So sad/About us
So sad/About us
Sad that we had to break up/Sad that we’ll never make up
Sad about us
(‘Sad About Us’ – The Who, as covered by The Jam in 1977)
I do not like the new Breeders album. Listening to it upsets me.
I do not want to be another sad divorcee performing to no one. I do not want to be on this train. I do not want this life. I want to be drunk and singing ABBA songs in the lobby of a fancy pants Seattle hotel. I want to be in a dressing room, solid glass ashtray hurtling towards my head.
(‘The New Breeders Album’ – The Legend!, 2018)
Greatest show of 2018, no denying.
My thoughts are disjointed, even for me. How do you capture moonlight in a jar? Semi-linked observations clutter my semi-consciousness: half the crowd dancing like they’re dream-walking through a Kate Bush video to Suburban Death Twitch; a random comment on Twitter (“That’s all the thoughts I had last night. I was too busy being aware that I could see Everett True dancing to process any other information”); The Legend! band described as “bonkers” by a passing piano-teacher; a female comedian outside raving and raving about a semi-improvised shouty sweary number detailing disgust for train rides performed on stage; Chris pointing out that the singer of Vital Idles looks like Lauren might when she grows up; noise and clatter and what-how; another (less random) observation from the same person on Twitter (I’m nicking this one because it’s a good ‘un): “Suburban Death Twitch: if Victoria Wood and Tamsin Greig formed Belle and Sebastian in 1982″; Emily from SBT telling a killer anecdote about how she came over all faint when she spotted Dana from Porridge Radio in the club earlier because “I’ve literally played her album every day for the last year” and stating how she’ll never be dismissive of someone being thrilled at the sight of Paul Simon leaving a hairdressers (check) again; entranced watching Dana so casual and intense and in control and questioning and brilliant and looped and (reminding me of myself) dark during her performance; Suburban Death Twitch magical and blowsy and theatrical and full of songs disenchanted people of all ages can relate to and lose themselves within, killer choruses too, especially the sea-shanty one about “you can take all your clothes off/if it makes you feel younger/if it makes you feel stronger” (check) , not just people my and their age (they are much younger than me); watching so many people dancing and loving watching all these people dancing; Vital Idles sharp and angular and angry in a passive-aggressive way, five times as loud as everyone else what with drums and all, the bass Devo-questioning and the guitar clipped and truncated and ow!; one dude from the Scots band saying earlier we’re the best three bands they’ve played with all tour (damn straight, I mean… seriously? Who the fuck could compete with three of the fucking finest four or five bands in Brighton?); The Legend! band (Chris, Maria: sax and violin and loops) is about the serious moonlight and the modern dance, the softest numbers are the angriest and the most offensive the quietest… and,..
If I was writing for Classic Rock or The Guardian, I would sort this jumble out, apply cohesion. I am not. I do not want to dispel the magic. When I was younger I used to believe attending music shows was all about the music and nothing but the music. How little I knew. (Maybe it was for me, back then.)
Community. That’s all I’m looking for. A sense of community.
It culminates with this song. Just making noise. That’s all any of us are doing. Just making noise.
Daniel is calling me now, to play a game involving magnets. I would like to rhapsodise more over the magnetic genius of Suburban Death Twitch but I gotta run now. I know they will understand.
Suburban Death Twitch
Dana from Porridge Radio
The purple moonlight. Three ways to deal with that empty feeling of loneliness.