Kate Bush: Before the Dawn

When: Tuesday 23rd September

Where: Hammersmith Apollo

Why: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Oh it’s gonna be the way you always dreamed about it, but it’s gonna be really happening to you.”

Even as I was sitting in my terribly-far-back seat, next to my best friend with our faces painted in Babooshka style and our hair massively backcombed, downing rosé to simultaneously calm myself and hype myself up, I still couldn’t quite believe that I was about to see Kate Bush live. The whole audience seemed strangely tense, as was I – as tense as I had been months before, when I couldn’t sleep for fear I wouldn’t be able to bag tickets when they went on sale the next morning. And then – the incantation from Lily began – “Oh thou, who givest sustenance to the universe…” And on she stomped, leading her entourage like a barefooted, black-gowned pied piper of madness. The rest is honestly a blur. But the best blur of my life. 

The whole evening was madly theatrical: the name of the show (Before the Dawn) appeared above the entrance to the Apollo, not her own name. The first six songs formed a more traditionally gig-like section, like the most insane warm-up you could imagine – and although Hounds of Love is one of my all-time favourite songs, I was concentrating far too hard on absorbing every second of it to fully enjoy it, and it’s the soaring, staggering King of the Mountain that stays in my mind as just literally mind-blowing. 

The Ninth Wave, staged somewhere within a shipwreck and a whale’s ribcage, floating on the sea and under the ice, was ridiculous; assaulting the senses and making you feel like you’d been tossed over waves of adrenaline and shipwrecked somewhere in Hammersmith. Featuring scary fish people, a helicopter with searchlights zooming around the audience, poetic confetti cannons, a floating buoy and a skit with heavy emphasis on burnt sausages, it was enrapturing and immersive. Bush didn’t dance as such over the course of the evening, but the whole thing was still undeniably physical and she was all over the shop while staying note-perfect and sounding just like herself. Concluding with The Morning Fog was a joyous celebration of all on stage being together and restored, and this translated to the happily swaying audience who seemed frankly relieved to have survived.

After a stunned and giddy interval (us not her), A Sky of Honey was soothing and a balm to the senses (and thankfully the Rolf Harris part was beautifully replaced by Bush’s son Bertie), and featured gorgeous lighting effects and projections of birds that I wish I could have playing constantly in the background of my life. Just everywhere I go. The pace increases towards the end, becomes dramatic and almost brutal – a tree slams straight through the grand piano, causing whoops and gasps – and in true dramatic Kate fashion, she metamorphs into a black winged bird to bring the piece to a close. “All of the birds are laughing… Come on let’s all join in…”

Kate herself seemed on the toppest form – engaging and charming, betraying not a jot of her previous famous stage nerves. She was quirky and confident, understated but accessibly cool. You literally wanted to be up there with her, flapping about on the stage, throwing your shoes into the lake and running up that hill. She ended on the incredible Cloudbusting to my huge joy, and after the most deserving of standing ovations we continued shrieking long after we’d run out of the Apollo and into the night. 

Brixpig x

Ellie Goulding

When: Wednesday 16^th October

 

Where: (A newly renovated) Hammersmith Apollo

 

Why: We made a drunken decision to go

 

Short review: Ellie Goulding was ok. She’s clearly a nice person, she has some good tunes and an intriguing, skillful and sometimes impressive voice, but not much of a stage presence. The set list was a bizarre mixture of her old, more acoustic stuff, and new dance-inspired songs, and although they’re all good, the way they were mixed up was often jarring and didn’t quite work. I’ve been more inspired at a concert, that’s all I’ll say. But you know, good work Ellie for bringing us your voice and nice hair.

 

Brixpig x

Lana Del Rey

When: Monday 20^th May

Where: Hammersmith Apollo

Why: I thought I was a fan

Prepare yourselves readers, you’re about to experience Brixpig’s first scathing review. I know, I know, we never thought it could happen. But I’m here to tell you that none other than the USA’s golden angel Lana Del Rey has forced me into it.

Never before have I been bored at a gig. Just not paying attention, thoughts wandering, not having fun good old fashioned BORED. Usually if it's someone whose music I love, I'm just so thrilled to be there and experiencing them that it's always amazing. But something just didn't quite connect with Lana, which was sad, given that I did (and still do) really like her actual music. The set was cool, very 1920s (very Gatsby actually), with candelabra, palm trees and two magnificently handsome stone lions flanking the stage. But I was boiling, and surrounded by gangs of women in their thirties with enormous handbags and cups of offensive smelling Chardonnay whooping "I LOVE this one!!" Could not have been more of a contrast between this and the relaxed comfort and beauty of Noah and the Whale the night before.

Lana seems to be basically like one of those girls at school who is so pretty that she doesn't need even to flirt, but can just look mournfully at a boy and he'll swoon at her feet. This was like that, but with thousands of people at once. Which I suppose is actually quite impressive, but not a style I'm a massive fan of and I can’t agree that it makes for an atmospheric performance. What happens is you end up with a massive love-in between the crowd and her, which is simultaneously a bit sickening and also just really annoying. I've never heard so much raucous high-pitched screaming from a crowd, and I've seen Glee in concert. I never expected her to be the most energetic of performers, given the swoony and melancholic nature of her songs, but this was on another level of mournful. If she were any more languid she'd be an actual mermaid glaring at you from her lonely rock.

She hadn't even finished her first song before she was in the crowd greeting her fans like she was at a film premiere, accepting flowers and taking photos with all the time in the world. It must have been great if you were one of the fifty or so people at the front. For the rest of the three and a half thousand in the audience, not so much. The second time she did it, in the middle of the set, I went to the loo. The third time, at the end, I just left. I just don't think it's appropriate to be off the stage for so long during a gig. Sure, lots of acts go into the audience, but they usually keep singing and only do it once for a fairly short time. She also disappeared in the middle of the set while a short film came on, which was a fairly good music video style film but again, like, where are you? She wasn't costume changing or anything. It all just felt like a huge amount of  casual vanity.

I genuinely do love her music, her voice is sublime and she really is a beautiful creature. She sang the great ‘Young and Beautiful’ from the Gatsby soundtrack, a cover of ‘Knocking on heaven’s door’ and ‘Blue Velvet’ which always just reminds me of loo roll adverts. But the videos throughout the show of her floating around looking gorgeous were far more interesting than what was happening on the stage, and I could have stayed at home and seen all that on YouTube. She managed to connect with some of the crowd in her wearily sweet way, calling us her friends and claiming that she doesn't usually have much to say on stage. You're telling me. If one if my friends treated me like that, I'd think I'd mortally offended them...

In short – I wish I hadn’t bothered. She’s the one act I’ve seen that has made me think that for some artists, live concerts are a waste of time.

Brixpig x


In happier news, coming up:

BARBRA STREISAND on 1st June at the O2
Viva Forever! Yessss, just before it closes!
Mt Wolf at the Union Chapel
Vikki Stone at the Udderbelly and Frisky and Mannish at the Speigel Tent - Southbank
Glasvegas at XOYO
Macbeth (directed by Eve Best!) at the Globe
MS MR at the Electric Ballroom
Cricket at the Oval (hahaha)
Ellie Goulding at Hammersmith
BARRY GIBB at the O2 (unbelievably excited about this)

The Overtones

When: Monday 26^th November

Where: Hammersmith Apollo

Why: My mum wanted to go (and I secretly love them)

Oh, the Overtones. Five friendly chaps just bashing out some delightful ditties. The harmonies! The slick finger-clickin’ dance moves! The deep-voiced one! Unashamed cheese-mongers and mum-pleasers, you can’t fault them for playing right up to their audience of what was basically 3000 larky ladies seeking a good old dance in the aisles at the Hammersmith Apollo.

If you’re not familiar with the Overtones, imagine One Direction’s older brothers and you’re pretty much there. It’s something to do with the way that they just make you smile and you can’t help but enjoy them even though you feel a bit shifty about it. Simon Cowell would probably say they had star quality, but I think it’s basically about five quite nice-looking, high energy dudes, usually in a waistcoat, bopping about to some lovely melodies, which is all a lot of people want from a musical experience (still talking about both 1D and the Overtones here – focus now, focus). Anyway they’re a very nice, enjoyable group and their albums are brilliant to listen to at work, by way of jazzing you up a bit when you’re wrestling with a spreadsheet. Plus I’m a sucker for either a squeakily high-pitched voice (Darren Hayes, the BeeGees, the…high-pitched one from the Overtones) and a rumbly deep voice (Lachie from the Overtones…) so it’s a win-win for me.

Highlights of this particular evening included my mum somehow getting into a fight with the woman in front, who ended up moving and telling my mum to “fall down the stairs and die” (what a bitch), and an incongruous charity intervention which involved Gethin Jones from Daybreak collecting a trolley full of canned food in the middle of the second half (yes. There was an interval).

It was lovely. Lovely.

Brixpig x

Gotye

Not even the poster from this
gig, I just liked it

When: Monday 12^th November

Where: Hammersmith Apollo

Why: I don’t really know… it was just one of those things

The main thing you should know about this gig is that I went on my own and I didn’t drink. There was also some kind of drunken, aggressively-swaying Portuguese love-square going on next to me so I was anxiously tapping notes into my phone to stay out of it. So if this seems like a more detailed review than my usual, then that is why. 

Gotye was a revelation. He is COOL. I had no idea what to expect as I only knew his 2011 album (yes, the one with Somebody that I used to know on it), but he was awesome. It was like a proper jam session, with him very much as part of the band rather than a super frontman, and his drumming is phenomenal. Who actually knew? He was so dynamic, starting out quite spooky-peaceful, then billowing out into an 80s synthy retro psychedelic vibe. Good beats. I also love how he just slips into Phil Collins style poppy-ness every now and then (Learnalilgivinanlovin, In your Light etc). He also sang the obligatory Somebody that I used to know and got the audience to sing the Kimbra part, which was surprisingly effective (the entire Aussie population of London bellowing it back to him must have been quite a pleasing sensation).

Each song was accompanied by a self-contained short film, all of which were completely different but amazing. Hard to describe in detail because there were so many but if you youtube him you’ll see the breadth of stuff going on. A great example from the gig is State of the Art (a song which I hadn’t liked before but teamed with the video is just entirely new and cracking).

Also, because it’s such a sweet video, here’s the official version of Bronte which I love.

Nice one Gotes.

Brixpig x

Live at the Apollo

When: Tuesday 25^th September

Where: Hammersmith Apollo

Why: It was free

Thanks to a little heads-up from the British Comedy Guide on Twitter (@UKComedyNews), I followed a link to get audience tickets to Live at the Apollo and that was basically that. Print out the thing, show up at the place, queue for about 45 mins, just scrape in and score four seats in the second back row. They were filming two shows that evening and although we got a stern talking to at the start about not getting up and wandering around, I think this was pretty much limited just to the few important people down at the front, as upstairs we had a very cavalier attitude to getting up a strolling around the aisles. Very restless bunch.

SHOW ONE featured Lee Nelson as the host (cockneyish, annoying at first but you sort of get used to it), Stewart Francis (one liners can be so exhausting after a while, but some of them were mildly entertaining), and Paul Chowdhry (off of “What’s happening white people?” - very entertaining).

SHOW TWO featured Omid Djalili as the host (I love him but every time a joke failed he shouted “This is funny shit!” then scuffled about hoping they’d cut it out), Julian Clary (oh my actual god, came on in inexplicable stilts, weird joke about breaking up with Rolf Harris, insulted an Olympian, totally bombed and left the stage early. Is he having a nervous breakdown?), and Reginald D. Hunter (thank GOD, a really good, professional, funny one. Hilarious).

Ahh, the view from row Y

There were a few general themes to the evening which made us wonder if all the acts had been copying each other’s notes, including lots and lots of stuff on racism and how it’s actually really funny, and Omid Djalili doing exactly the same joke that Paul Chowdhry had done on doing the same accent back to people (it’s a disease, I do it all the time and my brother used to do it to our Irish priest although that might not have been by mistake).

I’ve just realised I completely forgot to even look out for our episodes on telly. Not sure I’m that bothered about seeing them again to be honest. Though it would be interesting to see how they manage to edit the Julian Clary fiasco…

Brixpig x