Wednesday
wasn't a good day.
Early in
the morning, and without much fanfare, a malignant misanthropic
malaise descended on me.
As each
minute slipped by it dug its claws deeper into my psyche and embraced
me ever tighter to its bosom.
It would
be fair to say that by noon I hated everything and everyone.
Even
Travis Bickle.
Fuck the
rain coming and just washing the scum away.
Let it
come and sweep everyone away.
Bring on
some biblical sized disaster and be done with it.
Pain can
be the catalyst for feelings like that, and I am in pain.
It
radiates from my fractured arm, my chipped wrist and ankle, and it
throbs across my cracked rib, and I hold it responsible for much of
how I felt.
The dull
ache has been with me for weeks.
Although
it certainly feels longer.
It's a
gnawing pain that rarely subsides unless it is being blanked out by a
much sharper one.
The
secondary pain is one that snatches my breath away, brings tears to
my eyes, and is akin to what I imagine holding a naked flame to a raw
and exposed nerve ending would feel like.
I'm sick
of it.
So sick
of it that I thought twice, and then a third time, about just giving
the trip to Glasgow to see The Temperance Movement and the River 68s
a miss, but a part of me knew that I would regret it.
As
William Congreve said 'Music has charms to soothe a savage beast, to
soften rock, or bend a knotted oak' and if you swapped savage beast
for my emotional well being, rock for bone and knotted oak for muscle
then good music was probably exactly what I needed.
That was
my focus.
To just
tune everything around me out, and stand alone and let the music wash
over me.
Let it
smooth away every sharp edged stabbing pain and soothe me.
I knew it
would be a gamble though.
Not every
show can carry deliver, but I decided that the options where to allow
myself to continue to hate everyone, or try and find my way back to
some semblance of balance.
The River
68s were a good therapeutic start.
Unfortunately
I had short changed myself by turning up just in time to catch the
end of their set.
Having
seen them before I am well aware of how good they can be, and from
the plaudits being voiced around me it was obvious I had missed a
great performance.
The sound
as I walked into the cave that is Nice and Sleazy's was the best I
have ever heard in the venue, and Craig McCabes vocals were coming
through not just loudly, but with perfect clarity.
Things
have went a bit quiet of late in the River 68 camp, but that is going
to change.
Take my
word on it.
The next
year is going to see them kick some doors in.
The buzz
that surrounds The Temperance Movement right now is just waiting to
be passed over to The River 68s.
A solid
debut album will ensure that they draw attention to themselves that
could lead to pretty much anything.
Nothing
is quiet in The Temperance Movement camp right now though.
With
dates in venues to small to hold them creating a bit of a frenzy for
tickets, and a forthcoming appearance on the bill with Bruce
Springsteen, The Black Crowes and Alabama Shakes at the Hard Rock
Calling festival in London, the band are currently on the cusp of
reaping the rewards that they have been working hard towards
achieving.
Is it all
a case of the Emperors new clothes though?
All talk
and no walk?
The
answer is not at all.
Everything
I wanted was there for me to take.
I stood
near the front and felt the hairs rise on my neck.
I closed
my eyes and the music held me, and it did in fact incrementally make
me feel better and better.
It was as
if I had created a small bubble for myself to exist in and my only
connection with the world outside was the music of The Temperance
Movement, and do you know what?
It's all
that was needed.
The
savage beast was soothed and the muscles in my neck lost their
tension.
My
loathing for humanity took a back seat and I felt a nudge of
positivity for the first time that day.
As the
night progressed the set went from being good, to great, to then
reaching, and attaining that magical moment that goes beyond it just
being another show.
I've
spoken about it before.
That
shared communal experience that sits outside what is normally
expected.
When they
turned off the pa and did an acoustic version of a forthcoming album
track called Chinese Lanterns they struck a chord with the audience
that will lead to those who witnessed the show to be able to say in
years to come that they were there.
Nothing
more will be needed to be said.
'I was
there' will convey it all.
What they
created in that moment can't be repeated on a stadium stage, and it
will only rarely be created in small venues.
That's
because everything has to fall in place at the right moment.
It's when
metaphorically speaking the stars align.
Drop some
unknown quantity from the equation and it can't have the electricity
of life breathed into it.
For me
this was to touch aural nirvana.
A small
glimpse at something that is mainly indescribable because it goes
beyond being conveyed in a review.
It has to
be experienced as anything other than being there in the moment will
just be a facsimile that lacks all the shading and passion that the
original has.
If the
live experience is the original painting then the description of it
is just the paint by numbers version being regurgitated in a cack
handed manner.
Bottom
line is that The Temperance Movement probably stopped me from setting
fire to the world and watching you all burn.
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