Turned Out All White In The End
If it's true that hell is other people then surely Reading Festival is where all the really, really, really bad guys get sent. But if, like the senior detective in some kind of retarded cop show, I'm too old for this shit, then so too surely are New York Dolls. I remember buying a compilation of their first two LPs back in late '77/early '78. They'd already split up by then and this was 26 years ago. True enough, the two surviving members (plus hired help: guitar squeals-on-wheels?) make a decent enough job of performing old classics like 'Trash', but the feeling still remains that sticking such endangered species so low down on the bill at a wet and muddy Reading Festival serves more as humiliation than tribute.
At the other end of the spectrum, The Duke Spirit (over in the Carling Tent) are just starting out on their noisy rock 'n' roll adventure, and the rather spritely Liela Moss is many years away from an Uncut retrospective let alone a zimmer frame. They've only been partially successful to date in transferring the primal energy of their live show to their record releases, but their brand of dirty, druggy psychedelic blues-rock is loud and sexy enough to elicit a lively response from an audience who are probably only partially familiar with the material. Their next single is out at the end of the month, and the debut album will now surface at the beginning of 2005.
So much has happened to Franz Ferdinand since I saw them bottom of the bill on the NME tour back in January, and most of it's been good, so it's little surprise that the Glaswegians have added some spit, polish and razzle-dazzle showmanship to their live show in the intervening period. Dead Kenny likes their album and enjoyed the show but still has a nagging feeling that some crucial element is missing - as we sing along to their tunes, admire their song structures and thrill to their verve, one question remains - where's their soul?
Off to the Radio 1 tent next where Stereolab have brought out their brass section to play. Wasn't so sure about their latest album Margerine Eclipse on first listen, but seven months on its quietly sinister grooves have firmly implanted themselves on my brain and tracks from this record dominate their set. Sexiest sight of the festival so far: Laeticia Sadier grinning wildly stage front as she shakes her tambourine with both hands. Saddest sight: the Radio 1 tent being only about a fifth full for this fine band in full flow. Still, a little bit of personal space doesn't go amiss from time to time on this painfully overcrowded site.
Staying to the end of the Stereolab set means getting separated from my companions for the day and getting to watch Morrissey on my own, which is conceptually just about right I suppose, particularly when he starts the show with a rare live outing of The Smiths' classic 'How Soon Is Now'. From this point on he has the audience eating out of his hand, dissing Radio 1 and the local council, and dedicating 'The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores' to Emmerdale, amidst a crowd-pleasing set where solo numbers like 'Everyday's Like Sunday' and 'Now My Heart Is Full' sound just as good as the old Smiths material. We've damned his new album with faint praise, but Morrissey's performance proved to be the highlight of the day.
And finally, The White Stripes who apologise for missing last year (due to Jack's damaged finger) and say they got a taxi this time. Jack has a little Johnny Depp-esque goatee thing on his face which gives him the demonic charm of a Houdini figure. He certainly needs a good show to help him escape the shackles of his new angry-man reputation following his one-sided pummelling of Jason Von Bondie last year. Good news is The White Stripes deliver - this must be about the fifth time I've seen 'em live, but they still sound fresh and vibrant and Jack's guitar-playing retains the power to halt (human) traffic. So they'd already won me over before their final trump card - a spooky and really rather lovely cover of Yeah Yeah Yeahs' 'Maps' for the encore.
Hmm. Maybe I will come back next year after all.
British readers, please note that highlights from the festival are to be televised on ITV2 tonight and tomorrow night (1st and 2nd, 8pm and post-midnight transmissions, check press for details).
If it's true that hell is other people then surely Reading Festival is where all the really, really, really bad guys get sent. But if, like the senior detective in some kind of retarded cop show, I'm too old for this shit, then so too surely are New York Dolls. I remember buying a compilation of their first two LPs back in late '77/early '78. They'd already split up by then and this was 26 years ago. True enough, the two surviving members (plus hired help: guitar squeals-on-wheels?) make a decent enough job of performing old classics like 'Trash', but the feeling still remains that sticking such endangered species so low down on the bill at a wet and muddy Reading Festival serves more as humiliation than tribute.
At the other end of the spectrum, The Duke Spirit (over in the Carling Tent) are just starting out on their noisy rock 'n' roll adventure, and the rather spritely Liela Moss is many years away from an Uncut retrospective let alone a zimmer frame. They've only been partially successful to date in transferring the primal energy of their live show to their record releases, but their brand of dirty, druggy psychedelic blues-rock is loud and sexy enough to elicit a lively response from an audience who are probably only partially familiar with the material. Their next single is out at the end of the month, and the debut album will now surface at the beginning of 2005.
So much has happened to Franz Ferdinand since I saw them bottom of the bill on the NME tour back in January, and most of it's been good, so it's little surprise that the Glaswegians have added some spit, polish and razzle-dazzle showmanship to their live show in the intervening period. Dead Kenny likes their album and enjoyed the show but still has a nagging feeling that some crucial element is missing - as we sing along to their tunes, admire their song structures and thrill to their verve, one question remains - where's their soul?
Off to the Radio 1 tent next where Stereolab have brought out their brass section to play. Wasn't so sure about their latest album Margerine Eclipse on first listen, but seven months on its quietly sinister grooves have firmly implanted themselves on my brain and tracks from this record dominate their set. Sexiest sight of the festival so far: Laeticia Sadier grinning wildly stage front as she shakes her tambourine with both hands. Saddest sight: the Radio 1 tent being only about a fifth full for this fine band in full flow. Still, a little bit of personal space doesn't go amiss from time to time on this painfully overcrowded site.
Staying to the end of the Stereolab set means getting separated from my companions for the day and getting to watch Morrissey on my own, which is conceptually just about right I suppose, particularly when he starts the show with a rare live outing of The Smiths' classic 'How Soon Is Now'. From this point on he has the audience eating out of his hand, dissing Radio 1 and the local council, and dedicating 'The World Is Full Of Crashing Bores' to Emmerdale, amidst a crowd-pleasing set where solo numbers like 'Everyday's Like Sunday' and 'Now My Heart Is Full' sound just as good as the old Smiths material. We've damned his new album with faint praise, but Morrissey's performance proved to be the highlight of the day.
And finally, The White Stripes who apologise for missing last year (due to Jack's damaged finger) and say they got a taxi this time. Jack has a little Johnny Depp-esque goatee thing on his face which gives him the demonic charm of a Houdini figure. He certainly needs a good show to help him escape the shackles of his new angry-man reputation following his one-sided pummelling of Jason Von Bondie last year. Good news is The White Stripes deliver - this must be about the fifth time I've seen 'em live, but they still sound fresh and vibrant and Jack's guitar-playing retains the power to halt (human) traffic. So they'd already won me over before their final trump card - a spooky and really rather lovely cover of Yeah Yeah Yeahs' 'Maps' for the encore.
Hmm. Maybe I will come back next year after all.
British readers, please note that highlights from the festival are to be televised on ITV2 tonight and tomorrow night (1st and 2nd, 8pm and post-midnight transmissions, check press for details).
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