Pete and the Pirates, Duchess, 18 April 2011 - Snap review
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Oxford.
Home of the University that includes such alumni as the ever mythic Ted Hughes
and Sylvia Plath coupling, it is also the anchoring of Pete and The Pirates, a
deceptively titled bands which feature less songs about ships and more about
cats, girls and parties.
A thoroughly fantastic band, I defy anyone to hear
‘Come On Feet’ and not move. Genius.
The night magic came to York… The night started in Fulford Arms, York (one of the city’s best venues for live music) and ended in Wowtown, courtesy of Thomas Truax. I admit prior to the evening I knew little of his work, save for his reputation of inventing his own instruments. Starting with ‘Inside the Internet’, complete with dial up tones, it felt like the beginning of, what was, a very special evening. Words can’t really describe the gig in justice, but here’s a selection. There’s an incredible inventiveness about Thomas Truax that’s completely mesmerising. Sounding at times like a complete orchestra, it’s an one-man show like no other. It sounds impressive, ‘invents his own instruments’, but it’s more than just putting an extra string on a guitar (which may also be great). We’re talking hornicators, gramophones, beaters, mouthpieces from saxophones, fishing reels, a spinning jenny, just to list a few. I’m not one for superlatives, but to me, it’s complete genius. Th...
So here it goes...the review of all gigs ventured to since 2010. Gulp. It's quite an ask to remember the finer points of gigs that happened years ago, so to be clear - it is retrospective. I'm looking back but with the benefit of hindsight (like the Dodgy comeback at Galtres in 2010 turned out to be anything but a comeback. A comedown, now that's a different story). Why am I doing it? Well, a couple of years ago I made a Christmas gift for my gigging partner of choice, a huge scrapbook filled with photos, setlists, random trivia and inane commentary. The plan was always to recreate a version for myself, but with the arrival of this blog I figured I could write an e-version here. Like a gig time capsule for the future, written in the present, about the past. Sexy stuff. Ubiquitous gig shot. In context, the gigs featured between 2010-2011 would have been a joint version between myself and my close mate (I won't mention names as she's easily embarrassed) ....
North Tees . Stockton . Hartlepool . Darlington . Say these names, and wait for the reaction. Most people think its some kind of post-industrial backwater with nothing going for it than a parmo on a Friday night. The further down you go, the more visible people’s reactions get, horror mixed with curiosity that people still live there. Cracking sea air. Born in Stockton on Tees, fetched up in Hartlepool , I’ll be first in the line to say it can be a nightmare. A few steps in the wrong direction on West View, and you’re in a race to get out before your wheels are sold for scrap. The headlines write themselves - at least one of the towns will be held up every year for having the worst teenage pregnancy, the highest amount of drug use, the worst life expectancy, the worst/best binge drinkers, the lowest employment rate, the highest amount of council tax dodgers and state funders, the highest illiteracy rates or even the town that voted the monkey mascot as mayor. Beneath...
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