I have a very good and very dear friend who's quite an inspiration to me. Her name's Jo. She's a bit younger than me. I worked with her for a year in Katowice, Poland, twenty years ago, and she now has a house in Bury near Manchester, and she makes it sound like the most exciting place imaginable, which is almost certainly not how I'd think about it if I didn't know her.
The Telegraph. Where the lovely Amy works.
Jo is one of the most full on pleasure and thrill seekers that I've ever met, and I'm in full admiration of that, there's not a smidgeon of criticism in that comment. I think it's a very good thing to be. Someone who knows me very well, once described me as a hedonist and I was very grateful, because it told me something about myself that I hadn't realised before. I always thought that I was just in big trouble.
Jo is surely a hedonist too. She has two main pursuits apart from holding down a number of pretty demanding jobs. Firstly her house is a menagerie of rabbits, rodents, felines and birds of various types. Picture a scene not unlike Doctor Doolittle with Jo as a modern and far more interesting version of Rex Harrison shrieking, (Jo has always shrieked a lot), and probably treading on pets in some new, entirely self-generated drama.
Jo's other passion is gig going. Every other night it seems, her social media page has news of her latest gig going adventure. Along with her set of female mates who she meets up with for these. She posts lovely pictures of them all, grinning uncontrollably from ear to ear, before, during and after the latest Shed Seven gig, or whoever they've used as the latest excuse to meet up and make merry.
I'm conducting a similar experiment in living this year. I'm going to as many gigs as I can, in an 'enjoy yourself, it's later than you think' spirit that I don't doubt the late great Terry would be in whole hearted approval of. After the closed down, locked down years we've all endured, and in my case I confess rather enjoyed, because I needed a break from what I was going through, in terms of work in particular. But now the doors seem finally as if they're open for business once more, and in the words of Saint Lou, 'We're coming out', though I realise that he was talking about something slightly braver and riskier than just going to a gig of an evening.
So yesterday I went to see The Golden Dregs and as it turned out Tapir! at Cluny 2 in Ouseburn, Newcastle. I had a great pre-gig pre-amble. I went to see my darling Amy. The barmaid with the finest beehive in the Newcastle at The Telegraph where she works . Put some songs on the jukebox. Read my Mojo.
Then, a truly wonderful meal at The French Quarter, a restaurant I've walked past a hundred times and frequently admired its menu without venturing in. An error I'll make amends for.. Next, a walk down the Quayside on a wonderful, bright afternoon, up the stone staircase to The Free Trade. Billy, my artistic mate is there as I'd hoped.
Billy is well into his early evening session. Drinking sensibly and highly responsibly I hasten to add. We talk about the art he produces and posts on social media. It's getting better and he knows it. He's with his mate Paul, who seems a thoroughly good bloke too. Then it's time to go, I suspect the support will be on, so I bid them farewell and take the short walk from the Free Trade to The Cluny.
The support are on. I wonder whether to see them or nip up to The Cumberland Arms for a quick drink. I choose the former option and it turns out to be one of those opportune decisions that allows you to come upon a small musical wonder you hadn't expected.
Because the support band Tapir! in their small unassuming way are quietly magnificent. A six piece, of very nice looking people, set out neatly across the stage. They're wonderfully young, but the best kind of youth, the type with obvious wisdom beyond their years. Their singer mid-stage with longish hair and a cap, blessed with a quite exquisite voice that hits quite astonishing high notes with great ease.
The rest of the band offers support to a beautiful set of songs that have space and rapture and reminded me a bit of Grizzly Bear and Beirut which, let's face it, are not bad things to be compared to. The band features a quite beautiful, young female trumpeter who my heart went out to until I remembered my advanced years. She also contributes backing vocals to some songs. Tapir! are altogether a special gift and I made sure to tell a couple of them afterwards and they seemed grateful for my praise. Watch them. They seem capable to me of something really special. But please remember, you read it here first!
Then a short break, an opportunity for me to have a look at the merch stand. The Golden Dregs gradually assemble, make technical adjustments to their gear and are off.
I've listened to the band's latest record On Grace & Dignity a number of times this year and it's clearly something special. I'll be going back to it a lot more after tonight. I'm delighted to discover immediately that they're a band in the real sense, a six piece. But their main and overriding objective is to support and shine a spotlight on leader Benjamin Woods.
Comparisons are spurious, but also sometimes necessary. For Golden Dregs think, a slightly cheerier Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. Or Tindersticks. Or Lloyd Cole with or without his Commotions. Woods has a rather uncanny physical resemblance to a young Lloyd strangely. He's also keen to make an impression tonight. In the second song he steps off the cup of the stage and patrols the area around the first few rows of the audience like a restless panther. The audience are a little more reticent than Newcastle audiences generally are I notice. Usually they're half cut frankly, but tonight they're not and they watch with a quiet but appreciative respect. Deserved because the band put on a proper show.
That's all you can ask for. That a band give you a show and something to think about and talk about afterwards. That's certainly the case here. The Golden Dregs are in a uniform of sorts. All in white though this is composed of white clothing of various items rather than all wearing exactly the same thin . They don't go as far as the whole Alex and his droogs Clockwork Orange look. That would be slightly sinister.
They look good though. They have a male keyboardist with a closely shaved head and a rather fetching white ball dress. Very 2023. He also contributes arresting and beautiful backing vocals as the set progresses. Three more of the backing players chip in with backing vocals of their own and the effect is calming and impressive. They're tightly drilled but easy going.
Woods is quite Cave and Cole in terms of his imagery. There are a lot of religious moments. Quite deliberately. These are songs you can enjoy and immerse yourself in at one and the same time. They don't reveal all their secrets and that's always a good idea. Keep some mystery.
I've enjoyed it a lot. I tell Woods that afterwards when he comes to the merch stand and I buy a £10 t-shirt. Something I don't always do. I talk to him briefly about the influence issue. Not really an issue here. I mention the Cave thing and he admits they get it a lot but he doesn't mind because he loves the man. I also tell him that despite the reminders there's a definite originality about what they do and that's admirable these days. Another great evening. My friend Jo knows. In the words of Big Country, (and as this is coming to a close, you'll be pleased this is the last of these quotes from the greats)., Stay Alive! It's important. I take my bus home.
No comments:
Post a Comment