[kj] [OT] Magazine - London Forum 13th February (spoliers)

[Karen Weil]

Hi  there! Excellent review -- makes me feel like I was there! 

k.w.
  ----- Original Message ----- 
  From: Darren A. Peace 
  To: 'A list about all things Killing Joke (the band!)' 
  Sent: Saturday, February 14, 2009 6:20 PM
  Subject: [kj] [OT] Magazine - London Forum 13th February (spoliers)


  As promised, for anyone interested (and a warning for those who aren't, there's little to interest you here), this is how the Magazine gig went for me.

   

  Venue was the London Forum in Kentish Town. The last time I went to a concert there it was the KJ two-nighter, when my car (parked in Reading) was broken into.  This time, I was taking no chances, and found a new car park with electrified shutters, machine-gun turrets and patrolling security guards with Dobermanns lacking their larynxes. Chatham Place, in case anyone might use it. Cheaper than parking at the railway station too, slightly.

   

  Didn't get to see more than the last song of the support act, a 4-girl group called Ipso Facto, as my friend who was coming to the gig with me was in a coach stuck on the M4 for three hours. Still, Ipso Facto were interesting, although all I knew about them was that one of their number is Hilton Valentine's (from the Animals) daughter. Saixties-ish vibe, although it was unfortunate that the fancy dress shop only had three Louise Brooks wigs left, as the drummer stood out rather.

   

  Once they were done, and I'd amused myself at the merchandise stand (which took card payments! Wish more did) - buying three t-shirts, a CD compiled from several Magazine bootlegs I already have and a Magazine mug (since this was Magazine, there is certainly a post-modern joke there, but a mug with "I know the meaning of life" on one side and "It doesn't help me a bit" on the other will sit well alongside my Nick Cave tea towels and the space where the Grinderman knickers might have been); I baulked at the Malcolm Garrett silk-screened prints - £50, but £75 when signed by the artist & the band - I've got enough shit on my walls already - although I've seen and enjoyed "Hunger", I'm not meaning that literally - and I have much-treasured "Shot By Both Sides" 7", "Give Me Everything" 7", "Real Life" & "Secondhand Daylight" LPs all autographed in my presence already; anything Magazine related needs to be signed by McGeoch to be of interest to me), it was time to get to the front and assess the audience.

   

  I really had no idea of what type of audience to expect; the last time I saw Magazine everyone was between 15 and 20 and looked 15 to 20 years old. It turns out that by and large Magazine fans are short (bonus! no Lurch in front of me!), male, with a proclivity for trendy spectacles and manbags. There were some women there, but not many. More than at the KJ gigs, I'd say. And everyone was very polite as we barrelled to the front(ish). To be honest, everyone looked rather as though they were more used to attending garden centres and discussing the finer points of the Palestinian conflict. With manbags, which are an abhorrence and should result in spot fines and a going over with rubber hoses.

   

  The venue clearly had an eighties new wave compilation CD to hand, as we listened to it twice; still, "Sons & Fascinations"-era Simple Minds is a particular favourite of mine, and there was Buzzcocks (although not "Lipstick", sadly), so it wasn't all bad.

   

  And then "The Thin Air" came on over the PA. Lights down. Sense of anticipation ferocious. After the whole track, a spoken Devoto monologue from behind the theatre leg, and then the curtain opened.

   

  Straight into a superb "Light Pours Out Of Me". Great "Real Life"-inspired backdrop. Adamson kitted out like a Baron Samedi pimp lord, with top hat, Jason King shirt open to his Borat and Fly-era U2 shades. Noko (who, in fairness, made a decent fist of the guitar work, but no-one's McGeoch) in what appeared to be a scarlet velour suit, with soul patches all over his face, and with a worrying propensity for pulling spooge-faces at inopportune moments. Doyle looking like an accountant behind the drums (it always amused me, in the Armoury Show, when they were thinking of "cool" names for themselves, McGeoch was "The Legend", Jobson was "The Captain", Russell Webb was "Universe", and John Doyle was ... "Doylie"). Formula, criminally undermixed throughout, was startling in a pork-pie hat. Then out skipped Devoto.

   

  I'll make my position clear. I think Howard Devoto is a God-touched genius, and is my favourite ever lyricist (yes, better then Mark E. Smith). His book of lyrics is fantastic, and can be read as poetry - his solo "Rainy Season" is a deeply significant song for me, for many reasons, but one of those reasons is the perfection of the lyrics. It was therefore unfortunate that he appeared in pedal pushers, espadrilles and a pink yachting blazer. With his total baldness, I'm afraid he looked like Dr. Evil, and I outraged the fat bloke wearing a flat cap standing next to me by saying "One million dollars" in a stupid voice to my friend at this point. Still, with his onstage freedom (I particularly liked his pretending to be a 'plane bit, although Shellac do that best, I think) and his mannered delivery, he didn't let me down. Very theatrical, but absolutely right.

   

  The setlist?

   

  The Light Pours Out of Me
  The Great Beautician In The Sky / Model Worker

  The Honeymoon Killers

  Because You're Frightened
  You Never Knew Me
  Rhythm of Cruelty

  I Want To Burn Again
  This Poison
  A Song from Under the Floorboards
  Permafrost
  The Book
  Twenty Years Ago /Definitive Gaze
  Parade 
  Shot By Both Sides
  ENCORE:
  Thank You
  Motorcade
  2nd encore:
  I Love You Big Dummy

   

  The "Correct Use Of Soap" and "Magic, Murder & The Weather"-era tracks had members of Ipso Facto (whose LBDs & Louise Brooks wigs were by this stage starting to grow on me) popping up to sing backing vocals; the songs came across surprisingly well in a live environment, although it's the first two albums, when Magazine were lumbering and surly, that inspire my love for this band. Noko royally fouled up the guitar riff during "The Honeymoon Killers"; I don't remember Mandelson having such trouble with it.

   

  The fact that the setlist was CUoS & MM&TW heavy was a slight problem for me; I wouldn't have dropped anything (oh, all right, "The Book", of which more in a moment), but it would have been perfect to have had "Back To Nature", "Give Me Everything" and "Feed The Enemy".

   

  Little things were a delight; Adamson reclining on a fold-up chair like the louche bastard he is, as though he were awaiting some intimate attention for "Thank You", Noko making a hash of  the solo in "Permafrost" (which song was absolutely the highlight for me), the mid-set eulogy for McGeoch. Even "The Book", the yawnsome b-side, was transformed by having Devoto read the text from behind a lectern, with the unfortunate consequence, with the accompanying dry ice, of making him look like Davros, talking like Wallace. "Not now, Gromit" was another aside that agitated my fat friend in the cap. He, however, got elbowed in the kidneys by a flailing midget during the fast bit of "Motorcade", so that was satisfying.

   

  The main problem was the shitty sound. This is a band who need the keyboards up in the mix, and I couldn't hear Formula for great swathes of the set. Things would certainly have been muddied by my being so far forward, but I've heard much better at the Forum. There was some irritation at the inconsistent behaviour of the audience, who generally seemed not to have been to a gig since the eighties; standing around self-consciously some of the time, then suddenly launching into that awful keep-feet-still-sway-at-the-hips-and-make-udder-milking-movements-with-the-arms spastic dance, resulting in my being drenched by what tasted like Pimms on two occasions.

   

  Wouldn't have missed it for the world; if I could be sure of better sound, I'd go to one of the Manchester dates.

   

  Hope anyone who goes has as good a time as I did. Photos (within the constraints of the crappy iPhone camera) are on my Faecebook page, but I don't go to gigs to take photos, so there aren't many.

   

   

  Darren

  Hungerford, UK



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