Venue: The Pitz, Milton Keynes
Reviewer: Phil
I once phoned the editor of our local Citizen and asked him for a job. He asked me what I wrote; ‘stories!’ I replied. He then gave me some harsh words about how the press deals only in reporting facts, not stories, that’s the sort of thing that apparently gives them a bad name! Then he hung up! Well, if that’s the case then I better just stick with the facts here! I’m hiding behind a thick curtain at the edge auditorium of the Pitz, I don’t care if I came here with a girl (Monkey Kettle Tea Girl Nikki) and so should probably be acting more manly, there are vicious looking space aliens on stage and they are spewing blood and bodily fluids all over the audience and I’m wearing my favourite t-shirt! Perhaps a few more facts are needed!
In the mid 80’s a group of space alien dudes crash land in Antarctica. They hang out, take in the sights, and then move to the US presumably because they discover chicken deep-fry’s better than penguin! They formed a band, probably to combat a strain of hair metal that was currently ravaging the nation. Replace Antarctica with Virginia Commonwealth University and ‘aliens’ with art students who just love dressing up for Halloween a little too much and you pretty much get the gist! And they’ve been battling it out ever since, going on to find notoriety, a guest spot on Empire Records and at least nominal success.
Back at the Pitz, shortly before Gwar are due to take the stage, Nikki and I nervously watch the sound desk being carefully covered with clear plastic. Then a girl dressed entirely in white and looking like she’d be more at home in Lloyds this particular Saturday, tells us in a worried voice that apparently the entire hall is to be drenched in fake blood and pus! Hordes of metal kids are pushing to the front row, eager to get drenched, while us older folk line the outside of the hall, hoping we might get away with this and still look respectable enough to head up to the bars in the city afterwards!
Onstage, Gwar work hard for their ticket money. Frontman Oderus Urungus, a.k.a. Dave Brokie, and his crew of assorted rock ‘n’ roll adventurers, play tight and fast for two hours, dressed in huge foam costumes. They look like oversized cartoon hero’s battling for space on the Pitz stage. Nikki and I were both impressed with Oderus’s shoulder pads; striking four foot tall spikes. Now that’s the kind of power dressing that would make an impact in the office! The band’s set has the drums poised high over the stage, surrounded by a vast wall of bones which probably houses their guitars! But the effect is something from a funfair of horrors. Frequently between songs, ‘slaves’ dressed as various icons of modern culture, including Hitler, Jesus and Osama Bin Laden, are marched onto the stage only to be decapitated, torn from limb to limb, their blood sprayed over the audience. All the while Oderus baits the crowd, says he longs for a return to the days of Margret Thatcher, and sprays the audience with suspicious looking liquid from his own giant prosthetic phallus. At one point George Bush is decapitated, his blood spewing on and off the stage. Oderus then climbs on his little stage pedestal and attempts to mount the hole left on George’s neck. Gosh, these are politically proactive chaps!
So then perhaps the biggest surprise of the evening is the quality of the music. Over the past 20 years these metal underdogs, banned from theaters and ridiculed by the mainstream, have actually sculpted a melodic and creative sound. Far from ‘God-What-an-Awful-Racket’, they actually sound more refreshing and modern than Trivium, more tuneful than Slayer and more heartfelt than Panic At The Disco. These guys believe in what they’re doing, they believe in their art, they believe in giving the audience the best stage show in town every night, and they believe in writing and playing the best music they can. Against a backbone of chunky mosh-pit raging riffs they layer bass breaks, guitar solos that carry the song without sounding cheesy, socially and politically proactive lyrics and soaring choruses Slipknot would be proud of. The band don’t sound 20 years old, and the members, despite still not managing to become millionaires when far more mediocre acts have found success in their place, are still giving it 100% every night. Tonight, this really is the best show in town!
Standing outside the venue afterwards, I feel like I’m standing outside A&E shortly after an unfortunate incident with a litter of hungry pumas! Kids pile out of the auditorium, thick in fake blood and green bile. We escaped without a scratch, those blood spewing cannons evidently calibrated to reach only to within about ten foot of the walls of the auditorium. And I read in an interview afterward, Gwar only like to use food dyes that wash out easily and have no wish to ruin cloths or auditoriums. Its only a show, this is just for fun, and they’re ok these Gwar dudes!
Saturday, 17 March 2007
Thursday, 4 March 2004
THE PITZ: VOLUME 3 - CD Review (2004)
Reviewer: MMT
See, I don't really have a problem with Death Metal*. I don't. We used to sneak on Obituary albums when we were supposed to be listening to German tapes on headphones at school. I have mass-moshed in a circular fashion to Lawnmower Deth at the Pitz itself. I have a Cradle Of Filth album. So when "The Pitz : Volume 3" kicks off with "Forever Lost" by Cerberus, I'm not at all put out. It could be a major label Death Metal* group, if such a thing existed. The guitars are apocalyptic, there is some virtuoso soloing, doom-laded vocals. And I'm happy. I set up my new Massage Pad in my music chair and feel the vibrations course through my lumber region.
It will become apparent that I am not particularly "up" on the MK music scene. Partially this is due to money - I never have any. I'm a poet ferchrissake. Partially due to my twenties slowly winding down. But hey - I'm still cool. Our band played at Bar Central recently. I have seen Odd Man Out at least twice before, too. On both occasions I quite liked them - they plough an angular, intelligent, muscular rock furrow. I think I have previously mentioned Six By Seven in connection with 'em. "Dead Inside" doesn't rilly grab me, though. Still, they're doing well nationally, so good on 'em.
Phema do a similar thing, jagged guitars and tremulant (!) vocals then giving way to a dark instrumental bit in the middle. And again, it's not bad. I would watch 'em at a local bands night or somethink. That's the important thing - celebrating local talent. And that's what The Pitz has always been good at. I challenge you to name another place in MK which has managed it so well for so consistently long. That's the important thing.
Note also how I neatly sidestep real incisive journalism here. Who needs it when you've got a Massage Pad? Luckily, though, I am finally grabbed properly on Track 4, "In The Market Place" by The Dead Girls. This is scuzzy and poppy, two facets appearing on this compilation for the first time, and welcome. Ten thumbs up.
Dive's "Place In The Sun" is an excitable "Bleach"-era-Nirvana clatter. And now I am nodding. The spirit of Rock still burns somewhere inside me, under the vodka-blurred beast I have become. Kurt would be proud. I hope.
"Dark Matter" by Mikaw Barish is the best thing on the compilation so far, perhaps the best thing on it all, I realise after several listens. I'm a sucker for lyrics anyway, and these are notably good in comparison. The singer has a really emotional edge in his voice, and trying to come up with a genre for it (the Last Recourse of the Poor Music Journalist) I coin the phrase "Darkrock". Seek out and enjoy.
Of course, being mostly ignorant about the MK music scene, I'm blind to some of the subtle differences between some of the bands. I dunno who came first, who stole who's bass player, etc. But I got a free copy of the CD, the least I can do is review it. And it does rock.
Fell Silent open up the drawer marked "Death Metal"* again, but at least have the good grace to freshen things up a bit with a really catchy chorus with harmonies and everything. Then everything gets even better with a slow mid-section which includes a cool talky bit. I am genuinely enjoying this. "Betray". Sweet.
The half-way point of the compilation lowers the volume a little again, Lupa's "Less Than, Lately" is circling, airy rock. It sounds urgent, earnest, punchy. It's good. It's also the best song title on the CD, incidentally. I find these things important.
I have seen Dark Hadou live a couple of times as well, at last year's Band Blitz. They are better live, the recording is a little muddy on "Welfare & Friends", not quite as atmospheric. Still, the quality of recording has come on in leaps and bounds since the early nineties when I used to buy local band tapes. All the tracks on here are noticeably well recorded. What times we live in!
"Something Like Winter" by Modulator starts off all Gothy, which is promising. Not much else happens for a while, but then there's yet another good midsection which speeds up, brings in distortion, riffs around and even becomes a bit dancy. Where have all these middle sections come from? Nice.
Fidjit are a lot more polished musically than many of the other bands on here, "2X2" is quite straightforward Funk Rock, which veers almost into Mansun territory at times, but definitely makes me feel groovy. Neck movements. And not just because of my Massage Pad. Skips into a rappy bit near the end.
There's a noise like a train at the start of "13th Saint" by Nomme Louis. I wonder how they did that? The rest is typically burly Death Metal* fare, complete with vomiting vocals. It's all starting to get a bit much. At least this is short.
And by a minute into "Exhumed Justice" by Seethe, I am starting to yearn for some airy keyboards, or some t.A.T.u.. As I have already whined, I do like Death Metal*, I do, but this bit of the CD is starting to feel a bit like eating a very dry cake. With lots of rusty nuts, bolts, washers etc. in it.
I guess that's my only criticism of the CD, and even that's not a very big one. It skews too far towards sweaty men playing Harsh Metal, but that's only a reflection of what The Kids want to see at The Pitz, I guess. I would like to have heard a few more different voices, a few more shades of grey or even colour amongst the grimy black, and where are the girls? Whence are the 75% Lips of 2004? Aah, maybe I am getting old. Still, my lower back feels very refreshed.
Hold up though - here are Graveltrap, and suddenly it's a cheerful ska-punk knees up! That's better! Smiling faces and sweaty hugs all round! The central riff is almost folky, but still works. This is the sound of a confident band at ease with themselves and their surroundings. Excellent.
Tarpot would seem to be engaging in that time-honoured practice of doing almost Comedy Death Metal*! Starting with what sounds like a Muppet singing the lyrics before the music kicks in, "Berzerker" spins close to a Satanic version of the Reeves Club Style. Still, I like it! The best bit is the sample at the very end.
The CD closes with a feature I like, a classic track from a Pitz Band of yesteryear, a nice concession to those of us who fought in the Metal Wars of the Nineties. This CD highlights Rat Salad, "Get Out" sounds a little tame after just having experienced Seethe and Tarpot, but draws a line through history from then to now.
So it's worth buying, espeshly if you're a denizen of the Pitz, and you like your guitars grindy, your bass apocalyptic and your vocals gutteral. And even if you don't, there's enough here even to entertain the most jaded of late twentysomething music fans. And here's to the Pitz for compiling it. Long may they continue.
* If it's even still called Death Metal. Sucks to you if it's not. I know what I mean, daddio.
See, I don't really have a problem with Death Metal*. I don't. We used to sneak on Obituary albums when we were supposed to be listening to German tapes on headphones at school. I have mass-moshed in a circular fashion to Lawnmower Deth at the Pitz itself. I have a Cradle Of Filth album. So when "The Pitz : Volume 3" kicks off with "Forever Lost" by Cerberus, I'm not at all put out. It could be a major label Death Metal* group, if such a thing existed. The guitars are apocalyptic, there is some virtuoso soloing, doom-laded vocals. And I'm happy. I set up my new Massage Pad in my music chair and feel the vibrations course through my lumber region.
It will become apparent that I am not particularly "up" on the MK music scene. Partially this is due to money - I never have any. I'm a poet ferchrissake. Partially due to my twenties slowly winding down. But hey - I'm still cool. Our band played at Bar Central recently. I have seen Odd Man Out at least twice before, too. On both occasions I quite liked them - they plough an angular, intelligent, muscular rock furrow. I think I have previously mentioned Six By Seven in connection with 'em. "Dead Inside" doesn't rilly grab me, though. Still, they're doing well nationally, so good on 'em.
Phema do a similar thing, jagged guitars and tremulant (!) vocals then giving way to a dark instrumental bit in the middle. And again, it's not bad. I would watch 'em at a local bands night or somethink. That's the important thing - celebrating local talent. And that's what The Pitz has always been good at. I challenge you to name another place in MK which has managed it so well for so consistently long. That's the important thing.
Note also how I neatly sidestep real incisive journalism here. Who needs it when you've got a Massage Pad? Luckily, though, I am finally grabbed properly on Track 4, "In The Market Place" by The Dead Girls. This is scuzzy and poppy, two facets appearing on this compilation for the first time, and welcome. Ten thumbs up.
Dive's "Place In The Sun" is an excitable "Bleach"-era-Nirvana clatter. And now I am nodding. The spirit of Rock still burns somewhere inside me, under the vodka-blurred beast I have become. Kurt would be proud. I hope.
"Dark Matter" by Mikaw Barish is the best thing on the compilation so far, perhaps the best thing on it all, I realise after several listens. I'm a sucker for lyrics anyway, and these are notably good in comparison. The singer has a really emotional edge in his voice, and trying to come up with a genre for it (the Last Recourse of the Poor Music Journalist) I coin the phrase "Darkrock". Seek out and enjoy.
Of course, being mostly ignorant about the MK music scene, I'm blind to some of the subtle differences between some of the bands. I dunno who came first, who stole who's bass player, etc. But I got a free copy of the CD, the least I can do is review it. And it does rock.
Fell Silent open up the drawer marked "Death Metal"* again, but at least have the good grace to freshen things up a bit with a really catchy chorus with harmonies and everything. Then everything gets even better with a slow mid-section which includes a cool talky bit. I am genuinely enjoying this. "Betray". Sweet.
The half-way point of the compilation lowers the volume a little again, Lupa's "Less Than, Lately" is circling, airy rock. It sounds urgent, earnest, punchy. It's good. It's also the best song title on the CD, incidentally. I find these things important.
I have seen Dark Hadou live a couple of times as well, at last year's Band Blitz. They are better live, the recording is a little muddy on "Welfare & Friends", not quite as atmospheric. Still, the quality of recording has come on in leaps and bounds since the early nineties when I used to buy local band tapes. All the tracks on here are noticeably well recorded. What times we live in!
"Something Like Winter" by Modulator starts off all Gothy, which is promising. Not much else happens for a while, but then there's yet another good midsection which speeds up, brings in distortion, riffs around and even becomes a bit dancy. Where have all these middle sections come from? Nice.
Fidjit are a lot more polished musically than many of the other bands on here, "2X2" is quite straightforward Funk Rock, which veers almost into Mansun territory at times, but definitely makes me feel groovy. Neck movements. And not just because of my Massage Pad. Skips into a rappy bit near the end.
There's a noise like a train at the start of "13th Saint" by Nomme Louis. I wonder how they did that? The rest is typically burly Death Metal* fare, complete with vomiting vocals. It's all starting to get a bit much. At least this is short.
And by a minute into "Exhumed Justice" by Seethe, I am starting to yearn for some airy keyboards, or some t.A.T.u.. As I have already whined, I do like Death Metal*, I do, but this bit of the CD is starting to feel a bit like eating a very dry cake. With lots of rusty nuts, bolts, washers etc. in it.
I guess that's my only criticism of the CD, and even that's not a very big one. It skews too far towards sweaty men playing Harsh Metal, but that's only a reflection of what The Kids want to see at The Pitz, I guess. I would like to have heard a few more different voices, a few more shades of grey or even colour amongst the grimy black, and where are the girls? Whence are the 75% Lips of 2004? Aah, maybe I am getting old. Still, my lower back feels very refreshed.
Hold up though - here are Graveltrap, and suddenly it's a cheerful ska-punk knees up! That's better! Smiling faces and sweaty hugs all round! The central riff is almost folky, but still works. This is the sound of a confident band at ease with themselves and their surroundings. Excellent.
Tarpot would seem to be engaging in that time-honoured practice of doing almost Comedy Death Metal*! Starting with what sounds like a Muppet singing the lyrics before the music kicks in, "Berzerker" spins close to a Satanic version of the Reeves Club Style. Still, I like it! The best bit is the sample at the very end.
The CD closes with a feature I like, a classic track from a Pitz Band of yesteryear, a nice concession to those of us who fought in the Metal Wars of the Nineties. This CD highlights Rat Salad, "Get Out" sounds a little tame after just having experienced Seethe and Tarpot, but draws a line through history from then to now.
So it's worth buying, espeshly if you're a denizen of the Pitz, and you like your guitars grindy, your bass apocalyptic and your vocals gutteral. And even if you don't, there's enough here even to entertain the most jaded of late twentysomething music fans. And here's to the Pitz for compiling it. Long may they continue.
* If it's even still called Death Metal. Sucks to you if it's not. I know what I mean, daddio.
Monday, 21 April 2003
PAUL McCARTNEY
Venue: Earl's Court, London - "Back To The World Tour"
Reviewer: MMT
Three hours, give or take, and he still didn't play "The Frog Chorus". Anyway, I'll get to that.
As Bis advise, though, I will open with a Statement of Intent. I love the Beatles, love 'em. My dad loves 'em too, and my childhood was filled with tapes in cars, guitars in houses, tunes from somewhere else. The White Album is one of the best works of art of any genre ever. The drumming on "Strawberry Fields Forever" is one of the best examples of drumming on record ever. The Beatles, The Beatles, The Beatles. Cor, they're good. Okay, they had their arse moments too - "All Together Now", on Yellow Submarine is appallingly bad, but the man behind it, Sir Paul McCartney, was in fine form this week at Earl's Court.
He does get a pretty bad press, probably mostly just because he's still alive. If John hadn't been struck down by Mark Chapman in 1980, he would have released some godawful rubbish in the intervening decades. But you can't argue with much of the back catalogue on display from Macca here. He's always been legendarily reluctant to delve too far back into the Beatles era in the past, but obviously is feeling pretty mellow at the moment - this was definitely a sixties-heavy set, all three hours of it !
I've never actually been to Earl's Court before, and the sheer size of it made me dizzy as Helen and I emerged from the warehouse-style exterior to the stadium interior. Meeting various other members of my family there, we realised that in fact the proceedings had just about started - outlandishly dressed figures paraded their way through the audience to the stage as a twenty minute piece of theatrical mime to a building ambient track succeeding in making tens of thousands of people think "I wonder when Sir Paul will be coming on"...
Once he did, though, I was impressed. I've not been to many of these enormo-gigs before, just Bob Dylan and Steps (together at last!) at the Birmaham NEC, but this was the first one where I've seen the massive video projection screens used to their full potential. They went up and down on big chains, they sashayed into postions and provided both live footage from the tiny figures of Paul and his musos for hire, and also videos and mood pictures. Which all actually helped keep the attention, to be fair, no mean feat in such a massive arena.
Obviously it wasn't all rock history in the flesh, there were a few duff numbers, notably a sappy song about John written post-80 (although I'd forgive him even that), and a couple of current numbers included, one feels, to say "Hey ! I'm still releasing records, me!", but other than that he clearly seemed to be enjoying the celebration of his life's work, hammering into tracks like "Can't Buy Me Love", "Back In The USSR", "Birthday", and "I Saw Her Standing There" as if he had something to prove. He has to live among some pretty big shadows, after all.
The accusation levelled at him most often is that he was the sappy balladeer to John's caustic politicist, but that's lazy. True, his big guns were nearly all wheeled out : "Yesterday", "The Long And Winding Road", "Let It Be", a rousing singalong of "Hey Jude", but even these seemed to have an added poignancy live - these are not the versions we've heard over and over on record, these were fuller with life, rawer. Even this cynical old heart was moved by "Let It Be", one of the highlights of the evening. And don't forget, Lennon wrote the now somehow cringeingly naive "All You Need Is Love", and try having a listen to "Dear Yoko" off of Double Fantasy sometime ! Shooooo...
My main gripe, to be honest, was the buffoonish posturing of his apparently Nu-Metal drummer, a man-mountain with spiky goatee, who, although clearly an excellent drummer, didn't miss any opportunities to come out from behind his kit in the quieter numbers and sway like the singer out of Creed before delivering the admittedly spot on falsetto harmonies. So that's not much of a gripe, but still - I could have done without it during the only time I will ever see "She's Leaving Home" (SHE'S LEAVING HOME !!!!) sung live. Paul was very sure to introduce all of his band, not least so he could move from guitar to grand piano and back again a couple of times, or even to a kind of keyboard / piano box which was painted in a kind of Yellow Submarine-style style.
And of course, the man wasn't just in one multi-million selling band like yer Lennons and yer Harrisons (unless the Traveling Wilburys count), he was in two. Wings were very much in evidence on the night, from "Jet" to "Band On The Run" to "some soppy one about Linda I don't know the name of". There was also one I'd never heard before, but which a short bit of research revealed to be a Wings single (a Wingle ?) from 1976 called "Let 'Em In". Which was pretty good. And of course an explosive (literally - pyrotechnics a-go-go on this one song only !) version of surely the weirdest James Bond theme ever, "Live And Let Die".
But despite the Wings-hand-symbols (think Wac-A-Wave, youse Eighties kids) and scarves in the front rows, it was Beatle Paul people had come to see. And in that sense, at least, it was an excellent occasion. How often do you see A Living Legend in the flesh, let alone A Living Legend Who Wrote "Eleanor Rigby" singing it live? And it didn't stop there, either - for three hours ! Here's a plaintive "The Fool On The Hill", there's a foot-tapping "Lady Madonna". You fancy an acoustic plucking through of "Blackbird"? You betcha. Ukelele-played version of "Something" in memory of George? Absolutely. Astonishing.
Few people, certainly few people currently alive, could pull this off. And certainly few would come on for the encore wearing a "No More Land Mines" t-shirt. In a career spanning forty years (the oldest song here, "I Saw Her Standing There" is older than that !), you've got to expect a few blips. Even Bowie has his "Laughing Gnome", his Tin Machine. So I'm not defending "Ebony and Ivory" (also not played live! Boooo!), all I'm saying is that this isn't the sort of concert you get to go and see very often. And I'm glad I can say I was there - and that unlike the kids in the Sixties, at least I could hear the words...
Eight thumbs up. Keep on a-rockin' Sir Paul. You rule hands down over Sir Elton, Sir Cliff and Sir Not Sir Mick, which is all I ask from any rocker over 50.
Reviewer: MMT
Three hours, give or take, and he still didn't play "The Frog Chorus". Anyway, I'll get to that.
As Bis advise, though, I will open with a Statement of Intent. I love the Beatles, love 'em. My dad loves 'em too, and my childhood was filled with tapes in cars, guitars in houses, tunes from somewhere else. The White Album is one of the best works of art of any genre ever. The drumming on "Strawberry Fields Forever" is one of the best examples of drumming on record ever. The Beatles, The Beatles, The Beatles. Cor, they're good. Okay, they had their arse moments too - "All Together Now", on Yellow Submarine is appallingly bad, but the man behind it, Sir Paul McCartney, was in fine form this week at Earl's Court.
He does get a pretty bad press, probably mostly just because he's still alive. If John hadn't been struck down by Mark Chapman in 1980, he would have released some godawful rubbish in the intervening decades. But you can't argue with much of the back catalogue on display from Macca here. He's always been legendarily reluctant to delve too far back into the Beatles era in the past, but obviously is feeling pretty mellow at the moment - this was definitely a sixties-heavy set, all three hours of it !
I've never actually been to Earl's Court before, and the sheer size of it made me dizzy as Helen and I emerged from the warehouse-style exterior to the stadium interior. Meeting various other members of my family there, we realised that in fact the proceedings had just about started - outlandishly dressed figures paraded their way through the audience to the stage as a twenty minute piece of theatrical mime to a building ambient track succeeding in making tens of thousands of people think "I wonder when Sir Paul will be coming on"...
Once he did, though, I was impressed. I've not been to many of these enormo-gigs before, just Bob Dylan and Steps (together at last!) at the Birmaham NEC, but this was the first one where I've seen the massive video projection screens used to their full potential. They went up and down on big chains, they sashayed into postions and provided both live footage from the tiny figures of Paul and his musos for hire, and also videos and mood pictures. Which all actually helped keep the attention, to be fair, no mean feat in such a massive arena.
Obviously it wasn't all rock history in the flesh, there were a few duff numbers, notably a sappy song about John written post-80 (although I'd forgive him even that), and a couple of current numbers included, one feels, to say "Hey ! I'm still releasing records, me!", but other than that he clearly seemed to be enjoying the celebration of his life's work, hammering into tracks like "Can't Buy Me Love", "Back In The USSR", "Birthday", and "I Saw Her Standing There" as if he had something to prove. He has to live among some pretty big shadows, after all.
The accusation levelled at him most often is that he was the sappy balladeer to John's caustic politicist, but that's lazy. True, his big guns were nearly all wheeled out : "Yesterday", "The Long And Winding Road", "Let It Be", a rousing singalong of "Hey Jude", but even these seemed to have an added poignancy live - these are not the versions we've heard over and over on record, these were fuller with life, rawer. Even this cynical old heart was moved by "Let It Be", one of the highlights of the evening. And don't forget, Lennon wrote the now somehow cringeingly naive "All You Need Is Love", and try having a listen to "Dear Yoko" off of Double Fantasy sometime ! Shooooo...
My main gripe, to be honest, was the buffoonish posturing of his apparently Nu-Metal drummer, a man-mountain with spiky goatee, who, although clearly an excellent drummer, didn't miss any opportunities to come out from behind his kit in the quieter numbers and sway like the singer out of Creed before delivering the admittedly spot on falsetto harmonies. So that's not much of a gripe, but still - I could have done without it during the only time I will ever see "She's Leaving Home" (SHE'S LEAVING HOME !!!!) sung live. Paul was very sure to introduce all of his band, not least so he could move from guitar to grand piano and back again a couple of times, or even to a kind of keyboard / piano box which was painted in a kind of Yellow Submarine-style style.
And of course, the man wasn't just in one multi-million selling band like yer Lennons and yer Harrisons (unless the Traveling Wilburys count), he was in two. Wings were very much in evidence on the night, from "Jet" to "Band On The Run" to "some soppy one about Linda I don't know the name of". There was also one I'd never heard before, but which a short bit of research revealed to be a Wings single (a Wingle ?) from 1976 called "Let 'Em In". Which was pretty good. And of course an explosive (literally - pyrotechnics a-go-go on this one song only !) version of surely the weirdest James Bond theme ever, "Live And Let Die".
But despite the Wings-hand-symbols (think Wac-A-Wave, youse Eighties kids) and scarves in the front rows, it was Beatle Paul people had come to see. And in that sense, at least, it was an excellent occasion. How often do you see A Living Legend in the flesh, let alone A Living Legend Who Wrote "Eleanor Rigby" singing it live? And it didn't stop there, either - for three hours ! Here's a plaintive "The Fool On The Hill", there's a foot-tapping "Lady Madonna". You fancy an acoustic plucking through of "Blackbird"? You betcha. Ukelele-played version of "Something" in memory of George? Absolutely. Astonishing.
Few people, certainly few people currently alive, could pull this off. And certainly few would come on for the encore wearing a "No More Land Mines" t-shirt. In a career spanning forty years (the oldest song here, "I Saw Her Standing There" is older than that !), you've got to expect a few blips. Even Bowie has his "Laughing Gnome", his Tin Machine. So I'm not defending "Ebony and Ivory" (also not played live! Boooo!), all I'm saying is that this isn't the sort of concert you get to go and see very often. And I'm glad I can say I was there - and that unlike the kids in the Sixties, at least I could hear the words...
Eight thumbs up. Keep on a-rockin' Sir Paul. You rule hands down over Sir Elton, Sir Cliff and Sir Not Sir Mick, which is all I ask from any rocker over 50.
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