Sorry, but it's a defining British characteristic to harp on about how bad (usually) or how good (much rarer) the weather is, and after a day and a half of non-stop rain, the sun has come out.
The corollary to this is that the sun is out because it's now extremely windy, and the wind is what's shifted the clouds.
The moral of this post, if there is one, is that in metaphor and meteorology, as one door opens, another closes. Just don't get your fingers caught ...
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| I think this is the sun ... it ... it's been so long, you see .... |
That Gig I Keep Going On About: part 2
Getting there at just after 8:00, Conrad had the choice of places to sit since the audience were thin on the floor. There was music being played, and a film appeared at the back of the basement, leading yours truly to wonder if it wasn't back-projected.
Then I realised what that stack of chairs and crates over at the side was for - they supported the projector. Improvisation! Yes, it's remarkable what you can manage with a plastic pallet and a roll of duct tape.
Now, I didn't take any pictures myself. Ed Sprake did, lots, but they're copyright and I don't think he'd be pleased if BOOJUM! nicked all his photographs, and our funds won't stand being dragged through the highest courts in the land, enriching solicitors as we go. So I will ask about using them.
Sphelm
| Sphelm in acoustic mode |
were inspiring.
This is even better given that the title of the Facebook track was "The Square Root Of F*** All", causing Conrad to imagine - before actually hearing it, of course - that it would be a grim copy of a Norwegian death-metal band sounding as if recorded inside a cement-mixer whilst it worked.
Cogi
Pronounced "Koh-Gih", the sample Facebook track had been quite light, ambient stuff
reminiscent of Bibio. Cogi in the flesh proved to be one man, with his magic box of
electronic tricks.
| Cogi. Well, the closest thing my Google-fu could conjure up |
dull: there's no entertainment in a man pressing buttons and twirling dials, unless he has a
troop of performing dogs in the background, or a team of majorettes in short skirts.
Right?
Wrong! Cogi (first name? Last name? Pseudonym?) made the audience pay attention by cunning use of two things: 1) Bass and 2) Volume.
1) At times your whole body shook when a particularly intense note was struck, the
vibrations came up through the ground and rattled your bones, making sure you paid attention.
2) Compared to Sphelm, this was LOUD! As in HEAVILY AMPLIFIED.
I met Cogi outside as I left and he indulged in a cigarette, and put those two points to him, which seemed to strike an amused chord**.
From The Kites Of San Quentin
I shall heretoforth*** shorten this to "The Kites", as it's a bit tedious to type the whole
thing out again and again. Don't mention keyboard shortcuts, either, or you surely will die.
Conrad will declare an interest here - he actually works with Alison, the singer, and she is one of the sunniest people imaginable. She must get cross, or annoyed, or <horrors!> even irked sometime, but I've never seen it.
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| I didn't ask permission for this photo. Heh! |
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| Conrad, hep cat^, already has the CD |
impressive Craig Armstrong feel to it.
One of the words used by "This City Is Ours" (The Kites' record label) to describe them
was "epic", which I didn't think appropriate - except it certainly is for some of the tracks
when played live, as they hit with a punch and scope that the old i-pod dock simply can't deliver.
Oh, and lastly, Alison was not well, bad throat infection, which is why she kept popping tablets and swilling water. Bless the lass! She also arrived rather late since her yoga class had over-run, but we can forgive her with an excuse like that.
Edited to add that Mr Sprake (of Ted Sprake Photography) has given the okay for a few photos of his to be used, so here we go:
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| Sphelm in their acoustic glory - also showing the projection. |
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| Cogi, manipulating his machineries of joy. |
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| The Kites, with Alison in full emote |
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.794420603935716.1073741862.437624556281991&type=1
Ah - so that's how you post a link.
Ambient Music
Ironically although there was none at the gig, there was in the hotel room at Sasha's. When Conrad used the bathroom for the first time, he was sure music from the next room was leaking in via inefficient sound-proofing. Whenever he came back, though, the same faint, reedy whistling could be heard. So, unless it was the neighbouring suite playing the same music for seven hours non-stop, it was an artefact of the air-conditioning. Not sure how to encapsulate that in a picture.
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| Ambulance. Close enough |
Thanks to the preferential booking as provided by glamourous understudy Anna, Conrad got a breakfast the next morning, at the breakfast buffet bar on ground level. You know the thing - trays of sausages and bacon, fried eggs, scrambled eggs, baked beans, strawberries and grapes.
It was the grapes that nearly did for Conrad.
Somebody had thoughtfully dropped several onto the parquet wooden floor, then trodden on them, and then left the mess there. Consequently, when Conrad put his great big foot on that exact spot, one leg went that way and the other went that way. Only catlike reflexes, a grab at the countertop and a bit of luck ensured that I survived to type this. I didn't even break the plate I dropped.
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| This Steinbeck chap knows what he's writing about |
* He will do in reality when he steals that telepathy gear from DARPA
** "Chord"? Get it? As in mus - oh you do.
*** Mister Hand explains "heretoforth" is what posers use instead of "now"
^ Said with irony, me being more of an old dog.
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