Apres Garage
I went to see Pere Ubu again. I've seen them twice over the past two years and been slightly disappointed. Nevertheless, following a band is a bit like supporting a football team. Or so I imagine. You stick with them through all their concept albums about ducks.
First I had to get a ticket. Since I very seldom part with money online this meant physically going somewhere, in this case the Jazz Cafe in Camden. It was dark, and unoccupied save for a little booth by the door, inside which a woman was struggling to operate a primitive form of Windows. She gave the impression of being new to the job, and even to civilization itself: when the phone rang, her first impulse was not to lift the receiver but to turn the whole thing upside down and frown at it. Nevertheless I got my ticket. Written on it were the mysterious words: 'Relentless Garage Sale'. The gig was at the venue formerly known as the Garage, in Islington, which is now sponsored by a fizzy drink called Relentless. The Relentless Garage sounds like a very peculiar children's picture book. Couldn't they have got a more suitable sponsor? Esso, for example?
Then again, that might have created confusion.
Two things pleased me about the gig. Firstly, I got a seat. Secondly, they played the old stuff. God, that sounds bad. Truth is, though, that whole concept album based on the 19th century Absurdist play was a dead horse which no amount of flogging - or teasing with cattle prods - could lend a semblance of life to. 'I screwed up', admitted lead vocalist David Thomas, having abandoned the scheduled playthrough of that album two songs before the end. After the interval, it was straight into one of their first singles, Final Solution ('Don't need a cure, need a final solution.')
Rarely have those words been greeted with such enthusiasm. 57-year old Thomas berated his audience for preferring the old songs, but he didn't mean it any more than, back in the day, he meant Final Solution to carry certain unfortunate associations. He was young and naive, back then. Not now. 'One day', he serenaded us towards the end of the set, 'I will be your man. One day, I'll be the best that you can do.'
'I'll kill myself first', said one (male) audience member. Rather unkindly I thought.
First I had to get a ticket. Since I very seldom part with money online this meant physically going somewhere, in this case the Jazz Cafe in Camden. It was dark, and unoccupied save for a little booth by the door, inside which a woman was struggling to operate a primitive form of Windows. She gave the impression of being new to the job, and even to civilization itself: when the phone rang, her first impulse was not to lift the receiver but to turn the whole thing upside down and frown at it. Nevertheless I got my ticket. Written on it were the mysterious words: 'Relentless Garage Sale'. The gig was at the venue formerly known as the Garage, in Islington, which is now sponsored by a fizzy drink called Relentless. The Relentless Garage sounds like a very peculiar children's picture book. Couldn't they have got a more suitable sponsor? Esso, for example?
Then again, that might have created confusion.
Two things pleased me about the gig. Firstly, I got a seat. Secondly, they played the old stuff. God, that sounds bad. Truth is, though, that whole concept album based on the 19th century Absurdist play was a dead horse which no amount of flogging - or teasing with cattle prods - could lend a semblance of life to. 'I screwed up', admitted lead vocalist David Thomas, having abandoned the scheduled playthrough of that album two songs before the end. After the interval, it was straight into one of their first singles, Final Solution ('Don't need a cure, need a final solution.')
Rarely have those words been greeted with such enthusiasm. 57-year old Thomas berated his audience for preferring the old songs, but he didn't mean it any more than, back in the day, he meant Final Solution to carry certain unfortunate associations. He was young and naive, back then. Not now. 'One day', he serenaded us towards the end of the set, 'I will be your man. One day, I'll be the best that you can do.'
'I'll kill myself first', said one (male) audience member. Rather unkindly I thought.
posted by martin at 11:15 AM
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