Saturday 23rd September 2017 | Manchester, UK
I once found myself in a most peculiar state. I had been out for the night and having quite aptly quenched my thirst, I had the usual burning desire for the embrace of my true love – the doner kebab. However, my fairytale ending was not to be as I was all out of cash and thus an unworthy pauper in the eyes of my betrothed. Now what? I could not simply go to bed unsatisfied. So I toddled back to my home and entered my kitchen searching for a remedy.
And dry toast, and hardbook books
Nothing is spoken
On Sunday night we howl
Each day opens slowly | but the nights are folded up | and concentrated.
This is Manchester
The cotton mill roar in his voice
Tonight was always going to be about Reel Big Fish though and with this gig being one small part of their massive 20th Anniversary World Tour, it’s pretty much a given that what will ensue will be rather spectacular. That is, if they can get the microphones to work. With the gig already delayed by a tense 10 minutes, the lights finally dim and no time is wasted as ‘Sell Out’ strikes up, sending a surge of skankers into bouncing their way closer to the front.
After 2008’s insanely popular In Ghost Colours, Cut Copy were always going to struggle to follow up with an album that packed the same punch and ability to fill the dance floor. The Australian quartet’s third instalment provides us with a more serene landscape in which, whilst still maintaining the summertime bounce and sunshine appeal of old, also offers a more experimental insight into the path the band may now take. After due consideration, this path appears one I do not want to hear much more from.
As the show started, and timid guitars gathered together to create a melancholic atmosphere, a fellow spectator echoed my thoughts and turned to ask: “Is this Wolf People?” Yet undeniably, it was. This minimal, almost shy entrance was immediately juxtaposed by the introduction of the anthemic ‘Silbury Sands’ and a raw, guitar-based aggression was installed. At times I found myself returning to the heavy rock heaven of the early ‘70s and, dare I say it, a slight tinge of Led Zeppelin was evident in certain moments, as towering guitar riffs and booming bass lines resonated throughout the jam-packed Deaf Institute.
The idea of simply eating slabs of raw fish makes me feel somewhat uneasy – thus I hasten to stress that this is not what sushi is all about.
The food so good they named it twice. Couscous is the lazy man’s rice/pasta/porridge/kebab.
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