Where Worlds Collide

Second part of my November gig spree was under the effects of a bad cold, which at it’s worst had me off work for two days. And I think I caught it at the Heep gig.

Sunday night was back to Manchester Academy 1, and Opeth, for night of Swedish death metal that goes ‘Grrrrrr’

I’ve afraid I don’t remember an awful lot about the two supports, Cynic and The Ocean. One was all cookie-monster metal, the other more proggy with 100% clean vocals. Both quite enjoyable at the time, but not terribly memorable at the a week later, although the combination of lemsip and beer that kept me going probably didn’t help.

Opeth themselves are a lot more than a pure metal band nowadays; either that or metal has developed tremendously as a genre since Tony Iommi first started playing tritones through a fuzzbox. Their sound has been described as ‘symphonic’ - not in the sense of big sweeping keyboards, but in their complex multi-layered song structures, with twin-guitar harmonies and strange time-signatures. They completely eschew anything as conventional as ordinary verses and choruses, and typically include piledriving heavyness, gentle semi-acoustic sections, and densely intricate instrumental passages, usually in the same lengthy song. Mikael Åkerfeldt lead vocals alternate between harsh growls and soaring ‘clean’ vocals.

The awesomely tight band reproduce all that dense swirling sound from their albums note-for-note, helped by a clear (and not deafeningly loud) sound. Their 90-minute set included just eight songs, including two, ‘Heir Apparent’ and ‘The Lotus Eaters’ from the new album “Watershed”. Difficult to single out a single high spot, but it was nice to hear ‘Deliverance’ and ‘The Drapery Falls’.

Opeth might just sound like a wall of noise to the uninitiated, and it took me a long time to ‘get’ them, especially Åkerfeldt’s Cookie Monster growls. Live, they’re just magnificent.

Interesting interview with Bethany Klein of the University of Leeds on the future of the music business.

Klein: (Another sigh.) It’s a really difficult question because I guess I just don’t really care. I mean you’re right to say they employ thousands of people, but I think the music industry as it’s structured might be better off to raze it and start all over again and think about completely different systems of production and distribution, in which those thousands of people can still participate but in a slightly different way. It’s hard for me to think about how to fix an industry that, long before piracy, long before the digital revolution, was already failing in a lot of ways, in terms of cultural explorations.

M-M: How, exactly, were labels falling short?

Klein: Major labels function with the assumption that 90 percent of artists they sign are going to fail — that should have been a red flag for everybody. I mean that’s a bizarre business model in any arena. But particularly in the cultural arena, the idea that the system through which culture is transmitted is dictated entirely by profit should concern us, because that’s going to narrow the types of culture that are transmitted. And then, on top of that, the alternative venues of distribution are stuck in the shadows of these major labels. So it’s not like there’s a viable alternative, necessarily, for artists who don’t fit into this very narrow range that can become the 10 percent that are profitable and popular.

More or less what I’ve been saying for years - just about all the music I love falls in the 90% that the major record companies class as “failure”. The majors have been run by accountants for years; their idea of a ‘success’ has devolved into talent show contestants singing covers. The sooner they’re consigned to the dustbin of history the better.

What I don’t think we’ll see is a ‘one-size fits all’ business model for all kinds of music. We’ll see more artists outside of the sausage-factory market following the pre-order model pioneered by Marillion. We’ll certainly see some bands deciding to give their recordings away for free, making their money on touring. And some business models will fail.

As for the record company’s role as ‘gatekeepers’:

MySpace is basically music being distributed filter-free; well, what that means is that you get a million bands that are kind of awful and a few gems in there. But it’s a lot of work for consumers, and I’m not sure it’s more productive, or even more liberating, than other models like independent labels that clearly have a type of music they’re going to promote or a fanzine culture that also starts to filter things for you. Do people write fanzines anymore? I don’t know; I guess they blog. Maybe that’s the problem with the many-to-many communication style of the Internet — it becomes more difficult to find gatekeepers or filters you find trustworthy.

I think the many-to-many communication style is certainly no worse than the top-down model of the old music biz. Yes, it many be a lot of work to find bloggers who’s views you find trustworthy, but is really no better than the agenda-driven herd-instinct groupthink of the mainstream music press?

Normblog is hosting an Appreciation of Euston Station by David Garrard.

He does a good job of defending something which isn’t greatly loved by those that use it, and praises The Black Tower (as it is known) as a good example of 70s architecture.

I have to say it’s not one of my favourite railway stations; resembling a combination of an airport departure lounge and an underground car park. About the only positive thing I can say about Euston is that it’s not as bad as Birmingham New Street.

This is a bit of a rant, I’m afraid.

Why is the mainstream media so biased against rock? The mainstream press and television seems only seems to acknowledge the existence of two genres of popular music: r’n'b-derived production-line pop masterminded by the likes of Simon Cowell, and largely tuneless ‘indie’ made by people who can’t sing or play, which is presented as the so-called intelligent alternative. This is despite the fact that unfashionable melodic rock acts frequently outsell many of the media darlings of the month.

Look at BBC2′s Later With Jools Holland. This is supposed to showcase the sort of bands who excel at playing live. But I’ve been to 70+ gigs in the last 3 years, while I don’t expect the BBC to cater solely to my taste, not one of the bands I’ve gone to see are bands I could even imagine appearing on the show. Week after week it’s yet more bands with four chords and stupid haircuts all of which sound the same. Put a rock band like The Reasoning or Mostly Autumn or Porcupine Tree on that show and they’d blow that rubbish away. The one band I have seen at a festival who have appeared on the show was Andy Fairweather Low, in the ‘token 60s has-been slot’. And he was the most tediously dull act I’ve seen for years.

And then there’s Metro, the dreadful free newspaper distributed at railway stations in major cities. Every issue has a ‘what’s on’ guide for the city in which they’re distributed. And their featured gigs are always selected by the same person that chooses acts for Later. For example, on Tuesday night, Extreme were playing Manchester Academy 1, Uriah Heep was playing the smaller Academy 2 (the gig I went to), and Fish was playing just up the road at the Albert Hall in Bolton.

So what did Metro list as their featured gigs?

You’ve guessed it - the two obscure indie/’alternative’ bands playing in the smaller Academy 3 and Club Academy. That’s not just a carefully chosen example - they never feature any gigs I go to, whether it’s Porcupine Tree or Marillion playing Academy 1 or even Journey playing the Apollo. I’d love to be wrong, but I bet they won’t mention Mostly Autumn in February either.

Three gigs in five days, in two different cities.

We start in Manchester, with Marillion at their usual Manchester venue, Academy 1. Last year the place was still a building site with a temporary entrance, and festival-style portaloos. Now it’s finished, with a proper bar and cloakroom, so you don’t have to spend entire gigs clutching a wet coat.

The support band were so utterly forgettable that I don’t even remember their name. Marillion seem to be so determined to avoid any opening act with the faintest taint of ‘prog’ that all too often we end to end up with pretty generic alternative rock. As for this lot, I can tell you they were a four-piece, with one guitarist playing some pedal steel. But I don’t remember any of their actual songs.

Marillion, though, were excellent. Their two hour set drew heavily from their new double album “Happiness is the Road”, favouring the atmospheric first disk “Essence” over the rockier “The Hard Shoulder”, and interspersed with a few older favourites. The new material comes over very well live, but with a double album there’s no way they can play all of it in one set. I hope they tour again next year to play the other half of the new album. As for the oldies, it’s nice to hear ‘The Great Escape’ from “Brave” again, and while some people are saying ‘Neverland’ could do with a rest, it still makes a great set closer. As usual, there was nothing whatsoever from the Fish era. Steve Rothery in particular was on superb form - it’s not for nothing that I he’s possibly my all-time favourite guitarist. Nice one.

Then it was down south to London for Marillion’s former frontman, Fish.

Unlike Marillion, Fish always has good opening acts, and the support for the first part of the tour was none other than The Reasoning. With Fish’s own set timed for more than two hours, they had a short slot of just 30 minutes, not long, but just enough to make an impression. With a very good sound for a support band, they went full-tilt, just five songs (Dark Angel, Aching Hunger, Call Me God?, Awakening, A Musing Dream). A pretty storming set, and judging from comments on Fish’s forum, they went down well with the large and enthusiastic crowd.

Fish was on great form. Even though his voice isn’t what it was back in Marillion days he’s still a powerful live act, his sheer presence and charisma, helped by a talented backing band making up for any shortcomings in the vocal department. If this one didn’t quite match that legendary gig at Manchester last year, it still came pretty close. His set consisted almost entirely of his new album “13th Star” and old 1980s Marillion songs. Although he’s playing many of the same songs as last year, he’s made a few changes, notably including more of “13th Star”, and replacing some of “Clutching at Straws” with those two big hits from “Misplaced Childhood”. ‘Openwater’ in particular rocks as powerfully live as I expected it to. He went walkabout in the crowd during the cover of “Faithhealer”, and recognised me from Manchester; I got the “Oh God it’s him” look. Frank Usher, recovered from the health scare at the end of last year was on great form on lead guitar; his playing on his showcase number ‘Cliché’ was as utterly mesmerising as last time. Chris Johnson was great on second guitar; seeing him next to the 6’5″ Scotsman really does make him look Hobbit-sized.

The one sour note of the gig was that Fish insisted on telling that story about the Fairies. If Fish really wants to be known as the great lyricist and frontman he undoubtedly is rather than a bitter knobhead who can’t stop washing dirty linen and reopening old wounds in public, he really needs to drop that one. Yes I know what and who ‘Dark Star’ is about, and I don’t want to be reminded of it. There will be trouble if he tells it in York on Sunday, I tell you.

Back to Manchester again for the mighty Uriah Heep at Manchester Academy 2

Support was from a female-fronted five-piece Maccara, a pretty impressive mix of blues, metal and even a bit of reggae at one point. The impressed me enough to buy their album from the merch stand. We may be hearing more from this band in the future.

It’s several years since I last saw the Heep, at this very same venue. The last few times I’ve seen them they’ve played what amounted to greatest hits sets. This time, with their first album for nine years, they decided to take the brave step of playing their new record “Wake the Sleeper” in it’s entirely. It’s a ploy that could have backfired badly had the new album not been up to scratch, but with the strength of the new material it turned into a triumph. New drummer Russell Gilbrook has injected another level energy into this band, and they’ve become an unstoppable juggernaut of sound. The more guitar-driven new songs complement the Hammond-drenched older numbers well. Of the new songs, ‘What Kind of God’ was a high spot, as was Trevor Bolder’s “War Child”. The older numbers were without exception real crowd favourites like ‘Gypsy’, ‘Easy Living’ and ‘Sunrise’, dating from the 70s, all of which were rapturously received. This is a band that you can tell really enjoy playing live; Mick Box always has a huge grin on his face. That’s a possible candidate for gig of the year.

Three gigs, from three bands which are now well into the ‘veteran’ category - indeed their careers add up to ninety years in total. What’s significant is that not one of them has taken the easy route and become their own tribute band. Even if Heep and Fish’s sets included a lot of old material from the 70s and 80s, they also played a significant amount from their most recent releases. I’ve heard people (mostly indie fans) who insist that nobody can make good music after ten years. To which I say “Bollocks!”.

The second half of November goes gig-mad, with five gigs in fifteen days.

Tomorrow night it’s Marillion at Manchester Academy 1. I’ve had their new double album “Happiness is the Road” on almost continuous play for the past three weeks; it blows away the slightly disappointing “Somewhere Else”, and may even ending up topping “Marbles”. So I can’t wait to hear a big chunk of it live. I can’t think of the last time I’ve looked forward to a gig this much.

Then two days later I travel down to London to see Fish, supported by none other than The Reasoning. He’s announced he’s taking an extended break from touring after this UK leg, so this is the last chance to see him for a while. Last year’s Manchester gig was an absolute barnstormer, and I have high hopes for this one. And as you should know from reading this blog, The Reasoning rock.

And two days after that it’s back to Manchester again for the mighty Uriah Heep, well into their fourth decade on the road. It’s a long time since I’ve seen the Heep. They’ve come up with their first album for almost a decade, and it’s a good one.

Five days later it’s Manchester Academy again for a night of cookie-monster death metal from Sweden’s Opeth. The latest album “Watershed”, mixing swirling metal guitars with mellotrons is a candidate for album of the year. I last saw them in 2006, and they can indeed reproduce all that complexity live.

And another five days after than, what better way to end a sequence of gigs that Mostly Autumn at the Grand Opera House in York?

Can someone explain why someone spends thirty squid on a deluxe pre-order edition of an album when he admits he hasn’t liked the last six albums by that band, and then complains loudly on that band’s ex-singers forum how he hates the album?

On The Guardian Music Blog, academic Paul Crowther writes:

Defining Art, Creating the Canon: Artistic Value in an Era of Doubt responds to the neo-conservative/global consumerist degradation of artistic value. It responds also to postmodern theory’s unwitting tendency (in its affirmation of relativism and anti-elitism in questions of value) to offer indirect support for this degradation. Both standpoints reduce the human subject to a nexus of ever-changing desires driven by economic and social demands. They privilege also the reception of artifacts over the significance of how they are created.

I read through the entire piece three times, and I still had trouble working out exactly what this guy’s argument was. In the end I came to the conclusion that what he’s actually saying is a rather banal observation of the bloody obvious. I think. But I’m not actually sure; it’s like a babelfish translation of an article from Hungarian; you think you get the gist of it, but there may some subtlety and nuance I’m not getting.

Why do academics write this sort of indigestible gobbledegook? Have they spent so long in the ivory towers of academia that they’ve lost the ability to make themselves comprehensible to the general public? Or do they use a deliberately obfuscatory style to try and disguise the fact that they don’t really have anything profound to say?

Or is the whole thing just a clever joke? The Guardian’s revenge on the commentariat mercilessly taking the piss out of stupid articles by Alan McGee week after week?

I’ve left it a couple of days before posting anything on the US election.

As an non-American, my overwhelming sensation is one of relief. Not that I want to downplay the significance of American’s first black president, or the sense of hope so many feel. But I agree with Scottish SF writer Charlie Stross on this. The world dodged a bullet on Tuesday.

Barack Obama may turn out to be a very good president; in the coming years he’s going to have is work cut out to clear up the mess his predecessor has left behind, and is almost certainly going to have to make some unpopular decisions.

But the alternative really didn’t bear thinking about. McCain was 70, there are rumours that he’s got cancer, and his choice of Vice President was deeply frightening. I’m not sure how many of the 46% that voted Republican realise just how extreme this woman’s religious views are. I’ve already blogged about The New Apostolic Movement and their profoundly unChristian world-view. I don’t want anyone that believes she’s God’s choice to usher in the End Times to be allowed anywhere near the nuclear button.

After an extended silence, there’s been an update on The Bad Shepherds website

It’s been a weird couple of weeks. Three days before our tour was due to begin our promoter/manager suddenly stopped answering his phone and sent an email saying he was ‘withdrawing from the project’… Anyway, he’s no longer part of the set up, as you can probably imagine, but it was difficult for us to take
over the tour the way it was set up.

We’re really sorry for the inconvenience we’ve put you through if you’d bought a ticket.
And not a little pissed off at ourselves for the gigs we’ve missed.
Though we did manage to rescue the two Pocklington Arts Centre gigs which went down a storm.

So it sounds as though the reason Mostly Autumn were left completely in the dark was that The Bad Shepherds themselves were left completely in the dark by their cowboy of a promoter, who appears to have unilaterally cancelled the tour without actually consulting the band first.

I have a pretty good idea of the identity of this utterly unprofessional idiot, and I’ll be most reluctant to buy tickets for any concert that he’s got anything to do with in future.