Spear of Destiny - Ivory Blacks 27/11/10 (Glasgow)

Glasgow is busy tonight. Madness, Biffy Clyro, nomeansno, Saw Doctors and Frankie Boyle are all filling the larger and more well known venues, while every pub and club also appears to have something to offer.
For me there is only one attraction though, and that's Kirk Brandons Spear of Destiny who have slipped in a late show in Ivory Blacks to promote the new album and give us a run through of some classic tracks.
Unfortunately while Glasgow is busy Ivory Blacks is not.
Similar to the last Spear of Destiny show in the ABC2 attendance is rather uninspiring and it is something that is starting to piss me off because I know why it is happening.
It's all down to lack of local promotion. That's it in a nutshell.
Instead of putting some posters up and distributing flyers there seems to be a reliance on word of mouth amongst fans to pass on that the band are playing, and to be frank the SOD grapevine isn't working.
My fear is that if this lack of promotional work continues then an artist fronting a band that I admire, and enjoy watching play live, will think that there is little point in returning.
How crap will that be?
So before I move onto the actual review I'm going to paraphrase Kennedy and ask Kirk Brandon fans to think not what Kirk can do for them and instead what they can do for Kirk.
The next time he, or his band are up north, I want to see facebook, twitter and myspace ablaze with the news.
Don't be content with picking a ticket up for yourself, but instead ask some mates along for a night out.
Remind people how good Spear of Destiny are by posting up youtube videos online with a link to the date they are playing.
Just get involved because anyone who was at the Ivory Blacks show knows that he, and the band, deserve to be playing in front of larger and more enthusiastic crowds.
Right. Rant over and onto the gig.

New album “Omega Point” is being touted as a real return to form, but I would take issue with that as a return to form hints that a band had lost their mojo and that's not an accusation that could be levelled at Kirk Brandon and his Spear of Destiny.
Proof of this is prevalent throughout any live show that anyone is lucky to attend.
New and old material sit shoulder to shoulder in solidarity showing that they are a band who have never lost their form.
As the opening chords, keyboard flourishes and pounding drums confidently charge out of the starting gate Kirks voice soars and takes charge.
This is why over the years I keep coming back to see Kirk Brandon.
He doesn't do lacklustre gigs. He puts vein popping effort into every single show.
The man can raise the hair on the back of your neck with his powerhouse vocals and the current line up of SOD are the tightest band that I have ever seen playing with him. I was impressed last time they played, but even more so this time.
It's down to the balance.
While I stand there stage front I don't get a nudge towards the past, but instead find myself watching a band who don't do nostalgia, but instead weave old and new together and create a moment that is immersed in the present.
It's simply fantastic.
If I was offered the chance to see anyone else who was playing in Glasgow this night I would have politely told them no thanks.
By the time they are midway through Kalashnikov I'm blown away.
If I had my way then this gig would have been in the Barrowlands in front of a sold out crowd, but as it's not my call I guess I will just have to live with Kirk playing more intimate shows.
Last song of the set Young Men was a sublime effort in maintaining control on the edge of losing it, while for the encore they ran through a rousing Liberator that had a few bodies who should know better thrashing about a bit.
It was the perfecting ending to pretty much a perfect night.
If I was to be picky I could say that the set wasn't long enough, but to be honest Spear could play for a few hours solid and I would still say that.

I suppose it's here that I should practice what I was preaching earlier and tell everyone reading that Kirk will be back in February to do a solo acoustic show in Kilmarnock.
Tickets will be on sale in the next week or so. Here's a wee flyer for it if you want to punt it about this internet webby thing.

100% confirmed

The riot that wasn't a riot.

My heart swelled with pride yesterday when I watched the students march on Whitehall.
Why shouldn't it?
According to the coalition trolls who were frantically out in force across social networking sites - most mirroring the behaviour of the foul mouthed and less than intelligent guests of the Jeremy Kyle show that they loathe - I should be loudly condemning the violence, the disorder and the civil disobedience.
Without any sense of humour involved the very same trolls are happy to advocate the "cracking of student oiks heads" by the police though.
There is also a partially hypocritical statement from Camerons spokesman who appears to have a rather one sided view of any violence and intimidation displayed on the day.
Well I'm sorry, but I don't condemn their actions at all.
I will not condemn anyone for exercising their right to protest.
Especially when their reasons for doing so are altruistic.
One point the media, and those who support the coalition, are happy not to raise is that those young men and women who were out protesting are actually doing so for those who will follow them into further education.
It's not all about them.

They also don't want anyone to consider that this was simply the cause and effect reaction to the ideologically driven, and draconian, policies that their coalition are attempting to bully through parliament.
Without them there wouldn't be anyone protesting on the streets at all.

So while they wilfully point the finger at anyone who doesn't agree with them, they should maybe be taking a step back and considering what the real catalyst for this action was.
That they refuse to do so hints that they want nothing more than a deferential society.
One that is willing to accept the widening gap between those who have and those who have not, and guess what side of the fence they will be on?
Let us not lose sight of what is actually happening here though. This is not about a police van being vandalized*, a bus shelter being trashed or some windows being smashed.
This is people publicly opposing the dismantling of the welfare state, the moving of education out of reach of a whole segment of society, the draconian cuts to the public sector, the attack on the NHS, the tax avoidance of the wealthy and the bail outs of the banks (while the bankers continue business as usual) to name just the tip of an iceberg that is floating in public view.
History is littered with similar actions and they all have a common thread, and that thread is that any government who fails to listen to the people will regret stepping down that totalitarian path.
In fact above every door of every building that houses politicians they should carve the words “Without the support of the people we are nothing.”
It would be nice if they didn't need to be reminded of that, but are we in any doubt that they do?

We have had decades of acting like apathetic turkeys voting for x-mas and now due to this government relentlessly pushing us all into a corner, over what feels like a very long six month period, we have started to push back.
Make no mistake. This is the start and I applaud it.
We have still to see the disabled, the unemployed, the carers and more taking to the streets.
Unless this government start listening then their actions will do nothing more that swell the ranks of the dissenters, and there is no evidence that they will listen. So bring it on.
As it is Clegg and his Lib Dem cronies don't appear to be able to differentiate between a pledge and a promise. Say one thing and do another is their mantra it would seem. Yesterday he even stated for the record that regardless of the amount of protest and dissent that Cameron and himself would not be considering any changes to the tuition fees policies.
A rough translation could be “Say what you want because we don't care.”
Hopefully this attitude that they are displaying is starting to sink in with the general public and they will receive the reaction that they deserve.

*eye witness report from Whitehall.

Heiko Khoo – Police planted an old police van in Whitehall in the middle of 4000 demonstrators, we asked the police to remove it, they refused. Police only 20 yards from the van refused to protect it. They wanted it to be attacked. The 'attack' on the van was an excuse to kettle 4000 people for 8 hours, some 11 years old. We had no water or toilets for 5 hours.

Wedding Bell (ends)

Doff your cap and have a tug on your forelock you dirty prole for we be about to have a royal wedding.
Well that's the advice that Simon Heffer – he of the Telegraph – appears to be dishing out.
Apart from the offensively lofty attitude he has on display it is also a rather outdated mindset isn't it?
If you were wanting to find a common consensus with his views then I suspect that HG Wells would have to lend you his time machine.
Either that or visit your local Conservative party offices on a Friday afternoon after they have had a liquid working lunch.
(That's when they let their hair down and drunkenly advocate that fox hunting doesn't go far enough, and instead it should be used as a population control measure on council housing estates - allegedly)
Old Simon very nearly avoids addressing the fact that as we are picking up the tab for this wedding that it just might be a justifiable reason for some of us daring to express a view, but he covers this by holding the opinion that similar to Victorian children we should be seen and not heard.
I mean how dare we even consider that we should have an opinion on the matter, never mind voice a concern about its costs.
That we are going to pay for it isn't an irrelevance.
Its simply our duty it would seem.
I suspect if he had his way then those of us who are working would be forced to do an extra shift a week and the unemployed would be taking a cut in their benefits to pay for it.
The whole tone of his article harkens back to the days of pomp and circumstance, god save the queen and an unquestioning attitude to those that we should consider to be our betters.
The class divide is everything.
The elite will decide the path we walk on and those of us who have nothing will carry the load down it for them.
What a crock.
It's 2010. Not 1910.
This isn't the great rock and roll swindle. We have our very own “not so great royal wedding swindle” going on and people like this oaf are blatantly telling us that we should be basking in the reflective glory of a couple of toffs getting hitched at our expense.
Did this fool not expect that there would be a backlash.
Against a backdrop of “we are all in this together, we all need to economise and tighten our belts, we can only guide this country through a recession by cutting public services, we will all have to pay more and expect less, and cuts, cuts and more cuts” headlines, the “oooh lets have a royal party and you can pay” from those who have bags of cash themselves was never going to fly past unopposed.
Next they will be telling us that while they said that there was no money in the national pot they have just found a few billion down the back of the couch that they are going to lend to a mate - who might not ever be able to pay us back - rather than use it to pay the bills that they keep telling us need to be paid.
Nah. That would be just one step too far though. I'm being silly.
They couldn't cut front line public services and then do something like that could they?
WHAT? They are?
No way.
Seriously?
The mind boggles.
I'd doff my cap at the audacity of that if I hadn't sold it on ebay along with my forelock.

No Elvis, Beatles or the Rolling Stones

Well you can drop Elvis out and add in The Who and the Kinks instead and lets start a discusssion.
Mr Kenny Helwig, he of the days of our youth blog, started the ball rolling on this through a facebook post and I've picked it up.

So here's what Kenny posted.

Okay, here is the question

The Who
The Beatles
The Kinks
...The Rolling Stones

Who is your fave????????????

Me? The Beatles, followed closely by The Rolling Stones

and my response.

In order of preference.
The Rolling Stones
The Kinks
The Who
The Beatles.
...
The Stones grabbed me as a kid and never let go. There was something wild and subversive about them that in hindsight probably geared me up to delve into punk.
Of course as I got older and immersed myself further into music and its history I could see their influences and even took on board that much of their bad boy image was a media invention, but none the less they had the biggest impact on me.
The Kinks are sublime. Rays lyrics are beyond reproach and are what drew me in. Take there biggest tune Lola as an example. An international hit whose subject matter is shagging a tranny.
Get in there. Subvert, subvert, subvert. Fantastic.
The Who are simply the template for a rock and roll band brought to life. They balanced between sanity and insanity and delivered classics while doing so.
That I haven't placed them higher is just down to personal taste.
Listen to Live at Leeds and be blown away. I love them because I feel that they walked the walk rather than just talked the talk.
The Beatles. Love them to, but in my mind - probably because I live in the UK and grew up listening to them - I can't help but see them as a mainstream band.
They were a hit making machine and regardless of their counter culture credentials that came later I just can't see them in any other way than being chartbusters.
Similar to the Stones their media image stuck with me.
Maybe that's not fair, but it's just the way it is.
They were too white bread for me in so many ways.
I can sit back and look at the depth of their career and appreciate that in a short length of time they set the benchmark for excellence.
How can anyone really argue against that
I do in fact like them, appreciate them and will sing along when I have a Beatles day, but purely down to personal choice the other guys come in before them.

Borland by John Grant

Local fiddle player - or should that be alt-fiddle player as he has always lived both in the past, present and future when it comes to playing his instrument of choice - John Grant has recently added author to his list of accomplishments with the release of his début "Borland".
I got a sneak preview of it before it went to press and was suitably impressed.
We on the west coast of Scotland much prefer to keep praise to a minimum when it comes to friends and are loathe to admit that anything they have been involved in is any good.
To be frank telling someone that their efforts aren't completely shit is about the highest compliment a man could receive.
So in the spirit of that I have to say that "Borland" isn't completely shit at all.

Here's the selling blurb and if you wish to purchase a hard copy or even an online one then the contacts are at the bottom of the page.

"A personal account of growing up in late twentieth century Kilmarnock, Scotland. Love, life and honouring friendship through traditional music.

At the age of nineteen, Scottish traditional fiddler John Grant embarked on a journey to immortalise all who inspire him in life through traditional music. This book describes the journey - sometimes hilarious, sometimes painfully sad, never dull or predictable.

Taking the reader on a journey as diverse as the "Save Johnnie Walker" campaign through to touring Europe with psychobilly band The Termites, this is a must read for everyone interested in traditional music and Scottish life with 51 pieces of sheet music enclosed within the book"

http://www.scruffyred.com/
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/seonaidhgrannd

Kid Congo & the Pink Monkey Birds - Soundhaus (26/11/09)

My name is Kid….and I am from Mars……

It sometimes felt that this was the gig that was never to be.
It’s a tale of double bookings, incompetent local promoters and a hero who rode in to snatch victory from the jaws of ineptitude.
It all started as these things often do as a random run of events.
I slipped on Kid Congo and the Pink Monkey Birds latest platter and midway through giving it a spin thought ‘Hey, wouldn’t it be cool if the band were to play Glasgow’.
That thought rattled about inside my head for a while. An itch that I couldn‘t scratch.
So I let my fingers do the walking across the keyboard only to find serendipitously that the band were indeed playing.
Coincidence? Kismet? Does it really matter?
Then when I read on my initial excitement was cruelly dashed.
Kid Congo was explaining that due to a double booking at the Captains Rest the band were without a venue for the gig and the show was in the lap of the gods.
I rushed off a message to the band throwing a Glasgow promoters name forward in the hope that a last minute salvage job could be worked out.
CJ of ’The Tragic City Thieves’ jumped aboard and frantically called around looking for a venue to host the band. Unfortunately, just like Joseph and Mary in the lead up to little baby Jesus being born, there were no doors open to him and he came up empty.
It wasn’t looking good.
Then out of the blue a bulletin appeared on myspace. A new venue was secured and it was happening.
Details were sketchy.
All I knew was that the show was going ahead in the Soundhaus and the doors would open at 10pm.
That was enough. The bare bones is all you need. Everything else is just meat.
On arriving KelC and myself were the first in the door and my paranoid self jumped forward laughing and whispering that no one was going to turn up and the gig would be cancelled.
Then the hero of the hour stepped forward, a guy name Alan, and introduced himself.
This was the fella who sorted everything out last minute. Not a promoter, or a chancer looking to make a quick buck, but a simple fan.
The whole night was his baby from start to finish and everyone who was there owes this guy a drink. Fuck it. I’d buy him two simply for reaffirming my faith in the goodness of people.
There is a small feeder bar/chill out room adjacent to where the bands play and it is in here we are ushered for a pre gig DJ set.
The sounds hit the spot.
From classic 60s R and B to the some proto punk rock with a bit of Bo Diddley telling us he’s a gunslinger, it was all good, and as the time drew closer to Kid Congo and The Pink Monkey Birds playing we were treated to a plundering of tracks from ’Songs the Cramps taught us’.
By now my negative outlook on the attendance figures was slipping away as people started to crowd the bar.
Two acquaintances arrived from my home town. Christ knows how Gav and Billy found out about it, but including ourselves that was four brave souls from deepest darkest Ayrshire that had made it.
Not bad for a place that thinks jungle drums are at the cutting edge of communication technology.
The crowd swelled some more and this was a testament to Kid Congos pulling powers as there was barely any time to promote this show. A good portion must have been there through word of mouth alone.
We finish our drinks and head in for showtime.
It’s only a couple of minutes before The Pink Monkey Birds wander through the crowd and take to the stage resplendent in their mariachi suits. A sense of anticipation ripples through the crowd and Kid Congo joins them.
I had a preconceived idea that as a front man he may have been workmanlike, possibly even a tad uncomfortable assuming the role of focal point for a band, but I was so wrong.
Kid Congo controls the stage. Up front is where he should be. He has the mojo going on.
Psychedelic garage is pumped out and we are lapping it up.
By the time they reach ‘I found a Peanut’ from ‘Dracula Boots’ everyone is singing along.
The band are weaving magic up there on the stage and the audience are spellbound. Events become blurred. Kid Congo tells us that they already have a new album finished.
It’s coming out early next year and we should watch out for it being released as five seven inch singles. They give us a taster by playing a song that may or may not have been called ’When I was a punk’. A track that is blisteringly good.
As would be expected there was a strong contingent of Cramps fans in the audience and they were in a lather when Kid dedicated ’I’m Cramped' to the memory of Lux before following that on with the Gun Clubs ‘For the love of Ivy’.
Someone leaned in and said that it doesn’t get any better than this. I think he was being specific, but when I agreed I was meaning the gig in its totality. The covers, or audience pleasers if you want to call them that didn’t overshadow the bands own material at all. The quality of the show started on a high and refused to dip throughout regardless of where the songs played came from.
For me this year has been one of the best ever for gigs and this one has just rocketed into the top five.
The cover of Ronnie Cook and the Gaylads Goo Goo Muck finished me off.
In hindsight the Captains Rest couldn’t have handled this and the larger Soundhaus was a far better option.
I’m tired now. I’m emotional. I’ve waited a long time to see this guy and his band and my high expectations were more than matched.
There are more UK dates and then they are crawling through mainland Europe. So don’t be square daddio and make it your mission in life to catch one of the gigs. You will not be disappointed.

Green Day/Prima Donna - Glasgow SECC

The SECC is predominately awash with children.
I would love to be able to claim altruistically that I’m pleased that so many young people are excited about live music, but the reality is that if the tweenie in front of me makes one more squeaky assertion about one more band that she has gleaned the name of from Kerrang then I might wring her scrawny little neck.
According to the font of all tweenie knowledge Prima Donna are shit, although she glibly admits she hasn’t seen, nor heard them.
I mean c’mon. Aaaaaaaaaaargh.
This sort of inane chatter that’s grounded in bullshit is all around me.
Twenty minutes standing in the line behind her is enough for me to entertain fantasies of the child catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang arriving and decimating the crowd in one fell swoop.
maybe he could lure about 60% of them away with the offer of meeting Billie Joe Armstrong and then lock the little fuckers up in cages for everyone over twenty five to throw bananas at.
Thankfully Prima Donna provide an excellent distraction form the prepubescent throng. .
Neatly sidestepping the glam sleaze cock rock hair metal LA scene of the eighties they prefer to root themselves in the classic stomping glam of the seventies, while giving a cocky wink to the early NY scene of the Dolls and Ramones.
It’s a heady mix that completely by passes the majority of the Green Day acolytes who appear to be mainly unaware that a band are actually playing before their gods arrive.
The lack of appreciation from the majority there doesn’t phase me in the slightest though.
Fuck them.
It’s their loss.
If they can’t hear and see that this band are special, regardless of the fact that they’re not neatly keying into the modern day demographic of what they should be listening to, then I reiterate, fuck them.
This band have actually existed in my head since I was a kid.
They're my dream band.
f I imagined a look, a sound and an attitude and then conjured a band into existence for my own entertainment then this is that band.
They've made my fantasy a reality.
There’s the swagger of the Dolls, there’s some T-Rex, the sax reminds me of Hanoi Rocks and then there's more and more and more.
Live they sound like a melting pot of all the very best albums that I own.
Opening with Soul Stripper they hit the stage with high octane glee and keep the pace up throughout a short, but very urgent, set.
Chinese Rocks is sublimely ripped from the past and transported to the here and now.
When played right this is a tune that still sends shivers up and down my spine, and tonight the fire is there.
Shit. I wish this was in a small sweaty club as this is how Prima Donna should be seen.
A bit of Gary Glitter is thrown in, but I doubt anyone under thirty even notices.
It’s only about three quarters of the way through their show and I had to slip off to the merch stall and grab a t-shirt and CD.
There’s a pile of CDs there and no one seems too interested, but I’ll happily step out of time to the drumbeat everyone else is marching to.
The t-shirt's an impulse buy, but if in some small way the buying of it extends the life of this band to another album, tour, or whatever, then its worth every penny.
When I get back into the auditorium I catch the end of the show, and just in time to hear them promise that they will return to Scotland soon.
I hope that’s not a glib promise as I’m setting aside the cash for a ticket right now.
What a gig.
Time to go home.
Oh wait. There’s still Green Day to go.
What can I say.
Green Day are like tectonic plates now.
They have moved on so slowly from American Idiot that you can barely see the change.
There’s a new stage show and a few new songs but apart from that this is the American Idiot show all over again.
The audience participation angle is starting to wear thin due to over exposure and their lauded two and a half hour set could be whittled down to an hour and a half without it.
Of course they'ree pretty much faultless in the execution of the gig, but personally I’m thinking that the rock behemoth stadium show takes from the performance as much as it gives.
The balance is off.
For every highlight there’s equally a point where it drags.
The splitting of the crowd for some call and response shenanigans can be fun, but by the second and third time its failing to impress and I'm stifling a yawn.
I’ve seen Green Day on virtually every UK tour and the romance seems to be over.
Have they outgrown me, or is it the other way around?
I don’t know, maybe we just want different things now.
No matter. Unless they can re-engage with something less superficial then I can’t see me coming back.

The World/Inferno Friendship Society - Glasgow Stereo 10/8/09

The World/Inferno Friendship Society’s Glasgow gig was most definitely in American football parlance a game four quarters.
Dave Hughes and his band were a monumental disappointment. I thought that a bit of familiarity with his material would have notched up my enjoyment a bit, but after starting on a high with their opening song it was all downhill after that. Dave has a weak voice and his band are shambolic.
Take it from me. I’m being kind here.
Talented individuals they may be, but apart from the guy playing the mandolin they may have well all been playing in different bands. Highlight of the set was when Dave snapped a string as it allowed for a couple of minutes respite for me.
It wasn’t really an auspicious start to the night but The Dirty Demographic rode in next to provide a standard of quality that had so far been sadly lacking. How can you describe them though. Remember a band called Do me bad things? They were a fantastic live band that threw everything into the mix. A bit of a rock, a bit of soul, a bit of disco and anything else that came to hand. I personally think it was a bit too much for most people. A case of aural overload that people couldn’t wrap their heads around.
Well the Dirty Demographic are a bit like that. Quirky keyboard pop, dual vocals, with a bit of jazz, some horns, some rap and although it shouldn’t work, it does. Imagine the kids from fame as disillusioned adults having a mid life crisis and getting back together to play in a garage band. That’s the Dirty Demographic.
If an audience can just accept the fact that this band will not be neatly pigeon holed then they could actually be your next favourite band.
I would definitely go and see them again, and maybe even again and again and again. So should you.
After having my spirits raised by the Dirty Demographic Joey Terrifying came on and my enjoyment of the night plummeted to the depths of despair.
The deal in bland shouty testosterone heavy punk that I have seen a million times before. The bassist was the best bit about them. He had it locked down. Great bass runs through every song and when he took to the mike he showed himself to be a better singer than the front man. It still wasn’t enough to salvage the set though. This sort of thing appeals to a certain demographic of punk fan and I’m quite happy not being one of them. I’d have the band taped off in a corner and encourage security to usher people along saying ‘move on, nothing original to see here.’
Nothing to do with their performance, but after their set it looked like they all fucked off and left the guitarist to manhandle all his equipment off the stage. So much for punk rock unity. Poor guy looked like he was cultivating a hernia.
Nah. I’ll be remembering their name, but only to give them a miss in the future.
Last band on was of course the World/Inferno Friendship Society.
I’ve been waiting a while to see these guys, and my expectations were pretty high, but truth be told it wouldn’t have mattered how high my expectations were as they would still have surpassed them.
The cabaret punk tag gets bandied about often enough, but it’s apt. So who am I to swim against the tide. A performance is just that, a PERFORMANCE. Equally as theatrical as they are punk rock they know how to engage with an audience. What they do goes beyond just playing a gig, hosting a party, or putting on a show. It’s a communal experience where everyone get’s to participate if they so wish.
Someone once said that punk grew out of white kids being unable to dance. What a crock. If they had been at this gig then they would have seen how far off the mark they are. I, and a good chunk of the small crowd danced from start to finish. Not just jumped up and down, but really danced. We gyrated, twisted, shook our thangs and even waltzed throughout the show. At points I would have to stop to catch my breath and try and drag some oxygen in from the overheated air, but regardless of occasionally seeing spots in front of my eyes I would jump back in there to join in again.
Bodies over forty aren’t really equipped for this sort of exertion, but no one appears to have informed TWIFS and they are hell-bent on whipping everyone up into a frenzy regardless of age or gender.
The politics are kept to a bare minimum with anarchism only being mentioned a couple of times and a bit of a ‘Do they owe us a living (of course they fucking do)’ is wheeled out. The band don’t deal in pushing a political agenda. They want to sing, dance, stretch their imagination and dream of a better place for us all and if you want to come along for the ride then you are more than welcome.
I actually wish that they played here at least once a month as it is just the sort of pick me up that I could do with on a regular basis. This was one of the top gigs of the year.

Bruce Springsteen - Glasgow

The bus journey was pretty much uneventful.
We got the bus instead of the train as there had been a fatality on the line and Christ knew when the next one would have been.
More money, a longer journey and a more uncomfortable one.
We arrived in Glasgow mid afternoon and had a look in Fopp where we got a few bargains and then KelC got here tragus pierced in Forevermore Tattoos. Basically we were just wandering about a bit killing time before heading out to Hampden.
Throughout the afternoon the rain was sporadically making an appearance and it done little more than provide a drab backdrop to the day.
There was no carnival atmosphere like there was on the day of AC/DC. No hordes of Springsteen fans. No strains of Bruce coming from the shops at all.
It could have been any Tuesday afternoon in Glasgow.
You could have been forgiven in thinking that you had arrived on the wrong day for the gig.
After exhausting the options of ‘things we wanted to do’ we jumped on the train to Mount Florida and the sense of anticlimax began to really kick in.
Prior to AC/DC the train was packed to bursting point with fans in an exuberant mood and ready to party. This one was full of commuters heading home from work with probably nothing much more on their mind than settling down for a night in front of the television ahead of them.
Outside Hampden we met up with friends who had been in line since early morning to get access to the ‘golden circle.’
They felt the day had passed quite fast, but that might have had more to do with the alcohol they’d consumed and the camaraderie of the hardcore Springsteen fans that they were ensconced with.
We only spoke to them for a little while before the gates opened to let the anointed Springsteen acolytes in. ( I think they got to see the sound check, but forgot to ask later). Then we then went and bought a couple of t-shirts and joined the swelling lines of the great unwashed, of which we were but two of, that didn’t have the magic marker number daubed on them that gave access to the stadium early.
We stood, and we stood and we stood and we stood.
Then the rain came on, then the rain went of, then it came on again, then it slowed to a trickle, then it did an impression of a monsoon and finally the gates opened.
Inside we noticed that the golden circle was huge so KelC and myself headed straight for it. I felt a bit sorry for the people who had queued up since last night for access to this area while the vast majority of us just streamed in and jostled them out of the way.
They must have been royally pissed off.
Then we stood and stood and stood and stood until it felt like my feet were chewing on my ankles.
Finally, after the roadies did their thing for what seemed like an eternity, Nils Lofgren of the E Street Band walked on stage with an accordion and started playing ‘O Flower of Scotland’ and at the moment everything changed.
All the hours of waiting in a downpour suddenly became worthwhile. The rest of the E Street Band and Bruce Springsteen were welcomed on stage by the world famous Hampden roar that’s usually reserved for international football matches.
For a couple of seconds it was deafening.
One minute there was zero atmosphere and then it was a if someone had run a charge of electricity through the whole stadium.
Bruce Springsteen knows how to play a crowd and that’s apparent from the moment he appears.
It’s classic Bruce. He passionate, he’s funny, he’s personal and he throws his guitar about like a hammer.
He’s on the lip of the stage more times than you can count. Virtually in the crowd every five minutes.
He collects banners and uses them to introduce songs. He gives his harmonicas away after each song and the lucky members of the audience who are chosen to receive one look as if they will pass out on the large screens on each side of the stage.
At one point the has a little girl of about six sing along with him and without doubt you can see that this will live with her forever. Christ she has just sang with an icon of rock in front of tens of thousands of people.
This is how Bruce connects with people. He blurs the lines. It’s not an audience watching a show. It an event where the people are encouraged to participate. The crowd put as much energy into this as the band do. It’s not them and us. Just us.
I’ve tailed off from his more recent material over the last few years and the unfamiliarity of some of it allowed me to disengage to an extent and take in the crowd instead.
All around me people are transfixed. It’s rare to see such adulation and the crowd ranged from kids to pensioners. It would appear that Springsteen is everything for everyone.
I don’t think that there was much passing trade at this show. The vast majority must have been hardcore Bruce fans and could sing along to every word of every song. Even the new tune ’Outlaw Pete’ that was played at Glastonbury for the first time had everyone singing along.
The E Street Band are accomplished musicians and you can tell that wherever Bruce leads they can effortlessly follow. No change of pace throws them off course. It’s a very fluid performance.
Some of the songs from Born in the USA sound like they have been turbocharged. Cover Me is a guitar driven blast of noise that only has a passing resemblance to its studio cousin. While Working on the Highway sounds like a party in full swing. Even Dancing in the Dark, that I’ve always thought was a bit cheesy, took on a whole new life.
The highlights for me where the older tracks though.
Born to Run, The River and Thunder Road are three that I would pick out as being that bit extra special.
The last quarter of the show flew by.
It was as if the band were going for it as hard as they could. They knew there was an 11pm curfew and they were determined to squeeze in as much as the could. There wasn’t a moment to pause for breath.
When they ripped into Twist and Shout there was no doubt that they had managed to impress everyone in the stadium at one point or another. They really do cover all the bases.
Although these events are getting rather pricey I don’t think that anyone could honestly say that they were short changed by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.