of <b><i>The Stone Roses</i></b> album sleeve. <br />
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Opening the show with <i><b>I Wanna Be Adored</b></i> – just as the debut album began – sets up a kind of 'running order' formula they only occasionally divert from. <b><i>Ten Storey Love Song </i></b>from <b><i>The Second Coming</i></b> is the first real shift, and while it isn't a bad tune, it's no <b><i>Love Spreads</i></b>. The strongest cut from the 'difficult second album' heralds one hell of a hit-fest. <b><i>She Bangs The Drums</i></b> – a song that too often fails in a live setting, emerges as one of the strongest tonight as it leaps out at us with every gun blazing and is rewarded with the biggest sing-a-long moment.<b><i> This Is The One</i></b> stands out as the 'one that really should have been a hit', and Brown is completely loving the all arms raised crowd response. It should be noted that a lot goes on around Ian during the gig and he makes for fascinating viewing. The expression 'calm like a bomb' comes to mind as he does his famous monkey shuffle dance, elbows stuck out horizontally as he bobs his head and glares out into the crowd. One moment he is almost whispering a trance-like mantra, the next he's inaudibly blasting a sound tech or hurling a full rubbish bin off stage at a security bloke for getting too physical with one of the fans.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2QhYmSvKFGYbOm1CyBJpyU7JbOlHGNWTJhkCfjJl4UMs6wY23nEluCaEOjL16nOyzBYJwYkBZmFttwugFAEWtWbvARPH-lsXRuCtBWQNA-jXC9MbVvVN1uXAeLGKMZDsRdrWDEVXfvGf/s1600/ROSES4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="91" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv2QhYmSvKFGYbOm1CyBJpyU7JbOlHGNWTJhkCfjJl4UMs6wY23nEluCaEOjL16nOyzBYJwYkBZmFttwugFAEWtWbvARPH-lsXRuCtBWQNA-jXC9MbVvVN1uXAeLGKMZDsRdrWDEVXfvGf/s400/ROSES4.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
Meanwhile, <b>Mani</b> – usually the mouthy one – remains the very picture of blissed out concentration, while Squire refuses to even look up from his shoes. Drummer Reni on the other hand is starring in his own movie up there behind his kit, which is adorned in 'Roses-esque lemon slices. It's quite telling how the band members' each seem so lost in their own worlds during the show. Their tense interpersonal relations have surely healed over time, but perhaps not entirely. There is a definite sense of 'we're back together because of the music', which they show absolute solidarity in. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnIEFwhvxRNN8wLpSmEauNIjDiIebmgOMyeMzaW9wiEhfuEtZYXABVu-Bcr-_0Z8ASyXedWJZvXONOH2UpaN9WMso2GtS9Y9BsDLPFZJa9VXM8gi71uXGRj2IyuzeDOUOeKoiQ3U2CDQ3/s1600/ROSES5.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="172" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnIEFwhvxRNN8wLpSmEauNIjDiIebmgOMyeMzaW9wiEhfuEtZYXABVu-Bcr-_0Z8ASyXedWJZvXONOH2UpaN9WMso2GtS9Y9BsDLPFZJa9VXM8gi71uXGRj2IyuzeDOUOeKoiQ3U2CDQ3/s200/ROSES5.jpg" width="200" /></a>Tonight, it was a very different Stone Roses to the band who were booed off stage at Reading in 1996 and quickly dissolved in a whimper. The reunion shows have clearly been a chance for the Roses to not only bury a few hatchets but also to change the history book entry on a band that seemed so vital before success ultimately dug them an early grave. But here at one of the most unlikely reunion concerts ever, Stone Roses conclude their set with a song almost perfectly designed for such an occasion - <i><b>I Am the Resurrection.</b></i> It is a triumph and it, along with nearly every song that preceded it, proves that they had never really lost 'it'. There is no encore as the work had all been done by the finish of <b><i>Resurrection</i></b>. Instead they close the show with group hug, a bow and a shower of praise for all who'd stuck by them. For us fans it's been a long and unlikely wait for tonight, but nobody who turned up to Festy Hall could claim it wasn't all worth it. <br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><u><b>FESTIVAL HALL SET-LIST (07/03/13)</b></u></span><br />
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>I Wanna Be Adored</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Mersey Paradise</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Sugar Spun Sister</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Sally Cinnamon</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Ten Storey Love Song</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Where Angels Play</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Shoot You Down</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Fools Gold</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Waterfall</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Don't Stop</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Made Of Stone</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>This Is The One</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Love Spreads</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>She Bangs The Drums</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>I Am The Resurrection</b></i></span><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b> </b></i></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojZn5DtgyASc-RNusFJyJqSL7W4znamHpU6seh_PUTSlnyUNNrDJECbdJv5Y3XsTIECqhTbHV3Xs9zo369YCVSFy_GQ2or4RNBgOvJC1DfdqwMijf16-NfBLtLNbLm8e__k1lJacJ197L/s1600/Me+&+John+Squire.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiojZn5DtgyASc-RNusFJyJqSL7W4znamHpU6seh_PUTSlnyUNNrDJECbdJv5Y3XsTIECqhTbHV3Xs9zo369YCVSFy_GQ2or4RNBgOvJC1DfdqwMijf16-NfBLtLNbLm8e__k1lJacJ197L/s320/Me+&+John+Squire.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><b>Meeting John Squire!</b></i></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #0b5394;"><i><br /></i></span>lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-13412351521935849612013-02-25T12:44:00.003+11:002013-02-25T12:53:09.748+11:00Einstürzende Neubauten live in Melbourne, 2013 (review)<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-bQgJD-Vm0sJe3_o_LUHwkWgRuTnIvOLLp1wKjbMJAw8ATm4H-7oBQzo280KhwToK7uhSd8DJLXRUxQ2gwfbuJMXiwirsfGzKw0BvJg6xP9deTazqP1oDL9Q-SrbCQm022lLb4vc495O4/s1600/ENLIVE.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-bQgJD-Vm0sJe3_o_LUHwkWgRuTnIvOLLp1wKjbMJAw8ATm4H-7oBQzo280KhwToK7uhSd8DJLXRUxQ2gwfbuJMXiwirsfGzKw0BvJg6xP9deTazqP1oDL9Q-SrbCQm022lLb4vc495O4/s400/ENLIVE.jpg" width="400" /></a>Venue: The Palace<br />Date: 19/02/2013</i></b></span></span><br />
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The excitement of what to expect from one of the world’s most unusual and notoriously ‘challenging’ bands begins as soon as I enter the Palace and catch sight of the darkened stage. One almost expects to see emergency relief workers attempting to deal with a recent ceiling collapse that occurred as some band had been setting up their gear. The sight of a few recognisable instruments jutting out among PVC tubing and compromised steel wreckage creates a sinister image. Although it’s just another gig for <b>Einsturzende</b> <b>Neubauten</b>, it is essentially anybody’s guess what terrifying racket the monstrosities before us will create once the Berlin band begin to hit, throw, rattle and blow into them. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1JpIFx8N6aXUfz0k0XAUzrvzEx3vyvkUBielkX4hnRhtmmz9iTT0BqpFhEJZt2uod8wv2OI1cEm8CTH90OvC7V7SlXbc4hyZbGsQslSnEA19zTslnOKNMfmTtBx1MR_ahy7typXhCJJ8/s1600/ENLIVE2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid1JpIFx8N6aXUfz0k0XAUzrvzEx3vyvkUBielkX4hnRhtmmz9iTT0BqpFhEJZt2uod8wv2OI1cEm8CTH90OvC7V7SlXbc4hyZbGsQslSnEA19zTslnOKNMfmTtBx1MR_ahy7typXhCJJ8/s1600/ENLIVE2.jpg" /></a>For long-time followers of Neubauten, many things have changed considerably over the course of their 33-year career, and yet a few have not. A wrecked shopping cart, masses of wire coils and front-man <b>Blixa</b> <b>Bargeld</b>’s banshee-like scream equal familiarity, but whereas Bargeld once held court in leather bondage gear and a haircut that looked as though he had been attacked by a stylist with cerebral palsy, he now more closely resembles a pre-Jenny Craig campaign <b>Barry Humphries</b> in all his dandy-ish finery. Gone also is the guitar he once brutally assaulted - and occasionally played as a member of the <b>Bad Seeds </b>- and the earth shattering electric-hammer. All this means very little however to what is a thrilling career retrospective which never feels lacking despite the aborted, more cacophonous instrumentation. <br />
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Song wise, the band choose a lesser-played set for Melbourne - Blixa’s second home for many years. Although we miss out on gems like <b><i>Halber Mensch</i></b> and <b><i>The Garden </i></b>there is still plenty to get roused over. <b><i>Headcleaner </i></b>goes where a lot of Neubauten songs only hint at and for that reason it stands as their true monster-piece. Played in three parts - two brutal, one mellow - it’s a relentless insanity-inducing brain hammering, that teases us with short bursts of calm only to come round again for another pummeling. <b><i>Die</i></b> <b><i>Interimsliebenden </i></b>ebs towards ‘one you can almost dance to’ but instead evokes some more suitable head-banging from the packed crowd. <i><b>Armenia </b></i>is played to demonstrate Bargeld’s signature horror-screech to it’s fullest, and allow custom-made instrumentalist<b> Andrew Chudy</b> to show off an impressive range of percussive flostum, including a bucket of metal scrap which he showers onto an amplified plate near stage front. It’s during Chudy’s carefree hurling of dangerous objects that the venue security become visibly alarmed and brace for possible intervention. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSXcuGJEccEi9XatXU1hf2XYzfamHg8m_UbW-ZJUi4e9az-Srqj8X3YE23e9wdCjBdKRKAKZJFIELVhQjA7pbHPpLR-g7UDZfm4pHFKmHjrk4DrlU9GcEPUMVmKMOIZ3lQuvQPEJsQyZp/s1600/ENLIVE5.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghSXcuGJEccEi9XatXU1hf2XYzfamHg8m_UbW-ZJUi4e9az-Srqj8X3YE23e9wdCjBdKRKAKZJFIELVhQjA7pbHPpLR-g7UDZfm4pHFKmHjrk4DrlU9GcEPUMVmKMOIZ3lQuvQPEJsQyZp/s1600/ENLIVE5.jpg" /></a>For <b>Bargeld </b>however, the tense moments are not during the crashing of metal on metal or glass on metal but rather when one note is played off key in the sombre <b><i>Sabrina</i></b>, completely throwing the singer into a very visual tantrum. It’s a very telling moment on how much Bargeld requires total perfection from his band when he berates keyboardist <b>Ash Wednesday </b>and insists they begin the song again from the top. The apparently short temper and commanding presence of Bargeld make him a fascinating subject to fix eyes on throughout the melee that is happening on stage. The lack of guitar means that he is free to mess around with various objects throughout the show and as such add libs with a loud-hailer, a drill with a vinyl record attached to the bit and various voice-enhancing gizmos. Though if there’s another, equally bright star on stage, it has to be drummer <b>Rudolf Moser</b>. His kit is the perfect enviable big boy’s toy. Much bigger than probably required and composed of chunky wire coils, steel cylinders and saw blades - it ranks as the coolest thing ever seen at a concert. Ever. <br />
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It’s impossible to end this review without mentioning the biggest and best non-drum kit related part to Neubauten’s show; the catharsis of sheer non-conventional expression through screams and grinding machines clashing with sounds so intimate, they are little more than a whisper in your ear, or - as is the case of <b><i>Silence Is Sexy</i> </b>- a drag on an amplified cigarette. <br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div>
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<span style="color: #073763;"><b><u>PALACE SET-LIST:</u></b></span> <br />
<b><i><span style="color: #0b5394;"><br />Ein Leichtes Leises Säuseln<br />Die Befindlichkeit des Landes<br />Von wegen<br />Die Interimsliebenden<br />Dead Friends<br />Unvollständigkeit<br />Youme & Meyou<br />Let's Do It a Dada<br />Haus der Lüge<br />Rampe<br />Armenia<br />Sabrina<br />Susej<br />Headcleaner<br /><br />Encore:<br />Silence Is Sexy<br />Redukt</span></i></b><br />
<br />lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-92126005925655584652013-01-30T00:34:00.001+11:002013-01-30T00:38:42.983+11:00Lisa Gerrard (Dead Can Dance) Interview: 2013<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<b><br /></b><b>While somewhat distracted by the possibility of having to evacuate, Lisa Gerrard from her home in Gippsland, is watching the threatening orange glow of near-by bushfires while valiantly remaining focused on the task promoting the first Dead Can Dance album in 16 years. An impending home-land tour in which the release - <i>Anastasis </i>- will be performed in full is also going ahead now the singer's recent throat-bothering flu has been beaten 'just in time'. “I was seriously close to having to cancel the shows... all that time spent in aeroplanes is what made me sick.” Gerrard has just returned home from Argentina, one of the many non-Anglo countries where her band - a 30 year-long partnership between herself and one-time husband, Brendan Perry - are lauded as musical icons. Yet despite forming in the Melbourne suburb of Prahran, Australia has long remained their final frontier in terms of wide spread acceptance.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaDCdogzPv5LAKqc3nX2CYvXgTur004uLkT3QQnUXlWV8yoDBYfJlohBTvN59tQcU-l2F96inB7HQjFnwsZpn9Xr1t8Ib4AULs5eLgWKxH9B-k0BAt3Ccc84n9QdHSXCZOSzvhhHh2TLP/s1600/DCD5.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzaDCdogzPv5LAKqc3nX2CYvXgTur004uLkT3QQnUXlWV8yoDBYfJlohBTvN59tQcU-l2F96inB7HQjFnwsZpn9Xr1t8Ib4AULs5eLgWKxH9B-k0BAt3Ccc84n9QdHSXCZOSzvhhHh2TLP/s320/DCD5.jpg" width="209" /></a>“Somebody once asked me, 'why don't we make Australian music'?”, A mental 'face-palm' hangs in the air as Gerrard begins. “It was as if we had to tick certain boxes to be considered Australian.” The daughter of Irish immigrants remembers this throw-away question posed to her long ago, and which has bugged her since. But to argue the case for Dead Can Dance's place in the Australian music scheme, she need only have retorted with <b>AC/DC</b>'s Scottish-ness, or <b>Crowded House</b>'s Kiwi-ness for effect. “Basically what they were asking was, why don't we sound like a white suburban band, which is after all what we were!” In fact the Prahran which Lisa left behind in 1982 for the excitement and uncertainty of London, provided the ideal foundation for what would become Dead Can Dance. Gerrard recalls unfamiliar and exotic languages and most importantly, music in abundance in the tiny suburban street. “So many of our neighbours were a mix of Greek and Turkish immigrants, many of who couldn't speak English very well, if at all, and because their sort of connection to the countries they had left behind was this very traditional music, it would blasting out of their windows on a hot night.”</div>
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The title of the new album, <b><i>Anastasis</i></b>, translates (from Greek) as 'resurrected'. Apart from the obvious self-reference following their long break, it could also relate to Dead Can Dance's choice of gear. They employ instruments so ancient their true origins have been forever blurred by time as they changed hands along the Silk Road. Gerrard meanwhile has often sung in a curious, non-specific language; resulting in a suitably inclusive form of expression. “When I was growing up, you didn't get Irish people speaking Italian or Greek or anything like that, so my experience of hearing these other languages on a daily basis meant I could just listen to the tones and patterns and there was a kind of music to that in itself.” She adds, “The Irish have a strong tradition of story-telling and so to me singing without using words to tell a story was such an exotic idea.” Once the foundation for what Dead Can Dance would become was set in place, Lisa and then live-in boyfriend<b> Brendan Perry</b> re-established themselves in London during 1982 at the height of post-punk only to find themselves suddenly starved of the cultural diversity they had become so used to.<br />
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“We were in this very poor, white part of London for a time in this council flat and it was quite depressing when we first arrived.” Gerrard recalls, “But we kind of lived as though we were in this private school by spending all our time in the local libraries and music archives, just absorbing all this literature and music which was beyond what we could have found in Australia. Our own identity really began to develop from that time, so ultimately it wasn't wasted time.” After signing a deal with <b>4AD</b>, Dead Can Dance quickly established their niche throughout the '80s and '90s as a 'world fusion' band. Releases like <b><i>Into The Labyrinth</i></b> and <i><b>The Serpent's Egg</b></i> became celebrated classics, and even drew the attention of Hollywood. During DCD's hiatus, Gerrard became an award-winning film-score composer in her own right, and along the way found time to establish her own label, Gerrard Records, with generosity as the driving force. “I wanted to be able to give more to artists signed to my label than I was given when we were on <b>4AD</b>.” She explains, “That was the idea, but by the time everyone involved grabs a piece of the action, there's really nothing left. I wanted my artists to feel liberated to work on their music and not have to worry about money, you know. I mean when I think about the amount of dough that <b>4AD </b>made out of us when we had so little... it's kind of criminal!”<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOuyE-Pro_K-YtPw9qaLXgNXMK2GxVEdDrR-tfBCHxz_QKzBaHHL_DzCOgLkwAdV_k4F9KKWDEcZN0Ovrc9lF_ycdwcF7TPxU5NpX-VpNYySPJIXdMnvYOgmbX_CWiwKb5G19HkAQEyvD/s1600/DCD4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBOuyE-Pro_K-YtPw9qaLXgNXMK2GxVEdDrR-tfBCHxz_QKzBaHHL_DzCOgLkwAdV_k4F9KKWDEcZN0Ovrc9lF_ycdwcF7TPxU5NpX-VpNYySPJIXdMnvYOgmbX_CWiwKb5G19HkAQEyvD/s1600/DCD4.jpg" /></a>Categorising Dead Can Dance's music may be a frustrating task for genreists - and the new album will do nothing to change this – but at it's core, <i><b>Anastasis </b></i>is less 'viva la difference' and more about what connects us all across language and cultural barriers. It's a concept album in that sense, and will be performed in full during this tour. “It is important that in concert the work is allowed to tell its whole story. I think it takes on a life of its own that way.” Gerrard explains, “We used a lot of organic instruments on the recording, but touring with a full orchestra wasn't practical. Brendan plays a variety of instruments, and I play my <b>Yangqin</b> and dulcimers... but I think the main detail in our music is the cavernous, 'big sound' that we do. It's very much about creating a landscape of sound when we play live... It's how our music is best enjoyed I think.”<br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div>
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-22865526243084730192012-12-11T17:39:00.000+11:002012-12-12T03:41:21.037+11:00Mike Scott (The Waterboys) interview: 2012<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvExlHuxFTiq9fXham2gWo3kBWnsEwI8o9d3OKocwEmRhwGToAe7xPk1S6NtBQu_WkcOFRNE9fiZDVke5Oihcib3lUv7TnMHJyC0ouTurGi1bduS4O7Io6oaTUim4lYvckLk9l__dKuIjR/s1600/WATERBOYS2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvExlHuxFTiq9fXham2gWo3kBWnsEwI8o9d3OKocwEmRhwGToAe7xPk1S6NtBQu_WkcOFRNE9fiZDVke5Oihcib3lUv7TnMHJyC0ouTurGi1bduS4O7Io6oaTUim4lYvckLk9l__dKuIjR/s400/WATERBOYS2.jpg" width="400" /></a>STOR<span style="font-size: x-large;">IES</span> FROM THE SEA</i></b></span></span></div>
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<b>Mike Scott is so much the archetypal quirky, poetry-obsessed troubadour, it's as though he was written into being by the very scribes who inspired his love of words. As a young man, the Scottish-born singer made no real distinction between the value of The Beatles or Bob Dylan and the poets CS Lewis and WB Yeats as artists. They simply all wound up in his pot, along with a well-considered fascination with paganism and non-religious spirituality, which resulted in The Waterboys; a band he has remained the sole ongoing member of the 30 years now. Over the course of ten albums, Mike explored in great depth several points of fascination, but arguably none more than the work of poet, William Butler Yeats. To understand the impact of Yeats on Scott's work, you only need delve into a random selection of Waterboys songs. The early 20th century Irish poet's own interests – paganism, the occult - heavily reflect those of Scott's greatest works, so when The Waterboys released an entire album of Yeats' words set to music last year, it was somewhat inevitable. Discussing the album – <i>An Appointment With Mr Yeats</i> - and the tour, which will include Australia for the first time, Scott from his adopted home (and Yeat's birthplace), Dublin, is finding the concept of embarking on new terrain strange and delightful.</b><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKInSModkR2KZv5TNEefLnTqnNu9v9ukxaU_8hgZiLlF_YCpwGz9SsdUkyOIhBQ1MVIhdKAfBMgCRMgn2_a_4SMxNe3J9rD-1tNQEh5Gqpv5XfJOhjLKaSR774jXIiRWPqTRSF958h2rU/s1600/WATERBOYS3.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKInSModkR2KZv5TNEefLnTqnNu9v9ukxaU_8hgZiLlF_YCpwGz9SsdUkyOIhBQ1MVIhdKAfBMgCRMgn2_a_4SMxNe3J9rD-1tNQEh5Gqpv5XfJOhjLKaSR774jXIiRWPqTRSF958h2rU/s320/WATERBOYS3.jpg" width="217" /></a>“I only have a vague outsiders perspective of Australia, but I do also have a kind of expectation I guess.” He explains, anticipating his impending visit. “I completely expect my preconceptions to be shattered, but that's the exciting thing about travelling to new places.” His band's invitation to bring their <b><i>Appointment With Mr Yeats</i></b> show to the Sydney Festival prompted a long-overdue full major cities tour. On the origin of The Waterboys' <b><i>Yeats </i></b>project, Scott explains, it was an idea planted within his psyche from a young age. “I knew about Yeats when I was ten or eleven, because my mum was, and still is a university lecturer in English and she would often mention this Yeats guy, but I didn't start to really focus on him until I was in my teens. At the same time, I was discovering music and the two things were very closely linked for me, and still are.” He recalls, “But I envisioned doing this show as long ago as 1991, so it only took me 21 years to make it a reality.” While developing his style, Scott was not only drawn to the poets his mother lectured about, but also literature on maritime symbolism, faeries and folk music which set his band well apart from many of their British contemporaries in the '80s.<br />
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Yet in the post-punk era, The Waterboys managed to remain accessible, however traditional their influences, and even found themselves lumped in with the media-hyped Scottish '<b>Big Music</b>' scene along with <b>Simple Minds</b>, <b>Big Country</b> and <b>World Party</b>. Big Music was at the time defined simply enough as having 'big, powerful choruses in the vein of <b>U2</b>'. Scott, however was far from interested in contemporary Edinburgh. Preferring instead to split his time between Dublin and New York, environments which inspired his writing as much as any book of verse. “Dublin in the 1908s was such a wonderful place to come home to after being on tour. It's where I wrote a lot of The Waterboys songs and the music for the Yeats poems, but also I've found that New York has had a profound effect on my work. It's this huge melting pot of all the world's music, and is a place where I feel quite creatively unrestrained.” By the time The Waterboys had released their third and most successful album, <b><i>This Is The Sea </i></b>in 1985, they had already introduced listeners to Celtic folklore, Native American Indian rites, political scrutiny and pre-religious spirituality. The latter, a topic which has often been widely mis-interpreted by groups claiming Waterboys to be both Christian and heathen, depending on who you ask.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EweIH69AqDEQlfDwQDZYQ8l03NbDU7ZvghDGZxj22EI_G3ymVBC3hoNeYcnqfTFAzNdNMnqy99SjAcfugfiUdn0PDOG2PZWFRKqMZkxnQ3P2aGwHTfKA3fpuChQfuzey7oJQZGVNoGMY/s1600/WATERBOYS4.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_EweIH69AqDEQlfDwQDZYQ8l03NbDU7ZvghDGZxj22EI_G3ymVBC3hoNeYcnqfTFAzNdNMnqy99SjAcfugfiUdn0PDOG2PZWFRKqMZkxnQ3P2aGwHTfKA3fpuChQfuzey7oJQZGVNoGMY/s200/WATERBOYS4.jpg" width="200" /></a>“I never subscribed to any religion. I always found magic to be much more interesting. When I was in my early 20s, I discovered spiritual literature and found there was a much greater depth to non-religious ideas about the world.” The deity Pan, from Greek mythology, is a favourite of Scott's, turning up in a number of songs (<b><i>The Return Of Pan</i></b>, <i><b>The Pan Within</b></i>), he discusses, “To me Pan represents our connection to one another and to nature. A lot of Christian religion seems to be about escapism, but Pan is a reminder to me that being connected is what's important.” Amongst the magic and mythology, on one occasion Waterboys did weigh-in on then current issues. <b><i>Old England</i></b> - an anti-Thatcher statement, put Scott among the many writers to 'turn political' in the '80s. “Well no bands emerged because of Thatcher and her government, but many songwriters were driven by a hatred of her. All I can say is, I wasn't immune.” While his ability with words seemed clear cut to the listener, Scott's signature tune - <b><i>The Whole Of The Moon</i></b> - was an admittance of the author's inadequacy, as he saw it, compared with 'the master writers'. <b>CS Lewis</b> is often cited as the song's inspiration, as is 18th century lyricist, <b>Robert Burns</b>. Burns - the Scottish poet, who is credited with penning the original New Year's party anthem, <b><i>Auld Lang Syne </i></b>- was renowned for adapting old folk tales into his 'contemporary' lyrics; a tradition that Scott has carried on.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzXy6Ul64s1NDfGir9nNx2Z8Vdwy7E6C5qliKSAYQUjukc84UmMcC-260z7QVtnFbvXjX4NQQh_Z2o2uhlxb2Okdj4gatZ0Ft_D7G20Q44euM6jLk5IvBUZqD2SbexB2NDJXvti5huFB_9/s1600/WATERBOYS.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="120" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzXy6Ul64s1NDfGir9nNx2Z8Vdwy7E6C5qliKSAYQUjukc84UmMcC-260z7QVtnFbvXjX4NQQh_Z2o2uhlxb2Okdj4gatZ0Ft_D7G20Q44euM6jLk5IvBUZqD2SbexB2NDJXvti5huFB_9/s200/WATERBOYS.jpg" width="200" /></a>“I recently wrote my autobiography, and you know... what I found is that I have learned so much from making music and being musician, but it never stops. It's like everything I've written is me working towards something that I only glimpse now and then. I need to read to make me feel like I am living a full life, and writing is less a decision I make – it's more a task really... but I have to do it so I can know what lies ahead.” A lyric from Scott's, <b><i>A Pagan Place</i></b>; <i>Drink my soul dry/There is always more</i> – seems to describe a triumphant writer, never in fear of failing in his work. However, Mike points out, autobiographical it isn't. “That should be read as; the more you give, the more you get back. If you're willing to be fearless, you can always give more. I try to live by that rule.”<br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b><br />
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-70121610802001631022012-11-17T01:25:00.000+11:002012-11-17T01:52:39.166+11:00Blixa Bargeld (Einstürzende Neubauten) interview: 2012<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOVZ-vc6OGCI66dZAmA8aRM_PUuEIXHicf0EGwsoXThEyDvHEI9zCIUlzQCvdrBYu52rdVlqIsLeMOjGJu1f1x2pdm_smGpxmL8zaMZyHzA8iS96ME21CA23Zp1uOFCbRppAmRdjh8Uuv/s1600/BLIXA7.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjOVZ-vc6OGCI66dZAmA8aRM_PUuEIXHicf0EGwsoXThEyDvHEI9zCIUlzQCvdrBYu52rdVlqIsLeMOjGJu1f1x2pdm_smGpxmL8zaMZyHzA8iS96ME21CA23Zp1uOFCbRppAmRdjh8Uuv/s400/BLIXA7.jpg" width="347" /></a><span style="color: orange; font-size: x-large;"><i><b>ENGEL OF CONSTRUCTION</b></i></span></div>
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<b>Ear, nose and throat specialists everywhere would probably cut off a limb for the chance to examine Blixa Bargeld. Nowhere short of an old miner's club would they find a better study of the long-term effects of industrial noise pollution on the human body. His signature 'inward scream' alone has meant scarring of the larynx and multiple throat nodules are a constant companion. “I have many, many doctors calling me... all the time.” Further more, for the last 32 years, the original 'grinder-man' has been flanked by more eardrum-punishing power tools than most tradies would see in a lifetime as leader of the - quite literally - industrial Berlin group, Einstürzende Neubauten.</b> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPEDVqw11MIwkrneo97lXTZWgoB6ivlPCxvhfjQRD3WAE2U7-RQRpiBNk3xNW_LerhRwlPioNiY2F1EgnvTyStjIyj7MwfQ7XnefXckBCz3_kagLaBGpfiwzs_g8QkiuwJh0mCsV8xIrf/s1600/BLIXA13.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSPEDVqw11MIwkrneo97lXTZWgoB6ivlPCxvhfjQRD3WAE2U7-RQRpiBNk3xNW_LerhRwlPioNiY2F1EgnvTyStjIyj7MwfQ7XnefXckBCz3_kagLaBGpfiwzs_g8QkiuwJh0mCsV8xIrf/s200/BLIXA13.jpg" width="200" /></a>Bargeld and his band of racket-mongers are Australia bound for next year's All Tomorrow's Parties festival, and as a former long-term <b>Bad Seed</b>, Blixa, who's services to Mr Cave's ceased in 2003, is keen to get back. “I haven't been to Australia since we (the Bad Seeds) recorded <i><b>Nocturama</b></i>, but there was a time when I was there for a few months out of every year.” Bargeld begins via our Skpe conversation, “I can't talk on the phone... I am the same as Nick (Cave) in that regard. If this was a phone interview, it would be over in about 5 minutes, I can promise you that. I love Skype though, I can stay home and still see who I am talking to. In the past I would have to get on a plane and get flown to meet the journalist... that is how much I hate talking on the phone. This is better hmm ...Don't you think?” From his rather cold, clinical office/study room, <b>Blixa Bargeld</b> comes across as a man who has heard it all before, and many times. Bizarre rumours and legendary stories about his band's activities have elevated them to cult icons among fans of industrial, new wave and experimental music. But Bargeld himself is most contented by the fact that there really is no other band like his. “You have heard of this thing called 'google notification', yes?” He asks without waiting for my answer, “Well I find it very amusing to see what context Neubauten is mentioned on the internet.... and it is usually in reviews for albums by bands I have never heard of... 'these guys sound like a cross between Neubauten and some other thing'.... Many bands have been compared to us, but at least I am 'not like anything else' or Neubauten are not 'like' X, Y, Z bands out there.”</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPf7hYnIGKGaXpp9o0rjZ-mo96QtV5I0mQyZ86tn9X9sP32qmxE83TWy_4xH6BSVTrgg9qoA2encQuJkxvAgGkuEbXkPkCo4uLHyNN3rG43W8Z6U0yOGOF-Arag924D17l2NyAFYY_Trk/s1600/BLIXA9.gif" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguPf7hYnIGKGaXpp9o0rjZ-mo96QtV5I0mQyZ86tn9X9sP32qmxE83TWy_4xH6BSVTrgg9qoA2encQuJkxvAgGkuEbXkPkCo4uLHyNN3rG43W8Z6U0yOGOF-Arag924D17l2NyAFYY_Trk/s200/BLIXA9.gif" width="200" /></a>It's a fact that Neubauten didn't have any kind of pre-existing blueprint to work from. Their music was devised from a combination of the band member's imaginations and found objects in the form of power tools, shopping trolleys, suspension coils and building site waste. Although Blixa finds it is near impossible to explain how his band found a way to compose cohesive music with no instruments, musical training or influences, he offers, “All I can tell you is, when we make music we always have done so with the idea that you don't think about it, you react to it. You listen and you add to what each person in the band is creating on his own... It was never about artistic decisions. We never decided to get our instruments from building sites, they were the only things we could get our hands on. We had no money for new instruments or any of that sort of thing. You could say that for a band from West Berlin, this way of finding materials to use for music was easy. There was still so much urban decay in the early '80s which became a resource for us when we were starting out. I always thought that it was strange that more bands hadn't thought to do something like what we were doing with so many materials just left to rust.” Blixa speaks passionately about his memory of Berlin as a city divided. In his sector, wreck and ruin were a part of everyday life and whether consciously or not, it influenced his unique form of expression. <b>Einstürzende Neubauten</b> were simply born out of a very human need to create when destruction is seemingly all prevailing. As we talk about his youth spent scavenging in his neighbourhood's many gutted buildings, Blixa occasionally glances out of his window at Berlin: the 2012 Model.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBFtJICXa4vCrLUECH0RUOLUI3vsG5dG5vKXLd48mZDkCb6zWqxvmHFylBKUu0WrPT6qdHKt2shQqm5VAgFjQXzceyzaoPq8QBrzqCxYHD79UEOjEa_LZuTW8FjwY5Uti1uI8Lcvw7Pw6J/s1600/BLIXA3.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBFtJICXa4vCrLUECH0RUOLUI3vsG5dG5vKXLd48mZDkCb6zWqxvmHFylBKUu0WrPT6qdHKt2shQqm5VAgFjQXzceyzaoPq8QBrzqCxYHD79UEOjEa_LZuTW8FjwY5Uti1uI8Lcvw7Pw6J/s400/BLIXA3.png" width="400" /></a> “I don't recognise this place any more.” He says, deflecting attention from himself. “When the Wall came down it looked as though <b>World War II </b>had only just ended the week before. It's all gentrified now and it is taking its toll on this city. It used to be so much cheaper to live here than most other European cities, and Berlin suddenly became very appealing for the wealthy to move to. It's like being in a brand new city now.” His tone of voice suggests Blixa would be quite happy if the shiny new apartment blocks and multiplexes indeed did collapse, as his band's name - which translates as <b>Collapsed New Buildings</b> - would suggest. It doesn't even feel like a stretch of the imagination to think Neubauten are driven either by love of, or a desire to punish architecture as if its perfect dimensions and stubborn inflexibility is both admirable and an affront to them. Either way, from their debut album <b><i>Kollaps </i></b>to 2005 release <i><b>Anarchitektur</b></i>, the subject is hard to avoid when browsing their catalogue. Perhaps it is this particular fascination that has fueled the endless wild stories about Neubauten's alleged venue-destroying live shows. Some stories are even true, but reminding Blixa of the often-referenced jack-hammering of Manchester's <b>Hacienda</b> club's ceiling support beams at an early show, has him battle-worn.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNoRmVqCZiC1gUkjCIsrDM06S20zul7DBoHOS8PpfbbCUSKS5iGF64_q45lfw-qbJ7wYugDCYCFqs6Y3ZEn8FDh81w9yDTEoPqmHqpwPKz6FQSPRILVpagi6IGOXQeDm5YV7LqgSLDHEIk/s1600/BLIXA2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNoRmVqCZiC1gUkjCIsrDM06S20zul7DBoHOS8PpfbbCUSKS5iGF64_q45lfw-qbJ7wYugDCYCFqs6Y3ZEn8FDh81w9yDTEoPqmHqpwPKz6FQSPRILVpagi6IGOXQeDm5YV7LqgSLDHEIk/s200/BLIXA2.jpg" width="130" /></a>“We never had a jack-hammer on stage.” He says sharply. “We had an electric hammer, it is a very different thing. Besides, I still have a video of that show, and I can tell you, that did not happen. Neither I, or anybody in the band tried to drill through the Hacienda ceiling support beams. That story came from (<b>Factory Records</b> honcho) <b>Tony Wilson</b>'s autobiography? ...Well you should know autobiography's are always great works of fiction.” Still, the classic image of Neubauten as a group of leather-clad, heroin-eyed noise-terrorists, intent on burrowing through stages rather than actually playing on them, has been hard to shake off. So when Bargeld joined <b>Nick Cave</b>'s own band of brutes - <b>The Birthday Party </b>- in 1983, any pre-existing opinions were unlikely to change. More practically though, Blixa's new double role meant for the first time he would analyse his approach to guitar playing, and to performing within the relative confines of a more traditional band set-up.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0EHeyp9h2L89mHyWkgrNXlhI4Js1hzjA9mY25wAwz0R3mO5B2USn0VVW2xVqVph1Jr4xhRbOQtjhSxEGKOzdr2FXjXgT9UiOdlfRyi05GmzSnWgFwvRIcAug9bjVz9pH1XLqKfap96Px0/s1600/BLIXA.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0EHeyp9h2L89mHyWkgrNXlhI4Js1hzjA9mY25wAwz0R3mO5B2USn0VVW2xVqVph1Jr4xhRbOQtjhSxEGKOzdr2FXjXgT9UiOdlfRyi05GmzSnWgFwvRIcAug9bjVz9pH1XLqKfap96Px0/s200/BLIXA.jpg" width="200" /></a>“Well first of all, if Nick had've asked me to join his band on clarinet, I still would have said 'yes'. But the thing is, I have always looked at the outside techniques of what is considered 'normal' use of an instrument. What is the word in English... when the rabbit runs back and forth....? Zig-zag! This is how I play, using this zig-zag strategy to make music that nobody would expect whatsoever. In <b>The Birthday Party </b>and<b> the Bad Seeds</b>, although the music was very different, I could still play guitar without actually playing it in any conventional way. I approached singing in the exact same manner... If you don't do the 'normal thing', you are free to make discoveries, like finding I could scream while sucking in air to get a much more powerful sound to come out.” Bargeld was by no means a casual member of <b>Nick Cave</b>'s band, but his role had diminished considerably following <b><i>Murder Ballads</i></b> album in 1995 when the Bad Seeds began to explore their softer side. He finally left in 2003 among rumours that he was annoyed about the direction they had taken.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8yQCGDE7LOfreWifijpzorBR7LnKr9kUclUp-BEl85wstjDyguzNIMawju-Q5rubdNywCcunZ_qi5l6F_VxNK3sQF6Yd5cKuQ9CFdFeNk_THNYmQaZdRqipH79m1pUnknhY2c4WP8OXIO/s1600/BLIXA18.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8yQCGDE7LOfreWifijpzorBR7LnKr9kUclUp-BEl85wstjDyguzNIMawju-Q5rubdNywCcunZ_qi5l6F_VxNK3sQF6Yd5cKuQ9CFdFeNk_THNYmQaZdRqipH79m1pUnknhY2c4WP8OXIO/s400/BLIXA18.jpg" width="400" /></a>“There was no quarrel between Nick and I. I left only because of my personal life, I mean I had gotten married and playing in two bands was no longer an option for me. But we are good.... There is no bad blood there.” The 'distraction' from Neubauten resulted in a much more focused Blixa, he admits. “Neubauten would not exist any more if everybody in the band wasn't busy with other things. It helps us to clarify what it is we do as Neubauten, because there are things we can only do within this band... If someone wants to go off and write music for a jeans commercial, then that's fine, but we could never do that as Neubauten.” For a band heavily reliant on improvisation, recording their albums was more a process of rehearsing as if for a live show than trying to get a perfect take. In <b>Einstürzende Neubauten</b>, a successful studio session is when nobody has be told to 'come in on the fourth scream'. “When we are playing together, of course it can sometimes be awful, but then you don't have to release those things. What you need to make a band like ours work is a metre level of communication which is without words. I know some bands who are able to do this well, like <b>Can </b>for instance, who famously improvised most of the time and the results were quite magical I think. They could sound like they were working with arrangements that had been written before, and I'm happy to say that Neubauten, when we are good, are playing like that too. We are improvising in a way that sounds like we have fully composed it beforehand and that is a very, very satisfying way of making music... using pure instinct.” Not surprisingly, in the band's beginning stages, Blixa's lack of any form of musical training was crucial to how he would ultimately function within the band.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjml6d0mmLtk5kKTjuyddHGh0N7YMCbdY1b7GyV0UKDZaM663k0nXV7obl6a7Qfa9c6LI1wVKHcbA5oblBg0v_YUsIhUCW088JhycNnNBN6-Jz_oyiBy0nhzqP7yI2yQvvj-zuVpthCh0lV/s1600/BLIXA17.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjml6d0mmLtk5kKTjuyddHGh0N7YMCbdY1b7GyV0UKDZaM663k0nXV7obl6a7Qfa9c6LI1wVKHcbA5oblBg0v_YUsIhUCW088JhycNnNBN6-Jz_oyiBy0nhzqP7yI2yQvvj-zuVpthCh0lV/s400/BLIXA17.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
“I had an idea that music could be anything you wanted it to be. We were very indignant about this because it meant we had no rules to follow. We knew no other way than that way, but then, you can't be involved in making music for as long as I have without learning a lot about how it is made. You can't keep approaching the guitar as if it is the first time you picked it up. I am 54 years old now, I know how to write, I know about music theory... I even have an invalid pass I can use here in Germany for the bus.” He laughs, “Also I had to learn how to produce when we made our first album. Our record company had no money to pay a engineer, and so the guy who owned the studio just showed us what buttons to push and then left. After that if a producer tried to tell me what I could and couldn't do in a studio, I would say well yes I can, I have done it before. Over time these limitations on how to make music in a studio have become silently accepted, but if you don't destroy all these rules you become enslaved by them.” Blixa says, suddenly becoming agitated. “Nobody can tell me how to record music because I have done it in ways a lot of producers wouldn't even dream of,” He adds, “and no doctors can tell me how to use or not use my voice because I have been singing like this for over 30 years, and my voice is still here.” He snorts.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IHqAnLJB-pU39DsS9_m5j0aAMXYPjPrxwNfuN5FmNEolHPwVxQM9xWbrtWGqXysSKHElZgPBlCIo2ZrYREiyogg54mD4hrSDvwDjrDrqfZ9pLVD0NjoydTcCABv5CbM9wkVv5_Z3c5Fi/s1600/BLIXA12.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2IHqAnLJB-pU39DsS9_m5j0aAMXYPjPrxwNfuN5FmNEolHPwVxQM9xWbrtWGqXysSKHElZgPBlCIo2ZrYREiyogg54mD4hrSDvwDjrDrqfZ9pLVD0NjoydTcCABv5CbM9wkVv5_Z3c5Fi/s200/BLIXA12.jpg" width="200" /></a>In light of Bargeld's solid grasp of his own capabilities, I wonder if intentionally shocking or frightening of his audience was ever a motivation. It's hard to think not, judging by output like the 1986 collaborative conceptual film <b><i>Halber Mensch</i></b>, which saw Neubauten along with Japanese director, <b>Sogo Ishii </b>create a nightmarish, subterranean world where half-human beasties scurried about to the strains of nails-on-blackboard screeches and rattling chains. “No, I think in your more democratic, free speech Western societies, provocation is very outdated concept. I never employed that as an artistic strategy. How people react to our music, is a personal thing for them, it is not something I can control.” However, during their most intense industrial period, Blixa concedes, there was a genuine risk to one's safety coming to an <b>Einstürzende Neubauten </b>show. “There have only been a couple of injuries to people in the audience, but it was always accidental.” He reassures, “I have learned to know when to duck if Andrew (Chudy – percussion) is wielding some huge piece of metal around on stage, but our audience were usually in no danger at all... it was always bouncers that got pissed off with us. They thought we were just trying to destroy the place... they had no clue.” Despite their notoriety, Neubauten faced quite a lot of ignorance over their 'strategies' as Blixa puts it. At a show in America, they were booted off stage after just half hour, once the angle-grinders were wheeled out; and again when opening for <b>U2</b>, they were forced to pull out of their support slot on the massive <b><i>Zooropa </i></b>tour for 'causing an affray'. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEo2l6fOYgADrtv3meUB8FT9hnY_oLfkTpHRGswDOSC82kwsKomwcjD0Q9OraVajZH2SwqB7_xCME50-spub86CWMzggvMgyPhp2rbwu0OO1lfXIWG1c6cxA8Aa1xPrAggKZYMYEJwSqTg/s1600/BLIXA10.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEo2l6fOYgADrtv3meUB8FT9hnY_oLfkTpHRGswDOSC82kwsKomwcjD0Q9OraVajZH2SwqB7_xCME50-spub86CWMzggvMgyPhp2rbwu0OO1lfXIWG1c6cxA8Aa1xPrAggKZYMYEJwSqTg/s320/BLIXA10.jpg" width="131" /></a>Their intention however was never to destroy. From Berlin's shattered urban landscape, where work to mend the city was minimal at best, came the sudden, long-absent sound of men building. Neubauten could be seen as an expression of your average Berliner's feelings about their neglected environment and its constant reminder of war. The band grew fast though, and coincidentally or not, changed their approach to music almost overnight following the fall of the <b>Berlin Wall </b>in 1989. Blixa discusses. “There was a show we played in a haunted house in Copenhagen, where Andrew climbed up the wall at the back of the stage, and did some let's say, 'architectural improvements' by drilling into the ceiling and removing the decorations that were there, and some people saw that as an attack on their house. As a result of this, Andrew had his electric hammer stolen from our van, which we never were able to recover.” He recalls, “So from that moment on, we never had an electric drill, but we went on to find other ways of making music.” In advance of the band's first show in Australia in many years, Blixa ends our conversation by enforcing the point, Australia's popular live music venues are quite safe, and more than likely to survive his band's visit. “I hope nobody is going to be disappointed, but when they come to see us, there's won't be any fire, or anybody drilling holes in the stage or tearing down the walls... It's going to be some middle-aged men playing what I think is some pretty interesting music... not sawing their arms off or anything like that. If people want to see that, they should go and see <b>Rammstein </b>instead... We are <i>NOT </i><b>Rammstein</b>!”<br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM0iCi00nSw34BG7Ve82RXy64I3rmAWctb4YSTYuTxqpoFbPM6nEXxZbQsAt9p800J1iUuOu4X-5wBNhihPpWNZzUHYuH6SM2py2eQQCqieG4zjUGfghurtL8D-eXFRcxJj2cicQ6_4B96/s1600/BLIXA6.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM0iCi00nSw34BG7Ve82RXy64I3rmAWctb4YSTYuTxqpoFbPM6nEXxZbQsAt9p800J1iUuOu4X-5wBNhihPpWNZzUHYuH6SM2py2eQQCqieG4zjUGfghurtL8D-eXFRcxJj2cicQ6_4B96/s400/BLIXA6.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: small;">Blixa<span style="font-size: small;">: <span style="font-size: small;">enjoying<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">a rare moment <span style="font-size: small;">of</span></span></span> <span style="font-size: small;">peace and quiet.</span></span></span></span></span></b></i></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEo2l6fOYgADrtv3meUB8FT9hnY_oLfkTpHRGswDOSC82kwsKomwcjD0Q9OraVajZH2SwqB7_xCME50-spub86CWMzggvMgyPhp2rbwu0OO1lfXIWG1c6cxA8Aa1xPrAggKZYMYEJwSqTg/s1600/BLIXA10.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-16879055940537597232012-10-06T03:37:00.001+10:002012-12-18T02:15:38.296+11:00Iva Davies (Icehouse) interview: 2012<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMF4KTe68mifBKdRZQxCCp2yKcXbPuwGXzm8TcoTwk2jHxhG8h4hABgjnL0qHLAJ2TXCa7CYzzughYIskacy9IJ_hEiZKCunebKBoPxuTGRjZtIMwOW-3hSwkSLHNecATqVzjExFdUlys/s1600/icehouse-2012.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMF4KTe68mifBKdRZQxCCp2yKcXbPuwGXzm8TcoTwk2jHxhG8h4hABgjnL0qHLAJ2TXCa7CYzzughYIskacy9IJ_hEiZKCunebKBoPxuTGRjZtIMwOW-3hSwkSLHNecATqVzjExFdUlys/s400/icehouse-2012.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>GEM FROM A GOLDEN AGE </i></span></span></b></div>
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<b>For Iva Davies, the clichéd mullet and leather jacketed Aus-rocker image was never a good fit for him, even in the 1980s. In fact the Sydney native multi-instrumentalist, while writing future classic singles for his band Flowers (and ultimately Icehouse), was in the late ‘70s, moonlighting as a bow-tied oboist in a symphony orchestra, in order to give himself options. “I was living a real double life back then!” Thankfully, the rock path held greater appeal, and in the coming years, Iva would find himself front and centre of one of the most successful bands in the country, before inexplicably disappearing without a word in the mid-‘90s.</b></div>
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Equally unexpected was the break in Icehouse’s 17 years of inactivity, when in July last year, an unannounced ‘secret’ gig at the Espy was swamped by hundreds of fans who’d turned up in the hope the rumours were in fact true. The huge response soon prompted further dates being booked, and ultimately lead to a tour in celebration of the respective anniversaries of the band’s two biggest albums; <i><b>Primitive Man</b></i> and <b><i>Man Of Colours</i></b>. Before the so-named <b>Primitive Colours</b> tour hits town, Iva looks back at the songs that made him a household name and tells why he decided make such an understated return. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-gdrw3F7KrJO6ABELMPbuhAu-lV52NLQW4ZsWFod-NGpGCOptnL62hZ6rxTNYr4lbtQ3PT2I192TP1UmOG-Oy0YeG3a_3j0jyxrmstdDTGFuAQRGknaf08160FWaeiaz-fjFnCLR-_a_/s1600/IcehouseIva+Davies+1992.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP-gdrw3F7KrJO6ABELMPbuhAu-lV52NLQW4ZsWFod-NGpGCOptnL62hZ6rxTNYr4lbtQ3PT2I192TP1UmOG-Oy0YeG3a_3j0jyxrmstdDTGFuAQRGknaf08160FWaeiaz-fjFnCLR-_a_/s200/IcehouseIva+Davies+1992.jpg" width="133" /></a>“Part of the reason we did that show was basically to see if there was still interest in the band. Before that show, I really wasn’t confident at all but when the word got out that the surprise guests were us there were lines around the block, which was a huge relief.” Davies recalls. “It was also quite appealing playing a proper pub gig again. It was a bit of a return to our roots as well.” After Icehouse called it quits in 1995, Davies, holed up in his home studio, threw himself into writing scores for films (<i><b>Master & Commander</b></i>), the Sydney Dance Company and a Millennium performance piece called <b><i>The Ghost of Time</i></b>, which centred around an updated version of the Icehouse classic, <b><i>Great Southern Land</i></b>. For all intents and purpose though, it seemed as if Iva had suddenly turned his back on Icehouse and pop music in general. <br />
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“Playing in a band is actually a very gruelling lifestyle.” He reasons, “I’ve always needed to offset all that by grabbing as much quiet time as I can in order to work, which means pulling the phone out of the wall just so I can avoid any distractions. That’s how I’ve always made music; whether that’s pop or film scores.” He adds, “I look at someone like <b>Prince</b>, who I know for a fact had a studio on 24 hour stand-by while he was in Sydney a few months ago, just in case he had an idea for a song but for me, I’ve never been able to stop and start the process at will. It’s a bit of fragile bubble that once broken can never be regained.” His method of music making no matter how isolating resulted in a tonne of credible hits throughout the 1980s. Radio in particular loved Icehouse so much that based on playlists alone, one would have assumed they were the most popular band in the country for a time. Davies’ memory of such support however, is a little less than enthusiastic.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5I076aO5fEfvUspN4ds3YZOQmn5Qc7VBiTfSujzwL88-c5lPcgttfFU4NItEng7BvfebTE_mPu6F8rINVks5UQt3gwLueGakr8xLoTHTOidsvqy0FNREU41MRlrCnLNQJTAgoEZjenVP/s1600/Icehouseclassic.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5I076aO5fEfvUspN4ds3YZOQmn5Qc7VBiTfSujzwL88-c5lPcgttfFU4NItEng7BvfebTE_mPu6F8rINVks5UQt3gwLueGakr8xLoTHTOidsvqy0FNREU41MRlrCnLNQJTAgoEZjenVP/s400/Icehouseclassic.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Davies: Not just the '<i>Electric Blue</i> guy.'</b></span></span></td></tr>
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“I never wanted to be known as the ‘<i><b>Electric Blue </b>guy</i>’.” He laughs, distancing himself somewhat from the 1987 single, which was famously a co-write with <b>John Oates </b>(of <b>Hall & Oates</b>). “That song was actually our only number one hit in Australia, but it wasn’t what I thought best represented Icehouse as I saw us. Still it is the song that I get asked about more than any other even to this day.” <b><i>Electric Blue</i></b> was in truth far from the band's only moment in the sun. Second album 1984’s <b><i>Primitive Man</i></b>, was Icehouse’s first real mover on the local and overseas charts, however label doubt over the finished product’s hit-potential pushed Iva into an unexpectedly rewarding situation. “The American record label, who wanted to push the <i><b>Primitive Man </b></i>album, sent us back to the drawing board because they didn’t think we had a big single on there.” He explains, “Basically I ended up sleeping on the floor in <b>Giorgio Moroder</b>’s studio – who was of course this massive disco producer in Hollywood, where we had recorded most of the album – and in the wee hours, using this guitar with a missing string, I wrote <i><b>Hey Little Girl</b></i>, which became our first international hit.” The mention of Moroder prompts Davies’ to quickly remind me his allegiance was always to the rock world and that Icehouse were never in real danger of making a disco record. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3oQsLxsaXwKyMapSL-yoYkUkdpBatN-nrLulmNNGT9f2kXWGtYXaQxj6Cv0_SuxB5kohU-JZKMqIBPTVEwiwozp-tBJrDv3gHDPVyE_uo16radAdcJpNIdnR7T1D2JEpEPUe_8PXkckHp/s1600/icehouse.gsl.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3oQsLxsaXwKyMapSL-yoYkUkdpBatN-nrLulmNNGT9f2kXWGtYXaQxj6Cv0_SuxB5kohU-JZKMqIBPTVEwiwozp-tBJrDv3gHDPVyE_uo16radAdcJpNIdnR7T1D2JEpEPUe_8PXkckHp/s200/icehouse.gsl.jpg" width="200" /></a>“Back then, you were very much into one or the other, and I was never a disco fan at all.” He confirms, “<b>Led Zeppelin </b>and <b>T-Rex </b>was what I really was into at the time, although I did like what Moroder was doing with synths and sequencers.” As it happened, it was during the same year Moroder was enjoying success with the uber-cheesey<b><i> Together In Electric Dreams</i></b>, that Icehouse delivered what would become their signature single and sure-fire Aus anthem; the haunting <i><b>Great Southern Land</b></i>. “That song went through quite a number of changes before it was completed.” Iva recalls, “I remember the producer on that track had just done <b>Billy Idol</b>’s<b><i> Hot In The City</i></b>, which was a massive record at the time, and he replaced all of my synth parts with live drums and so on, and basically made it into this big <b>Billy Idol</b>-type production piece, but it was just awful.” He laughs, “But the finished version you know today was basically the untouched demo that had taken me around two hours to mix and complete and it ended up becoming this massive thing that has become our real defining moment. But I really was disconnected with what it was people seemed to love about that song at the time. All I knew was I’d written a song about Australia and if I got it wrong then there was a real potential of it blowing up in my face!” <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYu583cvlBqf1TNQAQem9fNh0PSBZcCsVzCpjlaoUHYQfNSuZADe41Rr18T76SIrQButTs1sUCGSGtSiZrp4HCTHH9LxLcMTpwj4ANPgeVDmgwUZpyb7CjilO-dr13VclnoBeOKmvz8XH/s1600/icehouse65.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiYu583cvlBqf1TNQAQem9fNh0PSBZcCsVzCpjlaoUHYQfNSuZADe41Rr18T76SIrQButTs1sUCGSGtSiZrp4HCTHH9LxLcMTpwj4ANPgeVDmgwUZpyb7CjilO-dr13VclnoBeOKmvz8XH/s200/icehouse65.jpg" width="200" /></a>The simplistic beauty of how <b><i>Southern Land </i></b>was ultimately completed indicates a high level of self-belief in Iva’s way of working. While he generally allowed producers and labels their input, trust in his own judgement delivered the best results. Furthermore, while sales and accolades have informed which Icehouse albums are the most loved, In Iva’s own view, 1986 album <i><b>Measure For Measure</b></i> was closer to Icehouse’s defining moment. “I’m not necessarily consistent about it, but if pushed I would say that album was the most pivotal for us.” He considers, “It turned out that that album was only the third fully digital recording made ever, but we didn’t know that at the time.” Davies recalls, “How it happened was, a few years before we made it, we met a guy in London called <b>Rhett Davies</b>, who was a penniless roady at the time, but in the space of a few short years he had amassed this warehouse full of amazing gadgets, including a brand new digital multi-track.” Iva continues.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV10NUMN5GuR4y8s5HMzBIdl9NSjwJHmPPOfsSizobovK0C5DB-VNmgKcI40ruYu_NDjoczwaMImXNyDlKSBa4zephoglM-U8OFj8_xZ253qiJbMKM9COTreiqajc-obpWq5ddhVilydsP/s1600/Icehousebigwheel.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV10NUMN5GuR4y8s5HMzBIdl9NSjwJHmPPOfsSizobovK0C5DB-VNmgKcI40ruYu_NDjoczwaMImXNyDlKSBa4zephoglM-U8OFj8_xZ253qiJbMKM9COTreiqajc-obpWq5ddhVilydsP/s200/Icehousebigwheel.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>Big Wheel</i> and its floppy attachment.</b></span></td></tr>
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“As with anything new, there were more happy accidents when recording in digital than there were plans. Having said that, Rhett wasn’t in any way flying blind. This is a guy who had produced all early <b>Roxy Music</b> and <b>Brian Eno</b> albums, and so we were very lucky to be in his company at the start of the whole digital music thing.” After embracing digital recording and the CD in the mid-‘80s, Icehouse were again at the forefront of a burgeoning technology in 1993. The band’s seventh album, <b><i>Big Wheel</i></b> was initially packaged with a floppy disc – only the second album in the world to do so – although it would prove to be a much more short-lived diversion, Iva recalls the “bonus floppy” with fondness. “It was actually developed by our keyboardist Tony Llewellyn, who was a real techno-boffin and one of the first people who bought a Macintosh and carried it around in a bag on tour. Once again, I was lucky to be around incredibly clever people, but it was always going to be a risk seeing as technology can be so transient, but it was something nobody else was doing and even though it took a while to fire it up once the disc was inserted, it was a fun little extra to play around with.” </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Iva with Flowers; circa 1980</b></span></td></tr>
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As our interview begins to wind up, the future of Icehouse is only discussed briefly as Iva had revealed earlier in our talk, “I can’t even think about recording or writing when I am preparing for a tour. They exist in two completely different sides of my brain!” He has however been sporadically recording music up until recently for an unfinished project known as<i><b> Bi-Polar Poems</b></i>, hinting at a possible further Icehouse album. In the meantime though, Davies is ticking off towns and venues around Australia in one of the band’s most extensive local tours of their career. “Most of the places we are playing this time around will be new to us. I mean take the Espy gig for instance, we had never played that venue before even back in the <b>Flowers </b>days. There was however a whole strip of music venues down that way (St Kilda Esplanade) at the time, one notably called <b>Bananas</b>, which was just tiny and I remember having to walk up about four flights of stairs, carrying all our gear to get to it.” Iva laughs, “We played there a number of times, but by the time the Espy was up and running as a live venue, we had already had a bit of success and were actually able to play bigger venues like Festival Hall.” <br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>The 'Primitive Colours' tour promo slide.</b></span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>Iva at the 'surprise' Espy gig, July 2011</b></span></td></tr>
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<br />lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-61048575673928279892012-09-26T13:42:00.000+10:002012-09-26T13:51:07.060+10:00Darebin Music Feast presents: Up Late With Kate: Celebrating the music of Kate Bush (live review)<div style="color: #e69138; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazdZrhj_Z35VCHSm_8UmUjCyPzG-91irYBoR7HerUQWzOQbehpsre7e9rgvZLxrx7uR-EW0pW7gBpKVyf_Y1tWHmkjUKgF-RVinUW9evT0YyEwBkUNgmbJZwGi7T5vO6PAO-8cEZu_bbC/s1600/UpLateWithKateWEB.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhazdZrhj_Z35VCHSm_8UmUjCyPzG-91irYBoR7HerUQWzOQbehpsre7e9rgvZLxrx7uR-EW0pW7gBpKVyf_Y1tWHmkjUKgF-RVinUW9evT0YyEwBkUNgmbJZwGi7T5vO6PAO-8cEZu_bbC/s400/UpLateWithKateWEB.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Venue: Northcote Town Hall</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Date: 22nd September 2012</i></b></span></div>
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<b>Sitting somewhere between dreaded tribute show and cabaret performance – Darebin Music Feast's Up Late With Kate was at the very least Kate Bush fans only chance to experience their idol's hits in a live setting. Bush retired from touring 33 years ago, and seldom releases new music, yet her ability to fascinate and inspire musically has never waned. Over time, that reverence has translated as everything from bad cover versions to camp parodies, and while all done with a sense of admiration, have only served to highlight how hard it really is to ‘do Kate Bush’. This fact was surely in the minds of those guests brave enough to try and interpret the enigmatic singer's numerous classics tonight at Northcote Town Hall in a celebration of all things Bush.</b><br />
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The artists involved in tonight’s show come from all areas of music and stage, but are united geographically within the surrounding arts-rich Darebin electorate. The show’s MC, co-ordinator <b>Benn Bennett</b>, provides links between each artist, shares some Kate anecdotes and even awkwardly gives his own spin on a few of her songs. However, this attempt at taking on so many roles makes him hard to connect with and leaning more on his guests to carry the performance side of things would have boded well. The talent, after all, was phenomenal and every act rose to the challenge with genuine class. <b>Jimmy Stewart</b>'s re-working of <b><i>Cloudbusting </i></b>in the style of <b>Kim Salmon</b> for instance, is proof early on that there's no guessing as to 'how' the artist's would approach their chosen song. Comedian <b>Scott Edgar</b> (of Tripod fame) takes on <b><i>Hounds Of Love</i></b> on solo electric guitar – which owes little to the original's template, yet lost nothing in his surprisingly tender re-telling. Though a tad more literal, <b>Tina Del Twist</b>, perfectly embodies a sad old character actor for <i><b>Wow</b></i>, as dictated by its lyric. Though creating the first truly grand moment of many is Sarah Ward, who's show-stopping <b><i>This Woman's Work</i></b>, is so true to the original, a near-sighted Kate Bush tragic would be pressed to pick it as a cover.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1RUemV0QsGiblwaO0GYTzb6sDLjsyaKFZ4kR-kqqW0AJ9D9BeC019rFaZKtzrMD1FDbeq04nwX3q-iWMVgoycgHRT0SnT0F1wORls4jWA7M5HVLfdIJYvI8sqrn7a2VHdUN1RpcYNYWcA/s1600/katebush.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1RUemV0QsGiblwaO0GYTzb6sDLjsyaKFZ4kR-kqqW0AJ9D9BeC019rFaZKtzrMD1FDbeq04nwX3q-iWMVgoycgHRT0SnT0F1wORls4jWA7M5HVLfdIJYvI8sqrn7a2VHdUN1RpcYNYWcA/s200/katebush.jpg" width="200" /></a>The real triumph of the night however belongs to <i><b>Sat In Your Lap</b></i>. Sung as a duet between Ward and Bennett with accompaniment on drums by a topless, horned female percussionist, the trio bring the song's nightmarish video to life right before us. The business end of the concert arrives following a quick interval in which fans flock to inspect the one prop on stage: the actual dress worn by Queen Kate in her <b><i>Sensual World </i></b>video, apparently procured for this event via Guy Pearce! (I didn't ask). As unpredictable as the first, the second act boasts accapella gems, <i><b>In The Warm Room </b></i>and <i><b>Dream Of Sheep</b></i>; an outstanding piano and vocal run through of <b><i>The Man With The Child In His Eyes </i></b>by an unfortunately staged <b>Ali McGregor </b>– her back is to the audience – and a smouldering <b><i>Running Up That Hill</i></b> by <b>Rebecca Barnard</b>. The finale, a fun, all-in sing-a-long of Bush's signature hit, <i><b>Wuthering Heights</b></i> is a hot mess, but nobody really cares as we all join in, howling through the chorus. The occasional amateurish bits in this mostly well-presented celebration are easily forgiven, with perhaps one exception. Benn Bennett's ill-advised <b><i>Babooshka </i></b>performance, in which he, while clad in a sarong nappy, slams an image of Kate into a rubbish bin full of broken glass for no apparent reason. The performers for the most part however treated the material well, keeping the camp comedy routine to a minimum and avoided falling into a Kate-karaoke situation, and overall put on a show worthy of such a rare talent.<br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div>
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<u><b>WHAT WAS PERFORMED:</b></u></div>
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<i><b>Breathing</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Ran Tan Waltz<br />Cloudbusting</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Wow</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Under The Ivy</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Army Dreamers</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Mother Stands For Comfort</b></i></div>
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<i><b>This Woman's Work</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Sat In Your Lap</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Babooshka</b></i></div>
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<i><b>In The Warm Room</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Kashka from Baghdad</b></i></div>
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<i><b>And Dream Of Sheep</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Hounds Of Love</b></i></div>
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<i><b>The Man With The Child In His Eyes</b></i></div>
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<i><b>Running Up That Hill</b></i></div>
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<i><b style="color: #0b5394;">Wuthering Heights</b></i></div>
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-45351426765070465672012-09-23T19:52:00.000+10:002012-09-23T19:54:38.138+10:00Joe McKee (Snowman) live in Melbourne, 2012<div style="color: orange; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKfCxqLaoyQCOBJjoanRyUyxdHUsfKLG0XFn8ibWBbsdXIsezhvN-SFTz2d2g7FEVvXi7TqYF8KXIJa9thKBmeEt09hhpnPpmcgBAQR0lUdKg_aPQaeTDSBTfwC7jh-qrKt9b6JkdEBSDa/s1600/JOE+MCKEE.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="195" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKfCxqLaoyQCOBJjoanRyUyxdHUsfKLG0XFn8ibWBbsdXIsezhvN-SFTz2d2g7FEVvXi7TqYF8KXIJa9thKBmeEt09hhpnPpmcgBAQR0lUdKg_aPQaeTDSBTfwC7jh-qrKt9b6JkdEBSDa/s400/JOE+MCKEE.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Venue: The Grace Darling</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: orange;"><i>Date: August 11</i></b></span></div>
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After breaking away from the grand and ghoulish Snowman, former frontman Joe McKee has found a more subtle form of expression as a solo artist. While his old band expertly drew listeners in using suspense and tribal drumming as its main weapons of seduction, in his new incarnation, loops and well-pronounced vowels do all the work. As an environment, the Grace provides buckets of support for Joe’s Burning Boy solo album launch, which tonight is attended by a comfortable – for that sized room - number of punters. The stage, merely a foot off the floor, feels less like a forced focal point but rather just a place for Joe to stand. Casually he glides on and off his cramped quarters and through the crowd when the mood suits him in order to sidle up close to a fan as his looped guitar shimmys away, never out-ranking the deep, sombre vocal in volume. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuXteLk8uT6wtJcIOObvDjnBqJ15c_rybjMURIflqMYelL3wobOUKk6LP1tUzx3Jtb_tpFF5G69bUYcgRzA5mt0aXFor8olsqspu_USnLbzGf8XByxiTO9mOyPzjLW4SbMRIrItH0iQiP/s1600/Joe+McKee+Live1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYuXteLk8uT6wtJcIOObvDjnBqJ15c_rybjMURIflqMYelL3wobOUKk6LP1tUzx3Jtb_tpFF5G69bUYcgRzA5mt0aXFor8olsqspu_USnLbzGf8XByxiTO9mOyPzjLW4SbMRIrItH0iQiP/s400/Joe+McKee+Live1.jpg" width="400" /></a>In these kinds of intimate performances, it’s not unusual for my attention to wander and fixate on some insignificant prop or even the movement of the performer’s feet as they jab at guitar peddles, but McKee had me and everyone in my immediate view hanging on every note sung. Even when fronting the raucous Snowman though, Joe has always displayed an effortless ability to draw you in and make all else melt away. </div>
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This fact is helped by several well defined staples of McKee’s performance. Firstly, he mixes with his audience mid-song, while still retaining that important sense of intrigue. Secondly, his band – a drummer, violinist and keyboardist - hop on stage only sporadically to add accompaniment and thirdly, he sounds out every word he sings, imploring us to listen. As a solo artist, Joe has slipped into the role of story teller, but even more so, he is exploring the power of words as sounds.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUAZE9Ap_VT9hC0Ku2nybH0h_rX-M1YzPRElOdH0yXik9yPrwkUp7TM9aXimjnEIWSdf_hD3fZ4bD-gOU7rN3DKvRSrob7s8JZh0IbIGtf4Fb3etsrrRS_a0u6FhoXDznDRxq5bgwzlePB/s1600/Joe+McKee+live2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="164" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUAZE9Ap_VT9hC0Ku2nybH0h_rX-M1YzPRElOdH0yXik9yPrwkUp7TM9aXimjnEIWSdf_hD3fZ4bD-gOU7rN3DKvRSrob7s8JZh0IbIGtf4Fb3etsrrRS_a0u6FhoXDznDRxq5bgwzlePB/s200/Joe+McKee+live2.jpg" width="200" /></a>He understands that a deep resonant voice, which he possesses, drawing out every syllable can be just as powerful as any percussive instrument, and hold as much sway as the words themselves. I find myself held up by a lyric early in the set; “You just keep getting louder, while I fall into lunacy” where McKee’s seductive tone shifts suddenly into spine-chilling terrain, and any chance of an easy ride ‘polite singer/songwriter’ type gig is lost. Thankfully. </div>
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Perhaps the most remarkable thing about McKee’s show however is the complete lack of ceremony. Album launches are typically coupled with a sense of occasion, and maybe a ‘funny thing happened on the way to the studio’ story or two, but not this time. It’s as though McKee and his occasional backing band swept through the room on a wave and we all got caught up in it before being plopped back down again as it retreated out to sea. I left feeling as though I’d had my heart warmed and my bones chilled all at once. Pretty good result for a 45 minute set that featured all new, unknown material, I’d say. </div>
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXf7mUhkmYfBBHCmHYh4qTNqQKZBxAJU_uLCtl5AXwaJgvn_zGJEYqtlq-7amh9t27sW0d3NmFtz7kHFieaz98X2j7frTEiZ3RXtKVpdE6oOjqQ2njVSmhB8inPR28AneYfpNCtLVB3Z3/s1600/Joe+McKee+autograph.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoXf7mUhkmYfBBHCmHYh4qTNqQKZBxAJU_uLCtl5AXwaJgvn_zGJEYqtlq-7amh9t27sW0d3NmFtz7kHFieaz98X2j7frTEiZ3RXtKVpdE6oOjqQ2njVSmhB8inPR28AneYfpNCtLVB3Z3/s320/Joe+McKee+autograph.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
<b style="color: #073763;">Joe signed my CD,<i> "You have great taste in music!"</i> So humble!</b></div>
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-48766149687674636712012-05-14T14:26:00.002+10:002012-06-20T12:00:31.235+10:00Rufus Wainwright: Out Of The Game (review)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Rufus Wainwright</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Out Of The Game</i></b></span></div>
<span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b><i>(Decca)</i> </b></span><br />
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Reviewing the new <b>Mark Ronson</b>-produced Wainwright album, I was deeply concerned that I would be faced with a “<b>Mark Ronson featuring Rufus Wainwright</b>” situation. Not that this decade’s hottest producer is all that bad – his work with the <b>Business Intl</b> was killer – but Rufus’s major talent is in dramatic subtlety, while Ronson usually chucks a load of horns and synths on everything, resulting in a more bombastic product. With that in mind, <i><b>Out Of The Game</b></i> was touted as a “return to pop” ahead of release. However Wainwright’s last “pop” album, 2007’s <b><i>Release The Stars</i></b>, explored some of the most un-pop themes you could get, so it’s with some hesitation (and excitement) that I invest in what Wainwright is calling pop these days. </div>
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Although Rufus is 38 years of age, he has made a much older man’s album this time around. There are no handsome princes on the horizon coming to sweep him away, or nights spent trawling New York’s dive bars with his phone on vibrate. Instead, the now married singer is on the other side of the picket fence, baby in arms, and his “game” is essentially over. On the title track, his older, wiser self berates his younger self for being so tacky and shameless; “<i>Look at you, sucker/Does your mama know what you’re doing?</i>” Wainwright grew up very fast, and it seems in hindsight he is lamenting the early loss of his own innocence. </div>
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From reflecting on his youth, Rufus’s focus goes to the very distant future on <b><i>Montauk</i></b>. The track is an open letter to Viva, the child he fathered with Lorca Cohen (Leonard’s daughter), where he hints at a fear of future rejection by her for being raised in an ‘alternative family’, however, it could just as easily reflect the thoughts of anybody on the verge of first-time parenthood. Becoming a father means the game isn’t so much over for Rufus – it has simply become a different game and he is scared that he won’t be able to play it. The singer worries that he has little useful advice to offer in terms of how to get by shy of ‘it’s better to have laid in the gutter than lived in fear of life.' Autobiographical Rufus is always charming, but it’s his political stuff that’s often the strongest in terms of expression.</div>
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<i><b>Jericho</b></i> - a kind of sequel to 2007’s <b><i>Going to a Town</i></b> – makes a soft attack on religious oppression in the Middle East. Whereas <b><i>Going to a Town</i></b> saw Wainwright openly washing his hands of America, on <i><b>Jericho</b></i> he evokes a broken relationship cliché to make his point; “<i>I keep thinking you’re gonna change/I keep thinking you’re gonna rise…</i>” . Best of all, however, is <b><i>Candles</i></b>, with its most trademarked of Rufus-isms; highlighting those insignificant details in a remarkable situation which we rarely voice, but that seem to stick in mind somehow. Also <i><b>Candles </b></i>boasts a full Wainwright family sing-a-long, including sister Martha and their estranged father, <b>Loudon</b>, and is quite clearly a tribute to the late <b>Kate McGarrigle </b>- complete with a bagpipe solo, choir and absolutely no Mark Ronson-ey horns farting all over the place - as is the case on <i><b>Rashida </b></i>and <b><i>Welcome To The Ball</i></b>.</div>
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Although Ronson does manage to squeeze in some of his own trademarks here and there, <b><i>Out Of The Game</i></b> is actually quite musically restrained for both producer and artist. What made <b><i>Release The Stars </i></b>for example such an outstanding album was the level of risk Wainwright took, and although <b><i>Out Of The Game</i></b> has many glorious moments, it is in fact the pop album it was proposed to be. In other words, musically quite safe, and even a little dull in parts which is a side to Rufus we’ve seldom seen before. Further more, he doesn’t challenge himself vocally as much as on 2010’s <b><i>Songs For Lulu</i></b>, but then fans will love the familiarity of songs like <b><i>Respectable Dive</i></b> and<b><i> Perfect Man</i></b>, either of which would have sounded quite at home on <b><i>Want One </i></b>or <b><i>Want Two</i></b>. Whatever shortcomings there may be here though, a pop album by Rufus Wainwright is still a shed load better than a so-called epic masterpiece by many other contemporary singer/songwriters who’d struggle to grasp the idea of the game, let alone know how far they are in or out of it.</div>
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<b>lEIGh5</b><br />
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<b style="color: #0b5394;">Rufus Wainwright: <i>Out Of The Game</i> (official video featuring Helena Bonham Carter.)</b></div>
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<br /></div>lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-51915807905101561902012-04-16T02:27:00.002+10:002012-04-16T02:29:35.117+10:00Sinead O'Connor: How About I Be Me & You Be You (review)<div style="color: orange;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Rg8K-xxjU1d4KlX92wJhC10o7nj4LJDJUGeKmKRWGCArb-eGPBgpKBYPZqjdbvJjzdBhAt6tsiGbWiYWOh2iQHUCSGSps6QB2k3rEPkF1ALOu_lAT7sULrBXV4xpRdZhmXRAMJtcAvt3/s1600/sinead-oconnor-how-about-i-be-me.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Rg8K-xxjU1d4KlX92wJhC10o7nj4LJDJUGeKmKRWGCArb-eGPBgpKBYPZqjdbvJjzdBhAt6tsiGbWiYWOh2iQHUCSGSps6QB2k3rEPkF1ALOu_lAT7sULrBXV4xpRdZhmXRAMJtcAvt3/s400/sinead-oconnor-how-about-i-be-me.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Sinead O'Connor -</i></b></span></div><div style="color: orange;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>"How About I Be Me and You Be You"</i></b></span></div><i><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: orange;">(One Little Indian/Shock)</b></span> </i><br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">Sinead O’Connor came out fighting on her 1987 debut, <b><i>The Lion & The Cobra</i></b>, and 25 years on, she still sounds like that girl with fire in her soul and a foot looking for an arse to kick on <b><i>How About I Be Me And You Be You</i></b>. Yes, anger has continually infiltrated her work, be it directed at her parents, the opposite sex or the Catholic church, but during the last 25 years, we have also come to know Sinead as a highly contrary artist. One thing that is a constant however, is her dissatisfaction with the status quo. Confusing and confounding fans and critics alike, in the last decade Sinead came out as a lesbian before being ordained as a priest and later rejected both lifestyles when she become engaged to Australian musician, Steve Cooney. No sooner had she announced she would be ‘settling down’, news came through of a quick divorce from Cooney and a further marriage to a man she met online followed. It’s these recent developments in Sinead’s life that forms the basis of <b><i>How I About I Be Me</i></b>…</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> </div><div style="text-align: justify;">The album’s title – a re-writing of the traditional marriage vows - and its content deals directly with O’Connor’s brushes with matrimony – her recent wedding to Barry Herridge lasted only 17 days – and the institution itself. As far as wedding albums go, there is little romantic merit in O’Connor’s words, as to be expected, but rather she challenges the suitor to forget the fairytale (and the Catholic church) idea of marriage. On the first single <b><i>The Wolf Is Getting Married</i></b>, Sinead owns the public’s image of her as an unstable - even lamentable - woman of contradictions. Firstly, she decides marriage will bring her unending happiness and keep away the ‘wolves’ – an animal, in literary terms, sometimes associated with depressive syndromes. The question that the song raises however, is how serious is she? At any given moment the listener could expect to be slapped in the face with a renouncement of all this new-found comfort. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
The track <i><b>4th and Vine </b></i>further reinforces O’Connor’s belief that matrimony holds the key to her satisfaction, and is nothing short of a re-telling of<b> The Dixie Cups</b>’ saccharine 1964 hit, <i><b>Chapel Of Love</b></i>, yet considering the singer’s recent past, a sarcastic subtext can’t be ignored. The album takes a sudden and more familiar turn on <b><i>Take Off Your Shoes</i></b>, where Sinead is all ‘blood of Jesus’ and ‘hallowed ground’, while <i><b>V.I.P</b></i>. is good old fashioned theology in verse. Musically, her later releases veered into reggae which is reprised here. The mostly mid-tempo pace and acoustic instrumentation allows the narrative to take the lead, keeping with Sinead’s folk singer styling and the tradition of reggae’s ‘songs of rebellion’. The album overall is a fantastic observation and summary of O’Connor’s often difficult to relate to personal life and favourite subject matter. She offers an even sharper perspective than on many former revelatory releases, and is still one of the most brutally honest song-writers around - “I was always crazy”; she growls on <i><b>If I Had A Baby</b></i>. O’Connor is at her best when she flaunts what most of us would be happy to deny. <b><i>How About I Be Me And You Be You</i></b> is a purposeful blurring of the singer’s wishful thinking and the stark reality of her inability to settle down and play house. Perhaps she feels such a compromise would be mean disconnecting from her muse, and so within the safety of music, she has dared to go where she just can’t seem to in life. <br />
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<b><i><span style="color: #0b5394;"> "The Wolf Is Getting Married" </span></i><span style="color: #0b5394;">official video</span><i><span style="color: #0b5394;">.</span></i></b><br />
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</div>lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-73707633729009065602012-04-11T00:32:00.010+10:002012-04-16T02:31:10.055+10:00The Pogues: live in Melbourne, 2012 (review)<div style="color: orange; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOH9zh8yass1PdVOegpRrDQiHw4V-0DCUVXss1LeX3n5eiS1aSzQ_b72BSQeN_8sFnct-w_tR0v7LNpbnUg7yTZ8SQUEHMO-o89GuxaXp7ubb-m0j2mH_0tKwwRr3BqcWz0ItfWMDXBl0j/s1600/POGUES2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOH9zh8yass1PdVOegpRrDQiHw4V-0DCUVXss1LeX3n5eiS1aSzQ_b72BSQeN_8sFnct-w_tR0v7LNpbnUg7yTZ8SQUEHMO-o89GuxaXp7ubb-m0j2mH_0tKwwRr3BqcWz0ItfWMDXBl0j/s400/POGUES2.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Venue: Festival Hall</i></b></span></div><div style="color: orange; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Date: 04/04</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>If there’s one holiday Australian’s truly get behind with gusto, it’s the celebration of St Patrick’s Day, and so having Celtic punk legends The Pogues in town was excuse enough for a mini-reprise of the festivities. Oversized green leprechaun hats, Irish sport shirts, endless shamrocks and the guff of whiskey breath fills Festival hall, along with the general rowdiness of your local watering hole near closing time.</b><br />
<b> </b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE-MYHjpTWscLixWerzPt-FDqpKb-WWez1g4s0y3Y3tis_WgaN1MdtHPqnNpaYGfc7KBTpdX0WssA5gbHElOAQaP3vfk7UcRWtBSsiAps_Lf2Riql3nEzzu9RiKTGPMtyq9wH01G6ltyWV/s1600/POGUES1.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE-MYHjpTWscLixWerzPt-FDqpKb-WWez1g4s0y3Y3tis_WgaN1MdtHPqnNpaYGfc7KBTpdX0WssA5gbHElOAQaP3vfk7UcRWtBSsiAps_Lf2Riql3nEzzu9RiKTGPMtyq9wH01G6ltyWV/s200/POGUES1.jpg" width="200" /></a>Being a <b>Pogues </b>gig – their first in Australia for 22 years – mass alcohol consumption is a given. The only question yet to be answered is who will be the most pissed; the fans or the band’s renowned lead singer, <b>Shane MacGowan</b>. Pogues concerts have never adopted the official warning; ‘show may conclude early depending on Shane’s ability to remain standing’, yet it is a real possibility as their touring history will support. Tonight we are treated firstly to the original eight-piece line-up who take to the stage as the sound of <b>The</b> <b>Clash</b>’s <i><b>Straight To Hell</b></i> fades over the PA, and finally an unhurried, slightly wobbly <b>MacGowan,</b> who emerges to a welcoming roar.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Before a note of music is even played, the man who has done nothing to remove the stereotype of the Irish drunk, is shouting erratically into his mic. “I can’t fuckin’ believe ish been twenny two fuckin’ yearsh, Melbourne….” He says, followed by some indecipherable mumbling, and finally, “Sorry about all the fuckin’ swearing.” He takes a defiant drag from a cigarette and grins broadly, revealing what little remains of his front teeth as the band burst into life with<i><b> </b><b>Streams Of Whiskey</b></i>. In those 22 years, <b>The Pogues </b>have gone through many changes before arriving here on what is their retirement tour. <b>MacGowan</b> was booted out for his out-of-control behavior, and the band recorded one album without him - which remains their last studio set – before going into hibernation. No new music means of course tonight is all golden-era <b>Pogues anthems</b>, pulled mainly from <b><i>Rum, Sodomy & The Lash</i></b> and <i><b>If I Should Fall From Grace With God</b></i>.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyKruhDFoI70vPq7JHD-gk9wOQ3Px54RhlcJNNc89oxL8nBKJabsq6t4hBZqQywMzlyDxkgE19cjnmvdb9NacLNmQXvsBfz2d906iRTWNTS8C7roEaC7e49NpKZiISI16EiTOPVPuH_RCL/s1600/POGUES3.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyKruhDFoI70vPq7JHD-gk9wOQ3Px54RhlcJNNc89oxL8nBKJabsq6t4hBZqQywMzlyDxkgE19cjnmvdb9NacLNmQXvsBfz2d906iRTWNTS8C7roEaC7e49NpKZiISI16EiTOPVPuH_RCL/s200/POGUES3.jpg" width="200" /></a>Despite the ever popular <b><i>Dirty Old Town</i></b> and the rousing <i><b>Fiesta</b></i>, Australian fans are clearly in favour of <b><i>The Band Played Waltzing Matilda</i></b>, and begin calling for it not three songs into the set. Shane introduces the boozy sing-a-long classic, but nobody seems sure what he’s actually saying in regards to it, and nor do we care. The chance to link arms with total strangers and sway to its waltzy tempo, shouting the refrain is all that matters now. If you’re not among the great heaving all-in sway, then you’re one of the brave bastards at the front, dodging crowd surfers and angrily moshing, or avoiding the projectile spit drops leaping from <b>MacGowan</b>’s ravaged mouth. The momentum changes dramatically though as Shane suddenly leaves the stage, hurling the microphone onto the floor, leaving more than a few of us wondering, ‘is that it?’.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnRwVCRnESpvT2z-qfOW3hMwZOk9dXcFvMx3EFyRoD02E5kLnbDlxzFSBRUc1D8Tz2EqO-1KJ9UIPak9JsmES22mFHBLp5hP99iF5RAzlLy6zdSoUEI1OYZi-nygzdnFe4KLAmj0ZqnDL/s1600/POGUES6.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAnRwVCRnESpvT2z-qfOW3hMwZOk9dXcFvMx3EFyRoD02E5kLnbDlxzFSBRUc1D8Tz2EqO-1KJ9UIPak9JsmES22mFHBLp5hP99iF5RAzlLy6zdSoUEI1OYZi-nygzdnFe4KLAmj0ZqnDL/s200/POGUES6.jpg" width="200" /></a>To be fair to <b>MacGowan</b>, he seems to be working hard on stage tonight and is as coherent as can be expected, but a brief exchange between himself and tin-whistle player (and one-time lead-singer) <b>Spider</b> <b>Stacey</b>, ends abruptly. The fray, it turns out was all bluff, yet the show reaches a turning point here.<b> Spider Stacey</b> reprises his one-time role as band leader for <b><i>Tuesday Morning</i></b> – the best <b>non-MacGowan Pogues song </b>– and the crowd, perhaps still wondering if Shane’s done a bunk, respond with folded arms. Personally, I love <b><i>Tuesday Morning</i></b>, and being the only person shouting his approval and pogoing around - I suddenly feel quite lonely in the packed venue. Thankfully, for the sake of recapturing the all-in atmosphere, <b>MacGowan </b>re-emerges - only this time he’s packing booze. Swigging from a bottle of red – most of which goes down his shirt, on the floor - and on the front row - he receives a bigger applause than his first appearance. It’s as though he’s suddenly complete in people’s eyes. The dribbling and shouting Shane is here at last but it’s hard to ignore the whole pantomime element to the sight. I guess some things are just too intertwined; <b>Iggy Pop</b> wouldn’t dare go on stage in a shirt, just as Pogues fans expect to see a certain amount of drunkenness for their dollar.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmMknR1nfhaoZPAgL_z3NTfMmTAjoHo7DsEaglqReQuqnpKOoRFyuCJ6Fkbf6yiruy02jsbLsHoS1-yHfMpjh5aNbHEwdActhuBdUVC1FRtAx61mv9WjIxVcn34LCXw9nvkXE-YiSq91UE/s1600/POGUES5.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmMknR1nfhaoZPAgL_z3NTfMmTAjoHo7DsEaglqReQuqnpKOoRFyuCJ6Fkbf6yiruy02jsbLsHoS1-yHfMpjh5aNbHEwdActhuBdUVC1FRtAx61mv9WjIxVcn34LCXw9nvkXE-YiSq91UE/s200/POGUES5.jpg" width="200" /></a>The playing-up-to-his-image thing is fine, but what surprises me is <b>MacGowan</b> is determined to make the songs sound good and is less concern with getting so smashed, that he sacrifice’s the ability to perform. It’s a big step for the man in my eyes, but maybe a let down for some here who perhaps were looking forward to a good first-hand <b>Shane MacGowan </b>crash and burn story, like what happened in the old days of the band. They’ve all learned a few lessons no doubt, but The Pogues still put on the best rabble at an age where many ‘former-greats’ are cranking out piss-weak covers album or flogging <i>Time Life</i> CD compilations on TV. The sight of a greying accordionist performing a stage-length knee-slide and a banjo being thrashed in the fashion of electric guitar still somehow suits this band of merry makers. It’s as though through playing Celtic-punk, they earn a golden pass to act anyway they please at whatever age. Besides, the encore consisting of <b><i>Sally MacLennane</i></b>, <b><i>Rainy Night In Soho</i></b> and <b><i>Fiesta </i></b>might well be one of the finest ever seen at Festival hall. <br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><h4 style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><u style="color: #0b5394;"><b>FESTIVAL HALL SETLIST: 04/04/2012</b></u></span></h4><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Streams Of Whiskey</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>If I Should Fall From Grace With God</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Broad Majestic Shannon</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Greenland Whale Fisheries</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>A Pair Of Brown Eyes</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Tuesday Morning</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Kitty</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Sunny Side Of The Street</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Repeal of the Licensing Laws</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>The Band Played Waltzing Matilda</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>The Body Of An American</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>The Boys From County Hell</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>Thousands Are Sailing</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>Dirty Old Town</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>Bottle Of Smoke</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>Sickbed of Cuchulain</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394;">encore:</div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>Sally MacLennane </i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>A Rainy Night In Soho</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>The Irish Rover</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>Poor Paddy On The Railway </i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><b><i>Fiesta</i></b><br />
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</div>lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-64658567352471525362012-03-23T03:02:00.001+11:002012-03-23T03:11:54.805+11:00Johnette Napolitano live at The Famous Spiegeltent (Melbourne): 2012<div style="color: orange; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJtnxf4_kWm-dZh_EoqN37CdeDRcjFXYIgbVNQpekBrX9ey-yWxgBm7BPai16ZNsDLqguTnkFY_ctyYVq6Dg8BLFCKl7TzQOa4njPDyVIiYtLEmWfJACknUknUxvajf5kij78rw0-5R7iv/s1600/832014-johnette-napolitano.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJtnxf4_kWm-dZh_EoqN37CdeDRcjFXYIgbVNQpekBrX9ey-yWxgBm7BPai16ZNsDLqguTnkFY_ctyYVq6Dg8BLFCKl7TzQOa4njPDyVIiYtLEmWfJACknUknUxvajf5kij78rw0-5R7iv/s400/832014-johnette-napolitano.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>Venue: Famous Spiegeltent</b></i></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i style="color: orange;"><b>Date: 15/03</b></i></span><br />
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</b><b>The Famous Spiegeltent, a 1920’s-era tent/saloon bar, complete with its original fittings is one of the last of its kind in the world. Images of Marlene Dietrich seducing a crowd of absinth-drinking bohemians or a thrilling display by trapeze artists come easy to the visitor, but its another ‘last of their kind’ that's pulled a full house tonight. </b><b>As striking as the venue is to the eye, it’s a real effort to take one’s focus away from Johnette Napolitano even for a moment during her short but engaging show in this iconic setting. </b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b><br />
</b>Not a lot of performers take stock of their career highlights with the relish shown by<b> Johnette Napolitano</b>, nor do they display the respect she does for her fans, and importantly, her own material. When the Italian/American singer is on stage, she is guttural, fragile, fascinating and hilarious as she participates in a one woman show as though there were multiple characters/musicians around her and the distinction between ‘them’ and ‘us’ is forgotten. It is occasionally disarming to feel such a close bond with the artist as she is performing on stage, but Napolitano is a great communicator above all things and for this one-hour session at least, sat in a bar somewhere, each and every one of us feel the warmth and ease of old friends chatting. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIr-_ph_n-MGxxlXJzXsG-oI6xB-pZlZtLy7bFkjz1Ol9pAvAMr_rHGP5ouE2nI64Bn4tzrmwDVWJL-AFvd4qvrVDn0KQcH1ryALF9ejIyjl11oJjDsdNOv6vClY51Jz6yKJ9pbjJO3qrm/s1600/Johnette.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIr-_ph_n-MGxxlXJzXsG-oI6xB-pZlZtLy7bFkjz1Ol9pAvAMr_rHGP5ouE2nI64Bn4tzrmwDVWJL-AFvd4qvrVDn0KQcH1ryALF9ejIyjl11oJjDsdNOv6vClY51Jz6yKJ9pbjJO3qrm/s320/Johnette.JPG" width="238" /></a>Being an actual career retrospective, poetry reading <i>and </i>storytelling set, there’s an added emotional breadth to the show. The fact that the concert is so short is one of the sadder aspects to it when you consider Napolitano’s incredible voice, prolific solo work and the many years fronting <b>Concrete Blonde</b>. Her appeal above many of her American contemporaries though is the fact that unlike them, Napolitano is apparently devoid of any ego and acknowledges that proper hard work is required to maintain any kind of life in the spotlight. She feels no sense of entitlement, but considers fortunate to be able to scrape a living from performing. At this stage, her three-night residency in Melbourne - titled <i><b>A Self Portrait: 2012</b></i> - suggests she has arrived at a point in her life that needed a line drawn under it. Her last visit to Melbourne was for the 20th anniversary of <b>Concrete Blonde</b>’s breakthrough album, <i><b>Bloodletting </b></i>in 2010, but these solo acoustic gigs are clearly much more personal affairs for her. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
The shows are segmented into music, poetry and significant tales of her life thus far, coinciding with a book she’s written about her song’s back-stories. The ‘songs’ element to the concert range from her first ever written piece at aged twelve – a charming but ultimately sinister conversation between a frog and a fruitfly – to cover versions which have become Johnette standards, and of course plenty of <b>Concrete Blonde</b> material. The poetry is good if not a little hurried as Johnette skips over her hand written notes as though she is concerned she is boring us. (She’s not). And finally, there is the storytelling. “This one’s a drinking song….” She offers at one point. “Oh fuck what am I saying… They’re <i>all</i> drinking songs!” And so begins the tale of <b><i>Joey</i></b>, <b>Concrete Blonde</b>’s most famous track. The subject in <i><b>Joey</b></i>, <b>Marc Moreland </b>from LA new-wave band <b>Wall Of Voodoo</b> – and former Johnette squeeze - succumbed to his drinking, she recalls, as the show shifts – but doesn’t dwell - into a serious tone. Her recently deceased father also receives a poetic tribute, and it dawns that Napolitano’s energetic, sharp wit hides a good deal of personal sadness.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2LYO88dt2OJfSMJXEnAUM44VSpCXYFmBLRjHRYdWWiuijxaxVYBCHrdYHAc-OGRgAdg7zzLYJUv8IRMqjDXbdJjZxoRPkGfT94yb6fdjIxCQGAHKm05R4_fdy7QthfU2jWP0JhHVQRGIc/s1600/Johnette2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2LYO88dt2OJfSMJXEnAUM44VSpCXYFmBLRjHRYdWWiuijxaxVYBCHrdYHAc-OGRgAdg7zzLYJUv8IRMqjDXbdJjZxoRPkGfT94yb6fdjIxCQGAHKm05R4_fdy7QthfU2jWP0JhHVQRGIc/s200/Johnette2.jpg" width="166" /></a>Further key moments in tonight’s show include a heart-stopping <i><b>Wedding Theme</b></i> which Napolitano wrote for the <b>Heath Ledger</b> film <i><b>Candy</b></i>. Performing it seems to bring the singer close to tears, yet with Jonette there are always the many laugh-out-loud moments to balance the mood. A spontaneous clap-along of <b>Amy Winehouse</b>’s <i><b>Rehab </b></i>during <b><i>Take Me Home</i></b>, for example adds a tongue-in-cheek angle to a somber, reflective song on excessive boozing. Also a roar of laughter follows Johnette’s mock anger at how ‘none of her friends drive fucking Porche’s… They’re always begging for lifts’ in an acapella cover of <b>Janis Joplin</b>’s <i><b>Mercedes Benz</b></i>. “Any requests?” Johnette asks finally from beneath her gigantic hat which barely hides her copious amount of long black hair. “<b><i>Wendy</i></b>!!!” Comes the unified reply from various points around the room. Unsurprising, as <i><b>Tomorrow Wendy</b></i> was many Australian’s first taste of Napolitano’s voice and the song’s impact has never abated.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
Musician’s biographies usually focus on a few on the road hi-jinx, album sessions and in-band relationships, but often they make the reader feel like they are peeking into a foreign, unreachable world. But within one hour of doing her ‘live biography’, Johnette completely broke down the wall between artist and fan. Her openness itself makes her relatable. Even if most of us don’t live in the Mojave Desert, or front alternative rock bands, Johnette’s driven by the things that connect us all. Her parting words to her audience is a reassurance to everybody present, as well as herself, as though she knows instinctively what draws people to her music in the first place; “The sun will come out tomorrow and things will be better. I promise.” <br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2LYO88dt2OJfSMJXEnAUM44VSpCXYFmBLRjHRYdWWiuijxaxVYBCHrdYHAc-OGRgAdg7zzLYJUv8IRMqjDXbdJjZxoRPkGfT94yb6fdjIxCQGAHKm05R4_fdy7QthfU2jWP0JhHVQRGIc/s1600/Johnette2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-84944235596254198452012-03-12T01:41:00.001+11:002012-07-03T01:36:27.864+10:00Roxette: live in Melbourne, 2012<div style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSvgpbe37qyd2mlj8q7hpyQgPn_bTXUBEhxJCUy_AA0spY3RfQtSiJH7rjjCZdL-BGL1w48s_vmW2WrsUB5QsTMGkIvtYdtG0sEKcvVlx_9gwCjTHGgV1oAly5Zwy-swiYs3ScLjn8lSG/s1600/ROXETTE.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglSvgpbe37qyd2mlj8q7hpyQgPn_bTXUBEhxJCUy_AA0spY3RfQtSiJH7rjjCZdL-BGL1w48s_vmW2WrsUB5QsTMGkIvtYdtG0sEKcvVlx_9gwCjTHGgV1oAly5Zwy-swiYs3ScLjn8lSG/s400/ROXETTE.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b><i>Venue: Rod Laver Arena</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Date: 18/02/2012</i></b></span></div>
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<b>Swedish duo Roxette have endured as a pretty successful band for around 25 years, both here and around the world. However, somewhere along the line, attention to them waned in Australia, whose love for the band’s edgy pop/rock songs was unrelenting early on, evidenced by a string of top 40 hits between 1989 and 1993. The latest album, <i>Charm School </i>was released last year but with little local fanfare - just as the bulk of contemporary Roxette albums - so a ‘90s-heavy setlist is in order for the Swede’s first Aussie show in 17 years. </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONkXmNjtg0OHWczljYeHL1wVFevBi_Pz9azFlMsmHzaoBszFIWZIJPsoZnelZIfCs4Qff-Bgn59PoGBBP9nSCRLWwZ38r8OkpjfOtTDd8xhWEVFpsaRQVDctN-c97oGWE8gNSwXCePw3h/s1600/ROXETTE2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONkXmNjtg0OHWczljYeHL1wVFevBi_Pz9azFlMsmHzaoBszFIWZIJPsoZnelZIfCs4Qff-Bgn59PoGBBP9nSCRLWwZ38r8OkpjfOtTDd8xhWEVFpsaRQVDctN-c97oGWE8gNSwXCePw3h/s320/ROXETTE2.jpg" width="221" /></a>The songs selected for their current tour offered both an interesting peek into Roxette’s idea of what would best appease their Australian audiences, and what they themselves feel works best live. These two notions work to varying degrees of success in what is a tremendously fun, yet occasionally flawed concert. Considerable time is given to 1991 album, <b><i>Joyride </i></b>for example, which errs on the side of ‘too much’, while breakthrough set, <b><i>Look Sharp</i></b> is under-represented in a way. Later releases, <i><b>Have A Nice Day </b></i>and <b><i>Room Service </i></b>are all but forgotten, but the general polite applause offered to anything post 1994 possibly scared the band out of getting too clever with the set list. After all, the last time Roxette moved mass units here, it was in the form of cassingles sales – so naturally they drew a full crowd of fans who see them as more a nostalgia act. Energetic guitarist/songwriter, <b>Per Gessle</b> – looking in exquisite shape for his age – accepts this fact; “We’re going to play a few songs off our new album <i><b>Charm School</b></i>…. (muted response) but mostly we’re gonna be playing all your favourite <b>Roxette classics!</b>” (thunderous applause.) </div>
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Perhaps Roxette are a nostalgia act in terms of ‘when they had hits’, but you can hardly call their later material a weak by comparison. 2011 single, <i><b>She’s Got Nothing On (But The Radio) </b></i>is pure pop heaven, showing only the tiniest shift to what we might call an ‘updated sound’ for a band who never really change what they do, and hey why would they… the formula works. Aside from the songs, the band is also highly functional – most are the original touring line-up from the early days - and it shows in their polished precision. For many here tonight though it’s all about that platinum blonde chick with the incredible voice that so many mistakenly referred to as Roxette herself; <b>Marie Fredriksson</b>. In concert, Marie is all about poise and delivery. She can do intimate, she can do subtle, she can soar and she can even roar when required. Even still, the plucky, white-funk of <b><i>Dressed For Success</i></b> proves to be a bastard to sing. Marie is at an age where her vocal range is gradually lowering therefore, the songs she sang as a 20 year-old are not going to be resplendent with the all up-and-down-the-scale glory. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifF9m61Yd242dk1Ymoc4GQ5SKWMTiKbqL08-RYI9T8t32lZiSXN-Ec6P42gl_A6pnW3boJsw-t_uI29_Y40Yn3gpI9_bCoINqylSFjxPawooO3Z7fy_h-i_H_MKI-WZXT0lYftYz2gg59U/s1600/ROXETTE3.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifF9m61Yd242dk1Ymoc4GQ5SKWMTiKbqL08-RYI9T8t32lZiSXN-Ec6P42gl_A6pnW3boJsw-t_uI29_Y40Yn3gpI9_bCoINqylSFjxPawooO3Z7fy_h-i_H_MKI-WZXT0lYftYz2gg59U/s400/ROXETTE3.jpg" width="400" /></a>These changes to familiar songs are at first jarring but over the course of the show, that slightly rougher vocal style becomes enchanting. Several times, as if to highlight Fredricksson’s deeper register, the band bow out and allow her to sing accapella for a few bars and it never fails to impress. A run of back-to-back power ballads gives Marie further chance to shine but Roxette are always a greater option when she and Gessle duet. <i><b>How Do You Do!</b></i>, <b><i>Joyride</i></b> and <i><b>Dangerous</b></i> lift the roof with the power of their combined voices and you wonder why they don’t just make ‘em all like that. Marie’s own <b><i>It Must Have Been Love</i></b> - which gets a wordy introduction as the song that ‘paved their way to Hollywood’ – suddenly makes perfect sense in an arena-proportioned building. Then just as the pleasant, uplifting vibrations seem to be in unending quantities, the pre-encore exodus is upon us - and I do mean exodus. For a hundred or so fans, the best bits have already been and gone, so either they’ve never been to a concert before or the babysitter’s about to start earning overtime. Us left behind are dealt an almost wonderful<i><b> Listen To Your Heart</b></i> - which sadly never quite gets off the ground - and a bizarre <b><i>Church Of Your Heart</i></b>, which just sounds a bit too Sunday school sing-a-long church-y weirdness making it a bit of a soggy blanket among an otherwise well chosen set. Still, it feels wrong picking fault with Roxette, especially after a storming, <b><i>The Look</i></b> which concluded the main set. Basically, we were witness to one of the finest bands in their field, especially when you consider many of the subsequent rubbish acts who now represent the Europop scene. Even if their time is past, Roxette at least remind us of a really fantastic time in pop music, when the composers/song writers were also the performers and the reality TV schlock was still unheard of. This alone makes it a time worth revisiting and even relishing. <br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b></div>
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<b style="color: #0b5394;"><u>ROD LAVER SET-LIST, 18/02/12</u><i><br />
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<b><i>Dressed For Success</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Sleeping In My Car</i></b></div>
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<b><i>The Big L</i></b></div>
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<b><i>I Wish I Could Fly</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Only When I Dream</i></b></div>
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<b><i>She's Got Nothing On (But The Radio)</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Perfect Day</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Things Will Never Be The Same</i></b></div>
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<b><i>It Must Have Been Love</i></b></div>
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<b><i>7Twenty7</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Fading Like A Flower</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Crash! Boom! Bang!<br />
How Do You Do</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Dangerous</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Joyride</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Watercolours In The Rain</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Spending My Time</i></b></div>
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<b><i>The Look</i></b></div>
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<b>encore<i>:</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Listen To Your Heart</i></b></div>
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<b><i>Church Of Your Heart</i></b></div>
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<br /></div>lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-24055296814716661202012-03-08T14:33:00.004+11:002012-03-09T14:51:01.969+11:00Nile Rodgers in-store Q&A at Polyester Records<div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYtzrMv4rrxP5kBBpzX4dUFw1ejWlBjPClmcCEc8ZIdkFiERqNvfx_4fZZCAIB1SkqY3beKoWugijrpBzYGngzPvOfV9ed1Hc-Vsh6nparHUVvvo2UxQAAkeUvYqgHVRD8k2eJakJm1_Av/s1600/NILE.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYtzrMv4rrxP5kBBpzX4dUFw1ejWlBjPClmcCEc8ZIdkFiERqNvfx_4fZZCAIB1SkqY3beKoWugijrpBzYGngzPvOfV9ed1Hc-Vsh6nparHUVvvo2UxQAAkeUvYqgHVRD8k2eJakJm1_Av/s400/NILE.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: orange;"><i>Legendary dance producer, songwriter and now story-teller wows an intimate audience at inner city Melbourne record shop.</i></b></span><br />
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<b>Whenever the subject is music, and no matter how banal it might seem to the eve’s-dropper, you’ll always find me tingling in a nerdy haze as the speaker proffers some tidbit or insight that might be new to me. You see, I think about it all the time (as George Michael once confessed, although regarding an entirely different subject), and can usually hold my own in a frothing discussion about anyone from XTC to Right Said Fred. However, us music trivia tragic’s sometimes encounter a golden egg-laying goose of such magnitude, we can do nothing but mentally drop to our knees and bow, chanting, “We’re not worthy… We’re not worthy!” In the last three or so years alone, I’ve had insights into some of music’s most intriguing characters during interviews, but an encounter with one Nile Rodgers at an in-store Q&A session would instantly overshadow even the most tingle-inducing sound-bite.</b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhqOEIrAo9DxkoX_amA30JkV4PjdchuRBs7GnDVBiwqCdjX0f9f0QC2du4FGVIC8ZStDrRibPXZ4KTWlT1ez48hyphenhyphen4IMp2l0LsOjrwD60gmjT-7VrJg1tlugiPyMY4dYiWLObSOh1uBfb8L/s1600/NILE03.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhqOEIrAo9DxkoX_amA30JkV4PjdchuRBs7GnDVBiwqCdjX0f9f0QC2du4FGVIC8ZStDrRibPXZ4KTWlT1ez48hyphenhyphen4IMp2l0LsOjrwD60gmjT-7VrJg1tlugiPyMY4dYiWLObSOh1uBfb8L/s200/NILE03.jpg" width="167" /></a>Rodgers’ was in town to promote two things; His career retrospective in concert along with <b>Chic </b>– the band he was best known for – and his new autobiography. The addition of a music shop meet and greet session allowed fans to ask the man himself the stories behind the ridiculous amount of hit songs he helped create as a writer/producer, as his discography will contest. Although the most remarkable story Nile shared with the hundred or so fans piled into <b>Polyester Records</b> tiny city store, was not of his involvement with music at all, but of pure survival against some pretty heavy odds. At just 13 years of age, his mother – a New York native living in near-poverty – became pregnant during her first sexual experience. Nile recalls interviewing her for his bio with grace and wit, but the reality was quite shocking. A failed backyard abortion resulted in Nile’s unwanted birth, and as everyone held their breath for the stories conclusion, he hits us further with tales of a childhood spent in foster care and criminal activity. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
The one beacon of hope in Nile’s young life was music, and a pure imagination which he described as vivid beyond most of our comprehension. “I sound-tracked life in my head.” He claims, “I would be out playing with the other kids and I would hear music in my head every single moment of the day.” Over the course of his eventually charmed life, Nile seemingly was in the right place at the right time with unnerving regularity. Following his nightclub debut with <b>The Big Apple Band</b> – who became <b>Chic</b>, once the BAB name was ‘borrowed’ by a more well established act – Nile got his big break. The Chic song, <b><i>Everybody Dance </i></b>became a massive club hit, earning Rodger’s the respected title of the “<b><i>Everybody Dance</i> guy</b>” for a time. “People would come up to me, all smiles, and be like; “Hey brother man, I can’t believe I’m meeting the <i>Everybody Dance </i>guy!”<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTkGdRagLGez0x39YAm7v1UlvEi3Jg4Xj8LwsER6UQm6GUqkcDeHFD7LbgepDoPSPBZAht16NNPWMdW5bzkQS6nxhATaNGxRmAKQp5LeZ03cEMyAbWsa7TpMccYeofF4kR7uhITxfZZvyE/s1600/NILE02.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="131" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTkGdRagLGez0x39YAm7v1UlvEi3Jg4Xj8LwsER6UQm6GUqkcDeHFD7LbgepDoPSPBZAht16NNPWMdW5bzkQS6nxhATaNGxRmAKQp5LeZ03cEMyAbWsa7TpMccYeofF4kR7uhITxfZZvyE/s200/NILE02.jpg" width="200" /></a>Nile is sat with his guitar at the ready, and his talk is punctuated by bursts of whatever song he’s in discussion about. “<b>Diana Ross</b> made this one famous”. He smiles, as <b><i>I’m Coming Out</i></b> leaps from the amp. Rodger’s in his best Diana Ross falsetto sings; “I’m coming out, I want the world to know, got to let it show…” Recalling the moment of inspiration for this song, Nile is side-splittingly hilarious. “I was in a gay club, and it was just after a show with Chic – I’d say it was early 1980 – I went to the bathroom and while I was there, I noticed three drag queens - all dressed as <b>Diana Ross</b> - standing next to me peeing!” The image is so outrageous, laughter suddenly fills the air. “I thought to myself, I gotta write a song for Diana Ross, she<i> must</i> be huge!” The single was written and to this day Ross begins every show with it, Nile tells us. One fan asks about the hidden meaning, in some of Nile’s songs, to which he replies, “The meaning of <i><b>I’m Coming Out</b></i>… That was the only song I ever lied to the artist about! Diana Ross asked me was it a gay song, and she was worried what that might do to her career, can you believe it?” He laughs, “All I said was, it’s like you’re ‘intro song’… When you ‘come out’ on stage, this is the song you come out playing – it’s like ‘I have arrived’!” He enthuses. “The record company thought a ‘gay song’ would be career suicide, so I kept quiet about that, but you know what Diana Ross’s biggest record is to this day…?” Rodgers smiles the smile of a man who subverted the clueless record label honchos and is met with more cheering and applause.<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirL32vF3i_oU2YNSR2JcGLFl3dw0c6V4gmcusRSbyNHw72PwQWfsftgIiT8Kh7aCdccebW9ppaIkj2qkt9DSSfbwjFr_SzEIuLev9CQ6ccKI8C2VfXQb2mscad3xCmtnfGf10-mwrij6J1/s1600/Me+and+NILE+ROGERS.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirL32vF3i_oU2YNSR2JcGLFl3dw0c6V4gmcusRSbyNHw72PwQWfsftgIiT8Kh7aCdccebW9ppaIkj2qkt9DSSfbwjFr_SzEIuLev9CQ6ccKI8C2VfXQb2mscad3xCmtnfGf10-mwrij6J1/s200/Me+and+NILE+ROGERS.JPG" width="150" /></a>Although we could have happily stayed and listened to Nile freestyle about making deals with gangsters to secure artist contracts, surviving cancer or dropping acid in central park – “every step I took, the buildings and trees took a step with me” – but his tight schedule cut in to what was nothing short of a feast for the ears. “One last question,” He says, irritating his tour manager. A fan asks about <b>David Bowie</b> and Nile’s involvement on <b><i>Let’s Dance</i></b>. “You all know this one, right?” Cue Nile and one hundred joyous music nerds crooning Bowie at the top of our voices, as bemused onlookers flocked to the window of the shop to see what all the racket’s about. Nile ends his visit by personally meeting with and signing stuff for everybody who came to share in a little bit of his story, yet it was the camp-fire sing-a-long conclusion of <b><i>Let’s Dance</i></b>, that trumped just about everything. It was quite simply one of the most remarkable live music moments I’ve had here in Melbourne despite all the cramming in of gigs after gigs. Nile shared some of his life’s most amazing moments, but more than that, he gave every one who turned up to see him an amazing memory of their own to take away. <br />
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<b>lEIGh5</b><br />
<b> </b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzutxPYnv_aGJxlvr2xWQsU6SFPXxIlJUNgkOwaGVxH3na9zhqB22MwPUliE5yrGm6Y1SxLtW1mVsXZUbDnd7HXSSrQDi13Ck4rsp5mXjAcRitd1lwZx0qjJ7QDUL-rkRa4oJ74Y2V8qy/s1600/NILE05.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzutxPYnv_aGJxlvr2xWQsU6SFPXxIlJUNgkOwaGVxH3na9zhqB22MwPUliE5yrGm6Y1SxLtW1mVsXZUbDnd7HXSSrQDi13Ck4rsp5mXjAcRitd1lwZx0qjJ7QDUL-rkRa4oJ74Y2V8qy/s400/NILE05.JPG" width="400" /></a><b style="color: #0b5394;"><i><u> </u></i></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b style="color: #0b5394;"><i><u>SELECTED NILE RODGERS WRITING/PRODUCTION WORK:</u></i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Chic - Everybody Dance</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Chic - Le Freak</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Diana Ross - Upside Down</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Diana Ross - I'm Coming Out</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Sister Sledge - Love Somebody Today</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Deborah Harry - Koo Koo </i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>David Bowie - Let's Dance</i></b><br />
<b><i>David Bowie - Black Tie, White Noise </i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Madonna - Like A Virgin</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Duran Duran - Reflex </i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Duran Duran - Notorious</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Thompson Twins - Here's To Future Days</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Laurie Anderson - Home Of The Brave</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>The B-52s - Cosmic Thing</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>The B-52s - Good Stuff </i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>INXS - Original Sin</i></b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: justify;"><b><i>Grace Jones - Inside Story</i></b><br />
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</div>lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-68726775835186000102012-03-04T16:03:00.005+11:002012-03-05T14:25:31.116+11:00New Order: live in Melbourne, 2012 (review)<div style="color: orange; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSCStC3pfBIY1RtJLQCVmNouBA1iVhR-9rZZeAZu6C-90oU8gakz2N3TsUEREL_yji438qolVShVPz3e-tl1n0nVB-6P8eP5Q9GdIM_guv0X2vFmPSx2fvKAZLvLr49azWY6GRU9mpk1H4/s1600/NEW+ORDER25.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSCStC3pfBIY1RtJLQCVmNouBA1iVhR-9rZZeAZu6C-90oU8gakz2N3TsUEREL_yji438qolVShVPz3e-tl1n0nVB-6P8eP5Q9GdIM_guv0X2vFmPSx2fvKAZLvLr49azWY6GRU9mpk1H4/s400/NEW+ORDER25.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Venue: Festival Hall</i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: orange; font-size: large;"><b><i>Date: 01/03/2012 </i></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;">Increasingly desperate shouts of “C’mon!” punctuates each chorus of <i><b>Love Will Tear Us Apart</b></i>, as New Order reach the end of their first Australian concert in 11 years. Front man, <b>Bernard Sumner </b>wants us to show him exactly how much we love the song and how much we’ve missed his band. His enthusiastic cry is stunning and muscular, as it may well be. After all, <b>Joy Division</b>’s swan song will forever be a significant marker in New Order’s career. But their set tonight is nothing but continual proof of how much the band achieved subsequently, and is presented as a chance for them to share every mile stone – beautifully framed and hung - with their unwavering supporters.<br />
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The framing in this case is the fascinating visual projections accompanying each song. Film producer <b>Michael Shamberg</b> and graphic artist <b>Peter Saville</b> gave New Order’s music a very specific identity and here these songs and images combine to transport us to the heart of the <b>Hacienda </b>dance floor, sometime in the mid-1980s. The band manage the near impossible and deftly shift the atmosphere in Festival Hall like some alien race adapting its environment after a hostile take over. Resistance is not an option worth entertaining either. “Sorry about the weather…” Sumner apologises at one point, ”it feels a lot like home tonight.” As the words leave his mouth, vintage video footage of the band playing an early show in the actual <b>Hacienda </b>suddenly fill the screen, and they launch into a “never played live before” <i><b>Here To Stay</b></i>. The film, <b><i>24 Hour Party People</i></b> told the whole story of the Hacienda’s importance to the Manchester scene; but the venue had significance enough for New Order to be immortalized in song. New Order’s true celebration of their past begins at this point - albeit in reverse order - but then there are also those bits of their past they’d rather soon forget.<br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJcOo5IpU_kQiOxViCw_8PapyHyAcQhq2eSYAs7qG4728Ps_REN5RYEXsWwXKoC5S7S9eZp5uRq7_Fwp5A8-XH-xJ6CBzFqPspooYm_2mIkk8xP0LRTSQbqb-KJV1XNqsybOIYnTMnom1/s1600/NEW+ORDER26.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBJcOo5IpU_kQiOxViCw_8PapyHyAcQhq2eSYAs7qG4728Ps_REN5RYEXsWwXKoC5S7S9eZp5uRq7_Fwp5A8-XH-xJ6CBzFqPspooYm_2mIkk8xP0LRTSQbqb-KJV1XNqsybOIYnTMnom1/s400/NEW+ORDER26.jpg" width="400" /></a> In all the pre-tour media, as expected the focus was on matters of new band members (bassist <b>Tom Chapman </b>and guitarist <b>Phil Cunningham</b>) and the absence of <b>Peter Hook</b>. Its hardly the elephant in the room, but Sumner addresses it all the same tonight, “Oh look, we’ve got a new base player... How about that?” We cheer and welcome the slightly altered line-up, and if any Hooky die-hards are here tonight, they’re keeping pretty quiet. Chapman (Hook’s stand-in) chugs through the set with all the precision and fat riffs the songs were built on, smashing any worries that ‘it wouldn’t be the same without <i>him</i>’. There are plenty more standard New Order-isms in place to distract from the absent Hook and his famous low-slung bass stance anyway. A recently returned<b> Gillian Gilbert </b>is frozen behind her keyboard, serenely jabbing out those renowned melodies in apparent deep concentration; the very picture of familiarity. Sumner is bopping his head, eyes closed as he sings into a mic held delicately by one hand; as all images of him in concert will support. These details, along with a distinctly retro light show bring so much warmth on this wet, drizzly night.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKxHznPRHWPeh4-YuaYXATFNTeH_jmiaHwqaXjggtA__FxDuvCQQZ4S7eIl91OCdMToe1YHq6p4Qb2zWSFI3NC46Tajwmve5la5D52QSDVdbGZOaaaUREzIP2wa2lRamTX88cgIm5N481b/s1600/New+Order19.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKxHznPRHWPeh4-YuaYXATFNTeH_jmiaHwqaXjggtA__FxDuvCQQZ4S7eIl91OCdMToe1YHq6p4Qb2zWSFI3NC46Tajwmve5la5D52QSDVdbGZOaaaUREzIP2wa2lRamTX88cgIm5N481b/s200/New+Order19.jpg" width="150" /></a>The set is packed with carefully chosen ‘signature hits’ from start to finish, but the strong start – <b><i>Elegia</i></b>, <i><b>Crystal</b></i>, <i><b>Regret </b></i>– sees only sporadic pockets of dancing from the cross-generational crowd. It’s <b><i>True Faith </i></b>at the midway point that finally brings the crowd to full, pulsing life, while <b><i>Bizarre Love Triangle</i></b> starts the closest thing to a mosh pit seen all night. It’s during this track I notice members of <b>System Of A Down </b>watching motionless from the side of the stage, casually chewing bubble gum, perhaps even harbouring a little envy after their own lackluster Soundwave sideshow show the night before. New Order, despite being a much older band, never sound tired or careless with the material. Sumner’s never been the most powerful vocalist, but following a fantastic <b><i>1963</i></b>, he gives himself a mental pat on the back for striking ever note. “That was the best one so far tonight, I think.” He grins. The audience might argue that point though – <b><i>Temptation </i></b>as with <b><i>True Faith</i></b> is a clear favourite, still sounding incredibly fresh at 31 years-old, although it takes a good minute to become familiar. Many of the older tracks have been sharpened up, extended and even remixed with the help of some sweet advances in live electronic music re-creation, but the focus never really drifts too far from the ‘live band’ sound.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi36WERbtEZYiUc5Qrodqg73xJHjCX0iwMVIv2XnbUpmsMior-9N0FYKcr3CgGc0jnwP7Zepw1zxMM_dpmhnn71Fuf34YF1RWb1_Ebx9uyKvYax4hrQFISeI0xBiTQNyvW_SHgcYgmTI05I/s1600/New+Order17.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi36WERbtEZYiUc5Qrodqg73xJHjCX0iwMVIv2XnbUpmsMior-9N0FYKcr3CgGc0jnwP7Zepw1zxMM_dpmhnn71Fuf34YF1RWb1_Ebx9uyKvYax4hrQFISeI0xBiTQNyvW_SHgcYgmTI05I/s200/New+Order17.jpg" width="151" /></a>They are going to close with you-know-what, but after a brief exodus, New Order return to the stage in silhouette for an encore which is still loaded with expectations. <i><b>Blue Monday</b></i>’s juddering beats begin from out of nowhere. The stage is in darkness except for an animated orb roving around the drop screen, and on cue, the audience clap in time. Sumner finally emerges to join the others, just as his vocal part is scheduled to begin and blue light saturates every corner of the hall. For the moment I’m all goose-bumps, and believe me it’s not cold in here.<b><i> Blue Monday</i></b>’s in-concert life actually began in Australia on the band’s 1983 tour where it was first ‘road tested’. I can’t help thinking its debut was a huge hit with local crowds even back then, otherwise would we even be chanting its haiku-like verses three decade later? Thanks to things such as setlist.fm, we knew there was no second encore coming, so the final applause seemed unfittingly brief.<br />
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Having grown up knowing New Order’s later material first, I was still left with the feeling that this was as authentic an experience of a ‘classic New Order show’ as anyone could want. Maybe they’re a few kilos heavier, and they’ve tidied up their sound and lost a member or two, but nothing about this concert spelled desperate last stab at relevance. If anything, the celebration of their musical history was indicative of a bright future at a stage in their career where there is no certainty at all beyond this tour. Here’s hoping the show was as good for them as it was for us and it isn’t long before we get to party with New Order like its 1989 all over again.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>lEIGh5</b><br />
<b> </b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8W-ggIEAmfzrGW6pCPKTSpB3dSsRjjYyqtyVmDAH1cMtLP3htUxa08vrtBRpZeqyAp_cijjRGibEdp2laQn0zlOrULCILMQygraFFCCvDoicCV36LsQIRgF8BIvwohSZiqD5MbI8g62x/s1600/NEW+ORDER27.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8W-ggIEAmfzrGW6pCPKTSpB3dSsRjjYyqtyVmDAH1cMtLP3htUxa08vrtBRpZeqyAp_cijjRGibEdp2laQn0zlOrULCILMQygraFFCCvDoicCV36LsQIRgF8BIvwohSZiqD5MbI8g62x/s400/NEW+ORDER27.jpg" width="400" /></a><b> </b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><u><b>FESTIVAL HALL SET-LIST:</b></u></span></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b><br />
Elegia</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>Crystal</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>Regret</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>Ceremony</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>Age Of Consent</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>Here To Stay</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>Krafty</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>1963</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>Bizarre Love Triangle</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>True Faith</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>5-8-6</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>The Perfect Kiss</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>Temptation</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><b>encore:</b></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>Blue Monday</b></i></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"><i><b>Love Will Tear Us Apart</b></i><br />
</div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8W-ggIEAmfzrGW6pCPKTSpB3dSsRjjYyqtyVmDAH1cMtLP3htUxa08vrtBRpZeqyAp_cijjRGibEdp2laQn0zlOrULCILMQygraFFCCvDoicCV36LsQIRgF8BIvwohSZiqD5MbI8g62x/s1600/NEW+ORDER27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8W-ggIEAmfzrGW6pCPKTSpB3dSsRjjYyqtyVmDAH1cMtLP3htUxa08vrtBRpZeqyAp_cijjRGibEdp2laQn0zlOrULCILMQygraFFCCvDoicCV36LsQIRgF8BIvwohSZiqD5MbI8g62x/s1600/NEW+ORDER27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a></div>lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6122466195361306018.post-78296717777204418382012-02-24T14:55:00.021+11:002012-10-09T23:23:21.682+11:00Gillian Gilbert (New Order) interview: 2012<div style="color: orange; text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZq1gZIoKPuVbLKdsl8TteYjqk9UBSl9qTdbEcQnNkUXNcR09b9Jiuuzkmw0XJ4R3_kejpj3QRweYDSiSM1cF3DRNguD2ozE0o142OKGA1u8_bHD59swzqVUVPf-HX510Jpm8zvQvkKome/s1600/NEW6.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZq1gZIoKPuVbLKdsl8TteYjqk9UBSl9qTdbEcQnNkUXNcR09b9Jiuuzkmw0XJ4R3_kejpj3QRweYDSiSM1cF3DRNguD2ozE0o142OKGA1u8_bHD59swzqVUVPf-HX510Jpm8zvQvkKome/s400/NEW6.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>RE-NEWED ENERGY</i></b></span></div>
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<b>Gillian Gilbert is at the Macclesfield country home she shares with husband/New Order drummer, Stephen Morris when I phone. She immediately slips into a relaxed chatty mode, happy to discuss New Order’s past, present and future – after all, it’s been a long time since any typical band activities – rehearsals, touring, international press, New Order itself, have encroached on the keyboardist’s life. The 32nd inconsistent year of the iconic band’s existence is upon us, and Gillian, as with each member at some point or other, is a little surprised to be back. “You just never know with us what to expect, really.” She understates. However, New Order’s latest reunion is a very different story to previous times. The silence that followed the band’s last album - 2005’s <i>Waiting For The Siren’s Call</i> - was broken by a statement in 2007 - apparently from within the group’s ranks – that New Order were ‘no more, and never likely to be again’. </b></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b style="color: #0b5394;">New Order, 1980</b></td></tr>
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However that announcement, which was made by (now ex) bassist <b>Peter Hook</b>,<b> </b>was news to his band-mates, as it turned out, he was the only one at that particular meeting. This ultimately proved to be Hook's first action in a mounting slash-n-burn of his own legacy. His subsequent plundering of <b>Joy Division</b>’s back catalogue and threats of legal action against the remainder of <b>New Order</b> (for using the name without his involvement) are now matters for the public to cast opinion on, but New Order’s surprise return in late 2011 - excluding Hook - implies a solidarity within the group still exists and is willed to power in even the roughest of times. But then their name always did suggest 'purposeful leadership' - along with vaguely hierarchical connotations - which all seemed very cocky considering they essentially began in 1980 as<b> </b>'<b>Joy Division</b>; minus the popular singer'. As <b>New Order</b>, they chose a new lead singer basically on the flip of a coin, and for a time nobody in their right mind would have bet on a future for the band. Perhaps though, it’s that ‘unlikely rise’ from potential post-<b>Ian Curtis</b> obscurity that formed the catalyst for New Order’s ‘survive anything’ mentality. Few bands after all have endured their level of disharmony from outside and within their own ranks, so it’s not such a surprise, that in the wake of a very public battle with Hook, their passion has again beaten their hate.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDrUXbitd6HpmT5o6qTSmG9sjJyQchWAJ44G06Q4y4y4OfCWoz1FblEn5p662NIZ1m9UnkWPTpTU7_hhhz5nOxcjoux8KJfFZxy6IlJG27wvsSZQyGvOqn-DPlJG_JH_aUCIhqnf3_lFft/s1600/NEW7.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDrUXbitd6HpmT5o6qTSmG9sjJyQchWAJ44G06Q4y4y4OfCWoz1FblEn5p662NIZ1m9UnkWPTpTU7_hhhz5nOxcjoux8KJfFZxy6IlJG27wvsSZQyGvOqn-DPlJG_JH_aUCIhqnf3_lFft/s200/NEW7.jpg" width="200" /></a><b>Bernard Sumner</b>, <b>Gillian Gilbert</b> and <b>Steven Morris</b> re-united as New Order last year with a new bassist <b>Tom Chapman</b> and second guitarist <b>Phil Cunningham</b>. On the eve of their first Australian visit with the new line-up - and with no new album to promote – Gillian surely speaks for the whole band when she says that this reunion was a more ‘tentative one’ than previous times. “We didn’t really know how it (touring a new line-up) was going be received by the New Order fans, or if the interest would even still be there. But we have come to think of this time as like a new beginning, really.” The first <b>New Order</b> show without <b>Hook</b> was intended as a one-off benefit gig for long-time friend of New Order’s, <b>Michael Shamberg</b> – a film producer responsible for the bulk of New Order’s stylish and surreal music videos - who became terminally ill. It was also the first show to feature Gillian back behind the keyboard following her indefinite departure in 2000 to look after her sick daughter, “I missed just being with everybody.” She recalls, “It took me a long time to get used to <i>not</i> being in New Order.” The line-up was completed by members of Sumner’s other band, <b>Bad Lieutenant</b> but the obvious Hook-shaped hole in the band raised potential problems for the long term.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b style="color: #0b5394;">Performing <i>Blue Monday</i> on <i>TOTP,</i> '83.</b></td></tr>
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“We were quite scared about doing a fully fledged tour with new band members, because we had to of course work out if Tom could cope with such a big part to play.” Gillian offers, “So instead of barging back into the spotlight as it were, and announcing some big ‘come-back‘ tour, we took small steps.” <b>Tom Chapman</b> will inevitably be compared to Hook at every show on the tour but, Gillian notes, it’s wrong to assume he’s merely imitating. “Tom isn’t copying Hooky, he has his own style of playing. Tom wasn’t there when we recorded those songs, and so it stands to reason that he hears them differently to Hooky and has his own take on them.” New member’s aside, the current New Order live show reflects on the band’s past now more than ever, and the visual identity created around New Order’s music. Gilbert explains, “In the past it was always about touring to promote a new album or whatever, but preparing for <b>Michael Shamberg</b>’s benefit concert, forced us to listen to a lot of our older material – some of which we haven’t played live since the ‘80s – and create a set list to go along with a lot of the videos he produced.” Those videos, including <b><i>Blue Monday’</i></b>s oddly posed dogs, <b><i>Bizarre Love Triangle</i></b>’s falling suited men and <b><i>True Faith</i></b>’s mime artists gone feral are images as iconic as the songs themselves, Gillian agrees.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/cTjyiWKIOX0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<b style="color: #0b5394;"><i>the classic 'True Faith' video</i></b><br />
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“I’ve always loved what Michael did with <b><i>True Faith</i></b> especially.” The video, which features costumed dancers performing increasingly violent, synchronised routines, thinly hides the band’s most overt drug-referencing in a song. <b><i>True Faith </i></b>– the song and video - was one of the first to drag underground club culture into the mainstream, where it was immediately deemed ‘unsavory’. “I remember <b>Radio One</b> refused to play it unless we changed some of the words.” The original lyric “<i>Now that we’ve grown up together/they’re all taking drugs with me</i>” was tamed down to “<i>Now that we’ve grown up together/they’re afraid of what they see</i>”. “It was never about promoting, or glamorising anything though,” Gillian adds, “Meanwhile, nearly every song on the radio now it seems, is loaded with drug references, only it doesn’t seem to be an issue anymore. Is it shock for the sake of shock value? Yes, I think so.” And if any band should know, it’s New Order.<b> </b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="color: #0b5394; text-align: center;"><b><i>Keyboardist Gilbert, also <br />
occasionally played guitar in NO.</i></b></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<b>Madchester</b>, Baggy, Acid House, and a slew of other music/drug-related sub-cultures have all been credited to New Order’s influence on music, but a scene was already in the making, born from a rapid rise in street-level music creation and a potentially destructive new wave of party drugs. New Order simply provided the best possible soundtrack for whether you were going out, or coming down. The scene bloomed within the well documented home of <b>Tony Wilson</b>’s <b>Factory </b>label and <b>Hacienda</b> nightclub, but many of the bands and many more of the drugs ultimately proved bigger than either business. New Order survived Factory, but only just. To recoup some of their lost earnings, the band reconvened in 1990, “for what we thought would be one last time”, to record the official World Cup anthem – <i><b>World In Motion</b></i>. In a bittersweet twist, the song hit number one at the same time New Order were broke, disbanded and had little hope of a future. “It was encouraging having a number one single, yeah, but really we did that record as a commercial venture because we were in trouble financially.” Gillian confirms, “Steven (Morris) had the idea to do it, and just because we knew it would be used by all the TV stations broadcasting the World Cup, we all agreed. It was one of the few financially smart things we did as a band.” Its romantic to think the band keep New Order going for ‘love not money’, and although Hooky is the current bug in the band’s ointment, their instability had begun long ago as a result of bad business. It’s often downplayed for the sake of a good mud-slinging story, but Factory crashed during the making of New Order’s then come-back album, 1993’s <b><i>Republic</i></b> which ended the band’s tolerance for the industry for many years. Regarding the band's future plans however, Gillian can only offer her personal wishes.<br />
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“I would like to finish this tour, take a short break and then see what the future brings. We don’t have plans beyond these shows right now, but that can be an exciting prospect as well." She ads, "I don't think we will be recording a full album again, but I'd like to do an E.P. perhaps. We always had singles that weren't on albums in the past, so I think an E.P. would be a good compromise of those two things." As for the recent history in which ties between New Order's and Hook have seemingly been cut for good, Gillian concludes, "Many things way out of our control have slowed us down over the years, but… I think, in a way, the band is bigger than us as individuals, which makes it easier to carry on in the face of… whatever the universe can throw at us. I think with this group getting back together, we knew there would be battles (Hook) to get through, but <b>in New Order, that’s just how we play</b>."<br />
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<b><i>The 'Low Life' album and tour was unusual in that it was the one and only time the band's images were used in the promotional artwork.</i></b></div>
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lEIGh5http://www.blogger.com/profile/11389990516771799167noreply@blogger.com5