Flipping Tennis Elbow
American Music Club at Birmingham Academy 5.2.05
We decided to watch the Wales vs. England match at S’s so it proved a huge and mighty rush getting to Birmingham in time for this concert and S, J and I scampered up the stairs at Bar Academy just in time for the first number. The tiny, claustrophobic venue was packed and, with the stage no more than a dais of ten inches, for once I was unable to use my six feet to enjoy an unblocked view. I would have to admit that this was a fairly unsatisfactory evening. The musicians were skilled and soulful, the voice of Mark Eitzel rang out plaintively and 95% of those gathered were attentive and appreciative. However, the sound, which seemed ok to me, obviously bothered Eitzel who seemed tense and fretful throughout. The man takes himself very seriously and generally I like this but his misery can prove endemic. My other main concern was the pace of the music which remained defiantly slow all evening. If I wasn’t such a frightful snob I’d admit to thinking that ‘all the songs sounded the same’. Towards the end came respite. A man near the front was screaming, again and again, for the band to play Outside This Bar. I coolly stood proud and thought silently, ‘I hope they play Firefly’. They played Firefly seconds after this thought entered my brain and it was the highlight of the set. It was the only upbeat moment of the concert and I feel my extra sensory perception helped many of the audience leave contentedly. Many of the crowd chatted relentlessly throughout. A bespectacled gentleman near me had no interest in the music and rabbited non-stop about, inter alia, the break-up of Busted and the onset of tennis elbow. All the songs sounded the same. The evening was saved by frankly strange scenes at Frankley Services involving urinals, Scotch Eggs and petrol canisters. I know the month is young but that was, thus far, the heartiest I have laughed during this merry month of February.
Luckily the nightmare at The Stoop is overshadowed by the events at the Millennium Stadium in the same way that JFK’s death overshadowed that of Aldous Huxley who, verily, perished on that selfsame ‘63 day. The death of Gloucester bothers me far more that the demise of the red rose though. The only positive I can draw on is that a sneaked victory may have papered over cracks that need repointing, plastering, sandblasting, and, finally, papering with the finest quality wares.
I am blasting out ‘These Were The Earlies’ by The Earlies as I write this. It is my first playing and I think I’m going to enjoy it immensely. S also let me have 'Rabbit Songs' by Hem last night and I shalt be spinning that item plus tard.
