Morrissey, The Roundhouse, Camden, London, 23-01-08
23/01/08 19:02 Filed in: Gigs
"I'd like to begin with a quote from Mother Teresa... don't let the bastards grind you down!"
Half an hour before I had been sitting in my aunt's house laughing and chatting, I had a little time before the gig started and decided to have dinner with the family before I left. I related tales of my two gigs so far. They think I'm mad. It's a quite lovely 10-15 minute walk from the house to Chalk Farm and I arrived with minutes to spare, found a spot beside the mixing desk again and off we went. It was starting to resemble Groundhog Day in some ways. Would it be Playboys or HSIN to start? Neither. A new song and a quote not from Mother Teresa. Probably.
I wondered if I would get yet another song I'd never heard before live and as if by magic the awesome Jack the Ripper was played. Then, somewhat bizarrely, the Kristeen Young vocal part, at the start of That's How People Grow Up, was played in sample form. Yes, I'm quite sure about that. But as he started to sing, his voice went. Hoarse and cracking I feared the worst, an early end to the evening. "Want to bet my voice is gone by song six?" But he's made of sterner stuff than that and came back to Camden with the best version of Stop Me... I've yet heard. Two days without singing at this point is probably a good idea but, with great relief palpable from all present, his voice stayed strong the rest of the night with only one slightly croaky vocal near the end.
I saw a review the other day remarking on how he has been working with guitarist and bandleader Boz Boorer for four times as long as he worked with Marr. We laud his old band but in years to come may well realise that *this* band is the best he's ever had. A world away from the precise but sparse indie pop four piece he used to front, this is loud, powerful and heavy and this set of musicians could not be better - Boz, drummer Matt Walker, keyboard/guitar/accordion player Chris Pooley, magnificent lead guitarist Jesse Tobias and new bassist Solomon Walker, brother of Matt, who, to be fair, is a hot skinhead but only a limited musician, in no way an equal replacement for Gary Day. The sound these men create whips around the venue, creating a cacophony of noise like I've never heard, and there's no song they play that doesn't sound better live than it ever has before.
'This song is dedicated', he announced solemnly, 'with love, to Heath Ledger'. Life Is A Pigsty. Shortly after, for the first time at these dates, he delivered a beautiful Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want and the audience let out a collective sigh. In one sense, you know what you get with Moz. He sings, 'Don't rake up my mistakes, I know exactly what they are' and while you accept the contrary, curmudgeonly side of him you also feel great love coming at you from the stage, as this is a man who appreciates his audience like no other artist I've seen. During a small break for a technical problem a young man appeared on stage, having made it past security. This happens often at his gigs - some launch themselves at him to plant a big kiss, some kneel before him, some, once they make it up there, don't quite know what to do and their moment of indecision is all security needs to haul them off. This young man held his hand out, which was met, and kissed the hand of the Stretford Bard. A grown man, almost cowed to his knees by this nearly 50 year old singer. He means more to people than anyone outside of this could understand. The hovering danger of his voice packing up again made this the best show of the three so far. There was a lull in the middle when I lost concentration and became distracted during a new song but he got me back again in no time.
I'm tired. Yes, finally. It's much more to do with trouble sleeping than it is the gigs but I feel somewhat dazed this morning. Three gigs in three days. If I'd been getting enough sleep I'd be able to do another tonight but as it stands, I'm quite relieved I have a night off - and I'm relieved his voice gets one too, since we're only half way there. Three gigs played, 25 songs heard. It barely scratches the surface of his back catalogue. Now it's time for a rest and then a sprint to the finish line. I've seen him from the back of the venue and now the barrier calls me to the front.
(LT note: never got to the front – the very next show, his voice went and, despite attempts at comedy from Brand, Ross and Walliams, the crowd was sent home with only 3 songs played. The remaining shows were cancelled. Six gigs in seven days was a bad idea, I could have told him that!)
Half an hour before I had been sitting in my aunt's house laughing and chatting, I had a little time before the gig started and decided to have dinner with the family before I left. I related tales of my two gigs so far. They think I'm mad. It's a quite lovely 10-15 minute walk from the house to Chalk Farm and I arrived with minutes to spare, found a spot beside the mixing desk again and off we went. It was starting to resemble Groundhog Day in some ways. Would it be Playboys or HSIN to start? Neither. A new song and a quote not from Mother Teresa. Probably.
I wondered if I would get yet another song I'd never heard before live and as if by magic the awesome Jack the Ripper was played. Then, somewhat bizarrely, the Kristeen Young vocal part, at the start of That's How People Grow Up, was played in sample form. Yes, I'm quite sure about that. But as he started to sing, his voice went. Hoarse and cracking I feared the worst, an early end to the evening. "Want to bet my voice is gone by song six?" But he's made of sterner stuff than that and came back to Camden with the best version of Stop Me... I've yet heard. Two days without singing at this point is probably a good idea but, with great relief palpable from all present, his voice stayed strong the rest of the night with only one slightly croaky vocal near the end.
I saw a review the other day remarking on how he has been working with guitarist and bandleader Boz Boorer for four times as long as he worked with Marr. We laud his old band but in years to come may well realise that *this* band is the best he's ever had. A world away from the precise but sparse indie pop four piece he used to front, this is loud, powerful and heavy and this set of musicians could not be better - Boz, drummer Matt Walker, keyboard/guitar/accordion player Chris Pooley, magnificent lead guitarist Jesse Tobias and new bassist Solomon Walker, brother of Matt, who, to be fair, is a hot skinhead but only a limited musician, in no way an equal replacement for Gary Day. The sound these men create whips around the venue, creating a cacophony of noise like I've never heard, and there's no song they play that doesn't sound better live than it ever has before.
'This song is dedicated', he announced solemnly, 'with love, to Heath Ledger'. Life Is A Pigsty. Shortly after, for the first time at these dates, he delivered a beautiful Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want and the audience let out a collective sigh. In one sense, you know what you get with Moz. He sings, 'Don't rake up my mistakes, I know exactly what they are' and while you accept the contrary, curmudgeonly side of him you also feel great love coming at you from the stage, as this is a man who appreciates his audience like no other artist I've seen. During a small break for a technical problem a young man appeared on stage, having made it past security. This happens often at his gigs - some launch themselves at him to plant a big kiss, some kneel before him, some, once they make it up there, don't quite know what to do and their moment of indecision is all security needs to haul them off. This young man held his hand out, which was met, and kissed the hand of the Stretford Bard. A grown man, almost cowed to his knees by this nearly 50 year old singer. He means more to people than anyone outside of this could understand. The hovering danger of his voice packing up again made this the best show of the three so far. There was a lull in the middle when I lost concentration and became distracted during a new song but he got me back again in no time.
I'm tired. Yes, finally. It's much more to do with trouble sleeping than it is the gigs but I feel somewhat dazed this morning. Three gigs in three days. If I'd been getting enough sleep I'd be able to do another tonight but as it stands, I'm quite relieved I have a night off - and I'm relieved his voice gets one too, since we're only half way there. Three gigs played, 25 songs heard. It barely scratches the surface of his back catalogue. Now it's time for a rest and then a sprint to the finish line. I've seen him from the back of the venue and now the barrier calls me to the front.
(LT note: never got to the front – the very next show, his voice went and, despite attempts at comedy from Brand, Ross and Walliams, the crowd was sent home with only 3 songs played. The remaining shows were cancelled. Six gigs in seven days was a bad idea, I could have told him that!)