Shimura Curves

Friday, April 21, 2006

Cathedrals of Sound

So I went to Sonic Cathedrals las night. Why, oh why, do the bands always start so LATE there? Don't they know that most shoegazer fans are now in our 30s? And consequently have mortgages and dayjobs amd last trains that must be caught? Howling Bells (advertised at going on about 10.15) didn't hit the stage until 11.30 which meant I only caught 4 or 5 songs before I had to dash to try and catch (with moments to spare) the last train to Brixton. Bah.

I'd had a good dinner and gossip with Catty, which meant I was in a good mood. Even though I had to shout at her for violating the Girl Code and fancying the same bandmember as I did. (Grrr, the lovely Carlos Barat is MINE, dammit!) Explained all about why Dylan Moran is the new Black and she was all "Oh, he's the Irish dude from Shaun of the Dead?" and her eyes went DOING! and lit up. But I've never seen that film because Hilton Betegeuse is in it, and even though being turned into a zombie and getting his head smashed open is the best fate you could wish on a former BoyThing, I was boycotting it for ages.

However, sitting around a club, by myself, waiting... and waiting... for the band to come on is, well, Rubbitch. Yes, the music was fantastic, as it always is, but after a while you start to think "But I've got all these records at home..." Ah well, loads of Telescopes videos (wow, psychedelic!) and a cute, floppy bartender, and when the hott shoegazer boys finally turned up, it was nice to have a bit of an oogle.

But then Nobody's Prawn turned up, and we had a good natter about cider and her upcoming all expenses paid jaunt to Rome (damn style journalists and their amazing perks!) and about why the support band just weren't doing it for us. So close and yet so far. Lovely guitar textures, but a bit too much of the old Sigur Ros and NO CHOONS. Yes, I know this is dronerock, but still. If you're going to have a singer, you should bother with a melody.

Waited... and waited... and waited... and I got so bored I curled all the strings of all the balloons in the venue. And Howling Bells came on (eventually) and they were amazing - sort of Opal meets JAMC meets Drugstore in an Australian spaghetti western (and oh my lord, they are Teh Hottness). The singer's voice has that quality of... otherworld-weariness that is quite hard to match. But, like I said, I had to leave after only 5 songs. Bah.

Going to see Bellowhead, an 11 piece folk orchestra with tubas and everything in Blackheath tonight. I used to go to folk gigs a lot with my father when I was younger, but I've not been to one willingly since I was a teenager. I'm reviewing it for Plan B, as well. Should be interesting, especially if it involves some of this:



Dirty Folk Boys, oh yes.

2 Comments:

At 12:58 PM GMT, Anonymous MarkH said...

I always loved the way you gave your boyf(r)iends funny pseudonyms. Speaking of pseudonyms I haven't worked out who Nobody's Prawn is yet but I am sure I will eventually (or you could email me with the answer ;))

 
At 2:05 PM GMT, Blogger Masonic Boom said...

Yes, you know Nobody's Prawn quite well! She is tall and fair and has a face which launched a thousand ships.

(I hope she does not mind this cryptic outing.)

 

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