Tag Archive for 'gigs'

Though if you ask nicely I’ll consider it

Published
by
Colm
on 10 June, 2010
in Music
. 2 Comments

The other day I went to see Rage Against the Machine1 and oh golly my me hurts. The old head-bangin’ muscles are holding up well, but at this point my calves have turned entirely solid. I could break rocks with these things.

All of which is to say: what a gig. I saw em a couple of years ago at Oxegen and they were so-so, which I now reckon was more down to the crowd than anything else (plus and also, I was pretty sober… textbook error). The crowd in the Point2  ranged from hugely enthusiastic to not-quite-as-enthusiastic-but-willing-to-stand-aside, which is a-ok in my book. Age-wise, about half the people there were thirty-year-olds pretending they were 16 (as my brother put it). The rest were wans and young f’llas who assumably listen to Rage on account of they’re a cool band from back in the day, much as my generation listen to Iron Maiden. I’m somewhere in the middle, but it pleases me that I’m on course to becoming a middle-aged rocker.

One thing, however… whenever a mosh pit formed near us, not only did the bouncers not stop it, they actively helped people who lost their footing. I’ll reiterate: the bouncers contributed to the crowd having a good time. Is this a thing that happens now? Concert security have always been, and are supposed to be, the worst people in the world. If you pull that out from under kids’ feet, what the hell are they supposed to believe in? The goodness of humankind? No fucking thank you. These people’d want to sort themselves out reet smart before we all start getting notions.

  1. Or, as I said in an IM conversation, “Tonight I’m going to Rage Against the Machine”. The ambiguity of that makes me want to start a band called Bang a Donkey. [↩]
  2. IT IS CALLED THE POINT [↩]

Muse have never let me down

Published
by
Colm
on 15 August, 2008
in Music
. 1 Comment

They’re three for three at this stage.

An interesting day overall. I made the crucial error of getting on a bus right after downing two pints, and by the time we hit the venue I was in physical pain to the point of only being able to shuffle along in a hunching limp. And bless my soul if I didn’t accidentally sass a Garda shortly afterwards. She was on a bike though and apparently didn’t feel like stopping to dispense Mighty Justice.

There was a delightful Freudian slip from an MCD announcer before Muse came onstage: “In the unlikely event of a concern for public safety…”

It was a great show. An awful lot of jumping around, but paced nicely enough so that you never quite collapsed. And I love how where other bands might say “This is a new song we’re working on,” Muse tend to go for “Yeah, so this is a badass riff we wrote, we’re gonna play that for the next minute or so. Also, I’m going to make lasers come out of my guitar.”

I’m still not remotely recovered. I’m going to trail off now if that’s all right with you.

A festival in miniature

Published
by
Colm
on 15 July, 2008
in Music
. 5 Comments

Following much humming, hawing and lurking around toutless.com, myself and the lady headed to Oxegen on Sunday. It’s the first time I’ve been at a festival and not camped, and it was pleasingly hassle-free. For one thing, not carrying a weekend’s worth of luggage meant I was able to get further than three feet from the bus without wanting to kill myself.

Of course, the flip side of that particular coin was that I went in boozeless and had to rely on the on-site bars. I was expecting to be fleeced, but a fiver got you a half-litre of decent enough beer in a big shturdy cup. Eh? Drinking at a festival is cheaper than drinking in a Dublin pub?

(Yeah, I know you can easily get a pint for under a fiver. Last time I was out, though, I ordered two pints of Paulaner and was charged €12.60 for my trouble, so it still averages out to everyone being a bunch of manky grabarses.)

I don’t know if MCD pulled the thumb out or what but the organisation seemed top notch. Queueing throughout the day, including the bus home, was at a minimum and the layout didn’t cause any of the usual headaches. There was of course talk of alleged rapes, alleged beatings and general alleged thievery but shur and it wouldn’t allegedly be Oxegen otherwise.

Bands: We Are Scientists were entertaining as always (creeping towards number one on the would-have-a-pint-with list… Guy Garvey will take some shifting though). Random techno was random techno. MGMT were probably ok, I survived the cattle pen for all of 30 seconds before I decided a pint was more in order. The Raconteurs put on a good show although I did kind of fall asleep for part of their set (rock n’ roll). Everything else was a general haze until Rage came on – cracking stuff, and the main reason I was there. A great set list and the encore was only mighty.

Overall, very glad I went. I kind of wish we’d stuck with our original plan and camped, but what can you do. Roll on Electric Picnic.

[More elsewhere: B'dum B'dum is a year late but still jolly entertaining, UnaRocks is as always on the case, and Jazz Biscuit has aggregated the shit out of the bad boy. Rosie may or may not recover enough to write it up at some point too... the scamp.]

Elbow

Published
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Colm
on 22 April, 2008
in Music
. 6 Comments

I saw the marvellous and wonderful Elbow in Vicar Street last night. They were marvellous, and wonderful. Guy Garvey is so charismatic that it’s pretty much impossible not to have a good time at one of their shows. Another reason to buy an Electic Picnic ticket, yes?

Strictly speaking no, since I just looked at the lineup and they’re not on it. I’m not sure why I thought they were… but what the hell, Grinderman, a flaming jazz bar* and the best pies in the world will be there, so buy a ticket anyway.

*May be a composite of several blurry memories.

Fashion mishaps

Published
by
Colm
on 18 April, 2008
in Music
. 3 Comments

I am seven kinds of wrecked today, so this kind of goes nowhere. It’s my Cormac McCarthy post.

The sweaty ginger apocalypse that is A Futurist Theatre played Doran’s last night and as per usual they raised rooves, wrecked gaffs and mixed metaphors at a rate of knots per hour. Since I’m friends with the band I’d like to be able to say that they’re rubbish, thus proving the Stalinesque ruthlessness of my critical intellect, but they trip me up by being consistently awesome. It’s starting to give me a complex.

Following a night swanning around my flat with a pack of cigarettes shoved up my sleeve, I had planned to blow everyone’s mind and James Dean the motherfucker. Unfortunately, my level of drunken bombast had blinded me to the worrying level of translucency of my one and only white tshirt. James Dean not being famous for subtly flashing his nipples at strangers, a post-work jaunt to River Island was necessitated.

By the ancient and unwrit rules of men’s fashion there was only propely decent shirt there, and that only available in extra small. Now, I’m prepared to call myself a svelte guy – I’m aware of the concept of muscles, but they’re not something I’ve ever got the hang of – so I reckoned I could pull it off. And it worked out all right, although things like eating, drinking, walking, dancing, breathing, thinking and so on were a little trickier than usual.

Plus, on an unrelated note, I accidentally kneed a guy in the mouth. Good times all round.