Saturday, June 14, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Tight-trousered Revelry
Dear Chroniclers,
it seems but a moment since the coming together of Robert Plant, Alison Krauss, several thousand music fans and the denuded electrofried clan (namely yours truly, dear mrs electrofried and the darling teenygoth) at Birmingham's NIA. It's nare but a flipper's stroke or two from the adjacent Sea Life Centre. The attraction we've all come to see is, however, far from fishy.
In a surprisingly intimate setting, two blocks of seats having been curtained off and the mandatory Kashmiri carpets scattered loosely on stage by a dyslexic rug-roadie, we're greeted by the sight of a curiously tousled and somewhat subdued crowd. Picture if you will, a geriatric convention of leonine-bobbed perms punctuated by the odd scowling youngster (teenygoth again), all sipping mortgage-busting plastic bottles of tepid water. Such are the excesses of the average Plant fan these days.
Mrs electrofried is duly despatched in search of some illicit Sanatogen and an accompanying bucket of over-priced ice-creamery whilst teenygoth and I mount a full-frontal assault on the giddy heights of the NIA upper-circle. Donning oxygen masks and crampons we make heady progress and reach the summit but a moment before the opening turn peeks its way past the stage-curtain. We're greeted by the sight of sundry top-row activists gasping for breath and clutching free bus-passes tight to their mackintoshed breasts. I swear at least one of them is packing a warm Thermos and cling-filmed cheese sandwiches.
No matter, the opening act, young Master Scott Matthews, is an affecting performer - especially with a rather dashing acoustic slide bottleneck number toward the end of a short but enjoyable set. I'm lead to understand he appears later this year at the Moseley Folk Festival (a contradiction in terms) and I may be tempted to investigate further.
A short interval, lights dimmed and two shadowy figures make their way onto opposing sides of the stage. One is dressed in improbably pointed cowboy boots, a black jacket and trousers that leave little room for a decent sized leatherette pension-book - the other carries a fiddle. Birmingham welcomes Robert and Alison!
Two hours pass in a dream. The music defies categorisation and the trousers defy the passing years - all is indeed well with the world! Much of the recent "Raising Sand" album is played, and jolly well too. The biggest surprise, however, is the unveiling of three numbers from the legendary fourth Zeppelin album. Who would ever expect Americana versions of "Black Dog", "Battle of Evermore" and "When the Levee Breaks"?! The decidely tasty band eschew conventional interpretation on two of these numbers, and instead weave a mesmeric, elegiac reprise. "Battle of Evermore" is, however, the sublime triumph as Robert's still dulcet tones lock intimately with the younger voice of Krauss, born the year the original was recorded. Sandy Denny would smile so ....
The standing ovation says it all - three sweet encore numbers later and the lights go up. We return to the reality of grey, rain-specked streets of Birmingham late on a Bank Holiday Monday. But wasn't the journey worth it!
yours as ever,
electrofried (mr)
it seems but a moment since the coming together of Robert Plant, Alison Krauss, several thousand music fans and the denuded electrofried clan (namely yours truly, dear mrs electrofried and the darling teenygoth) at Birmingham's NIA. It's nare but a flipper's stroke or two from the adjacent Sea Life Centre. The attraction we've all come to see is, however, far from fishy.
In a surprisingly intimate setting, two blocks of seats having been curtained off and the mandatory Kashmiri carpets scattered loosely on stage by a dyslexic rug-roadie, we're greeted by the sight of a curiously tousled and somewhat subdued crowd. Picture if you will, a geriatric convention of leonine-bobbed perms punctuated by the odd scowling youngster (teenygoth again), all sipping mortgage-busting plastic bottles of tepid water. Such are the excesses of the average Plant fan these days.
Mrs electrofried is duly despatched in search of some illicit Sanatogen and an accompanying bucket of over-priced ice-creamery whilst teenygoth and I mount a full-frontal assault on the giddy heights of the NIA upper-circle. Donning oxygen masks and crampons we make heady progress and reach the summit but a moment before the opening turn peeks its way past the stage-curtain. We're greeted by the sight of sundry top-row activists gasping for breath and clutching free bus-passes tight to their mackintoshed breasts. I swear at least one of them is packing a warm Thermos and cling-filmed cheese sandwiches.
No matter, the opening act, young Master Scott Matthews, is an affecting performer - especially with a rather dashing acoustic slide bottleneck number toward the end of a short but enjoyable set. I'm lead to understand he appears later this year at the Moseley Folk Festival (a contradiction in terms) and I may be tempted to investigate further.
A short interval, lights dimmed and two shadowy figures make their way onto opposing sides of the stage. One is dressed in improbably pointed cowboy boots, a black jacket and trousers that leave little room for a decent sized leatherette pension-book - the other carries a fiddle. Birmingham welcomes Robert and Alison!
Two hours pass in a dream. The music defies categorisation and the trousers defy the passing years - all is indeed well with the world! Much of the recent "Raising Sand" album is played, and jolly well too. The biggest surprise, however, is the unveiling of three numbers from the legendary fourth Zeppelin album. Who would ever expect Americana versions of "Black Dog", "Battle of Evermore" and "When the Levee Breaks"?! The decidely tasty band eschew conventional interpretation on two of these numbers, and instead weave a mesmeric, elegiac reprise. "Battle of Evermore" is, however, the sublime triumph as Robert's still dulcet tones lock intimately with the younger voice of Krauss, born the year the original was recorded. Sandy Denny would smile so ....
The standing ovation says it all - three sweet encore numbers later and the lights go up. We return to the reality of grey, rain-specked streets of Birmingham late on a Bank Holiday Monday. But wasn't the journey worth it!
yours as ever,
electrofried (mr)
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