Music makes life worth living. Music is worth living for.
– Andrew WK
So, I had this amazing experience and I need to write about it somewhere, so I’m going to write about it here.
Basically, I went to the Coachella Festival and, in the middle of a weekend of some quite brilliant music, saw one of the best, or at least most affecting, live performances I can ever recall.
Those who pay close attention to matters Bingo Little may already be aware that I am quite keen on an English DJ and Brian Eno protege named Fred Again. He made a couple of great albums during the pandemic and has been playing shows to rave reviews. Plus, he’s already released Lights Out this year, which is wonderful. Advanced word had him as the do not miss act of the entire festival, so I made it my business to be at the Mojave stage early, and down the front.
Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who got the memo, as the crowd stretched right out of the tent and demonstrated a restless energy that unmistakably suggested the expectation of an imminent good time. My assumption was that the show would essentially be a big old dance party, and it seemed I wasn’t alone: I spent a lot of the weekend in big crowds, but I don’t think there was another that was so clearly – ahem – refreshed in advance and ready to go.
The set, however, took me by surprise. I’m familiar with Fred Again’s records: they’re comprised of an even split of massive bangers and low key instrumentals accompanied by field recordings of his friends/people he’s bumped into on the street discussing their experience of lockdown/their mental health. It did not occur to me that the latter would feature much in the live show, and yet they did. Prominently.
Now, it’s my belief that lockdown was a taxing time for nearly all of us, and that most people I know are still at least a little traumatised by the experience. I myself am a fairly happy camper, and most certainly delighted to have my life back again, but I have to recognise that the experience was not without its strains, and that a mark has been left.
As I stood in that tent and listened to this music, which oscillated between addressing, head on and in a manner I don’t believe I’ve seen from any other artist, the trials of the last two years, and then these huge moments of release when everything suddenly ramped up and he had the whole place dancing, I experienced something I don’t think I’ve ever felt from live music before. Simply put: I got right in my feelings and may actually have cried from a strange and overwhelming mix of sadness and joy.
I was particularly taken by Sabrina (I Am A Party), a track built around a snippet of Sabrina Benaim performing her poem “Explaining Depression To My Mother”. I was familiar with the tune, but In a live setting the sample was expanded to pretty much the entire poem, complete with video. Read cold, the poem isn’t massively to my taste, but given the heightened emotions at play it hit like a sledgehammer; a lot of the art of it is in Benaim’s reading, which is performative but fairly arresting.
For the rest, it doesn’t hurt that Fred Again is an unbelievable DJ; suddenly dropping the vocal from Burial’s Archangel into the mix, layering beats over video of Frank Ocean singing Chanel, whipping the crowd to ever greater heights of euphoria. He’s also seemingly a very humble guy – his recent success has largely come from nowhere and he appeared stunned at how many people had shown up for him. His disbelief added another layer of joy, and probably amplified the collective disbelief that this was all actually happening; this moment I’m sure we’d all dreamed of in one way or another since March 2020.
Such a weird experience, and one I can’t imagine being easily replicated – this communal trauma, years without live music, two years without dancing and then this big cathartic shared experience. Strangers hugging, groups of friends punching the air. Saucer-wide eyes and smiles on faces. Music is mad, music is magical. Standing there and feeling a weight lift clean off your shoulders. I waited two years to come to this festival; we bought the tickets in early 2020 and held them even when it wasn’t clear if an event like this would ever be able to happen again, an article of faith that we’d make it through and that there would be good things on the other side. Here was the other side, and it felt fucking fabulous.
By the time the set concluded, with a couple of false endings (to collective dismay) and then sudden shocking restarts (to collective euphoria), we’d seen merry chaos sparked by Marea (We’ve Lost Dancing) (largely built around a stuttering, utterly compulsive beat and a looped sample of Fred’s friend intoning “we’ve lost dancing”) and Billie (Loving Arms) (essentially a cover of eurodance classic Your Loving Arms by Billie Ray Martin). The latter saw dozens of people dancing on shoulders as the crowd became a forest of flailing limbs. When it all finally ended, after 45 far too short minutes, we emerged from the tent to find the sun gently setting, and the universe making total sense for the first time in a long time. Nothing had really changed, of course. People were still catching covid, people are still dying (I’m at a funeral next week), but it’s the gift of music that in less than an hour it can spark that happy delusion that all is exactly as it should be, and that you can take that feeling home with you for a little while at least.
Full “We Lost Dancing” crowd video from Fred Again’s set
byu/Pretty_Good_At_IRL inCoachella
I don’t know where Fred Again will go from here. Probably to a bigger stage, for starters; and maybe that won’t work so well. Maybe his schtick won’t translate to larger venues, maybe its earnestness will pale with time, as lockdown becomes a memory. Maybe this will just be one of those moments in time that came and went, but it will stay with me, on some level, because it was magnificent. And I guess that’s why I wanted to write all of this down here, as I often do when something excites me – because in a month, six months, a year, I’d like to remember exactly how it felt, and that I felt it. And I’d also like to tell you all that if you get a chance to see this guy, you should. And that even if you don’t get that chance, or if he’s not your thing (which, let’s face it, will be the case for most), I hope you get your own moment like this some time soon, where music takes you aback, and comforts and elevates you, all at once.
Also worth mentioning from the festival:
Carly Rae Jepsen – still the most reliably Joy-sparking live act on the planet, and a guaranteed good time.
Idles – lived up to their reputation and then some. Spent a happy hour in the pit and emerged babbling even more nonsense than usual at my thankfully very patient mate. Standing in the middle of the chaos during Danny Nedelko with a dopey bloody grin on my face because music is amazing and it drops liquid magic on people was a total festival highlight.
Run the Jewels – Never going to be anything other than brilliant. I’ve waited 20 years to see El-P live, would say it was worth that.
Phoebe Bridgers – she’s absolutely bloody marvellous, voice of a generation potential. She played pretty much all of Punisher, which – for me – would have justified the total price of admission alone. Think she could easily have headlined.
Big Sean – live hip hop can be hit and miss, but this was some of the best I’ve seen in a long time. Super up for it crowd, incredible staging, and he has some ridiculous tunes (not least Beware and Beserk).
Surf Curse – great (probably Afterword-friendly) band, all dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz with an emerald city backdrop, have some excellent tunes (Disco, Freaks). Singer performed their biggest hit entirely in the crowd and then walked out of the tent, singing to passers by. Also got to see Spider-Man crowd surfing. I thought they were grand.
100 Gecs – absolutely ridiculous band, but so much fun in a live setting, where Money Machine and mememe are undeniable bangers.
Disclosure – the joy of having a dance in the middle of a vast, over-excited crowd while people who are incredibly good at such things make a load of noise that gets everyone stupidly buzzy.
Danny Elfman – I still have no idea what I witnessed here. Came for the Simpsons theme and nightmare before xmas. What the hell is “Oingo Boingo” and why are all the associated visuals pure nightmare fuel?
Caribou – only caught the last 25 mins, but a proper overall highlight. Two live drummers, an amazing vibe, and an incredibly blissed out crowd. Their Can’t Do Without You was maybe the single best thing I heard all weekend.
Dave – not normally a huge fan, but thought he was good, and enjoyed watching him do his pull someone out of the audience for Thiago Silva bit.
Doja Cat – possibly the most insane staging of a pop show I can ever recall seeing; costume changes, giant cgi whales and a live band absolutely shredding. Also enjoyed a brilliant moment where she started playing Tia Tamera and pretty much every single woman in the vicinity where we were standing went absolutely fucking mental and bellowed along. What a tune.
Jamie Xx – predictably brilliant DJ set.
Swedish House Mafia – I had no expectations of this, but there was something quite undeniable about it. They literally just set up these massive extended builds and then deliver huge huge drops, one after another. It’s really very cynical, but it works. As someone said to us later: it’s like listening to Daft Punk if they had sausages for fingers.
In the interests of posterity, acts I missed and would love to have seen:
Peggy Gou
Tokimonsta (looked absolutely nuts as we went past, enormous crowd)
L’Imperatice (reportedly a very good time indeed)
Denzel Curry
Orville Peck
Blessed Madonna/honey Dijon
What to make of it all? That music is good, but live music can be sensational. That it’s a joy to watch an act you would never normally listen to and just catch a vibe from others in the crowd who are loving every moment. That it’s an even deeper joy to be jumping up and down to music that you personally love, sending out your own vibe for others to draft off. That big crowds of happy people are a curative. That two years without all this stuff has only doubled and tripled its value. That music is worth living for.
BL
X
Tiggerlion says
Gosh.
I wish I was young again…
Bingo Little says
I wouldn’t let that stop you, tigger. I’m not (biologically) young myself these days, but there were far older people than me in attendance, and having a great time.
I just told myself that the festival is meant to be for the young and beautiful, and I’m ticking half those boxes, particularly in my mankini and pink, glittery Stetson.
Tiggerlion says
Well. I love Phoebe Bridgers, Disclosure, Caribou, Run The Jewels. Perhaps, I’ll bump into you in the mosh pit soon.
Sewer Robot says
On your wavelength, Bingo.
I gave Fred album of the year last year and while I did keep banging the records, I said at the time it was this live set that knocked the nail in.
As you say, the expanded samples have a bit more power. Dropping when there was a glimmer that Covid claustrophobia might be passing gave me something and the fact there was a deeper story about his partner’s illness gives the words added resonance..
It will be interesting to see what direction he goes from here.
P.S. extremely envious of your first-hand Coachella trip. I stayed up to see Princess Nokia and The Regrettes on YouTube, but many of the acts you mention weren’t on the streams..
Bingo Little says
I hadn’t actually seen this before – so so so good. That Chanel/Morerat mix is straight 🔥. Can also be found here:
https://m.soundcloud.com/joseph-ibrahim/chanel-vs-a-new-error-frank-ocean-moderat-fred-again-mix
I would strongly recommend Coachella to anyone contemplating going. Very clean, very warm, very collegiate. I’ll try to go back soon.
fentonsteve says
I can help with Oingo Boingo – though you’re not really missing much.
Bingo Little says
Half the audience seemed really excited for the Oingo Boingo tracks. The other half, like us, were essentially waiting for the Simpsons and the Nightmare Before Christmas and really weren’t ready for all the shouting and videos of looming, deformed dolls. Halfway through, the girl next to us leaned over and asked “is anyone else really fucking confused?”.
hedgepig says
Bloody marvellous. The Fred videos looked absolutely incredible.
Bingo Little says
🙌🙌🙌
Blue Boy says
Glorious stuff, Bingo, thanks for sharing. I have never heard, or even heard of, Fred Again, but that doesn’t matter. I recognise those transformative things that great live music experienced with other people can do and you’ve captured it brilliantly here. And I also recognise the feeling that the sheer joy, and emotion if it is multiplied infinitely for many people now as we regain those experiences we have misssed for two years, and in our darkest moments, feared we would never get back. Chapeau..
Bingo Little says
There were a lot of bleak moments in lockdown where I imagined being stood watching music in the sunshine, with the whole bastard thing behind me. So good to finally make it to that point.
Dave Ross says
Brilliant Bingo. You convey all the emotions perfectly. It’s made me look forward to *Go West and Paul Young in Basingstoke in May even more than I was already. That moment when Peter Cox gets the whole crowd singing along to King Of Wishful Thinking….
*Is he joking? Is he?
Moose the Mooche says
Will he risk the vest? That is the question.
Bingo Little says
King of Wishful Thinking is an absolute BOP.
Kaisfatdad says
Bless you, Bingo! What a thoroughly enjoyable review!
You never cease to surprise and delight us!
Coach-bloody-Ella! Slightly more exotic than Clacton.
I’m off to explore some of the artists we could have seen if we’d been there…
Doja Cat
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxgmHmCkgCQ
Idles
Surf Curse
Bingo Little says
Cheers KFD. I think you’d have enjoyed this lot – we only caught the very end as we walked by, but everyone was having a great time.
https://youtu.be/1r2QVlGzGrs
Kaisfatdad says
Naturally, I wanted to see what the full line-up looked like, before you started making those difficult choice, Bingo.
To my astonishment, I discovered that ( as far I can understand it), they run the same festival twice on two consecutive weekends!
https://www.coachella.com/
My mind is rather boggled by that. I’m trying to imagine what it would be like to attend the same Roskilde Festival twice in a row. I think the sense of deja-vu would do my head in.
It would of course mean that those really painful clashes could be avoided to some extent.
Here are some artists that Bingo sadly had to miss. That must have hurt.
You were right, Bingo. L’Imperatrice from Paris are right up my street. Here’s some more from them.
TokiMonsta
Denzel Curry
Bingo Little says
Yep – we went on weekend two. Less influencers, better logistics, but way more dust.
Some people do go to both weekends, which must be some experience. I would love to have spent more time investigating artists I didn’t already know, but there was just too much to see. In addition to the ones I listed above we also caught the following;
The Hu
Chelsea Cutler
Harry Styles
Vince Staples
Isaiah Rashad
Arlo Parks
Giveon (amazing R&B)
Holly Humberston
The Weeknd
The most brutal conflict was on the final day, when Jamie Xx played at the same time as Denzel Curry, Jessie Reyez and Fatboy Slim, all of whom I’d have loved to see.
Kaisfatdad says
Somehow it wouldn’t be a good festival without those painful decisions @Bingo Little. My philosophy about Roskilde is that, whatever I choose to see, there will always be something as good, if not even better, going on at the same time somewhere on the site. One tries to make the best choices.
And also of course, invariably one is a festival with friends, so a few compromises have to be made.
This thread has really awoken lots of memories of that whole wacky, tumultuous festival experience. It’s not the same as going to one gig and then going home. You get swept away by it all.
You pop into a tent for a quick listen and stay an hour.
Maggie Rogers seem to be an artist that would have that effect.
Where British artists talk about that career-making Glasto Moment. I’m sure many other bands have the same sort of experience at Coachella.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EG6mml1JyX8
fentonsteve says
“You pop into a tent for a quick listen and stay an hour.”
That’s the thing about festivals – for me, anyway. I went to Glastonbury for ~20 years and can count the number of main stage acts I saw on the fingers of one, well probably both, hand(s). I was always wandering about, discovering something in a tent.
Similarly the year at Reading and stumbled upon Tindersticks, American Music Club and Frank Sidebottom.
Boneshaker says
‘I was always wandering about, discovering something in a tent’.
Afterword t-shirt.
retropath2 says
Bastard Fenton, reminding me I have ticket for Tinersticks at the RFH on Sunday. And a still positive lateral flow test……. (I discovered my love of the band at Glasto in the early 90s. As they played early doors on the Friday before most folk had settled in.)
salwarpe says
A great narrative that really drew me in with its infectious enthusiasm for music. I think you’ll always find an appreciative audience for such tales here.
SteveT says
Love this review even though I know feww of the artists although big fan of Caribou.
I recall a gig at my first visit to South by South West. We went to this small venue to see headliners Was not was.
The act immediately before them were Alabama 3 acoustic. First time I saw and became a massive fan – between the two acts I have never danced with so many complete strangers before and yes live music can be that magical.
Bingo Little says
😘
salwarpe says
checking out the artists in the OP, I forgot – 100 gecs are not entirely new to me – they may not be the most popular act on the AW turntables judging by the reaction to my post last year. I quite like them – this is fun
Bingo Little says
I must have missed this post at the time, otherwise I’d have been straight in with praise for whoever posted Fat Lip, which is one of those songs that has made the full journey from ironic enjoyment to actually this is a bit of a masterpiece.
Re: 100 Gecs, I have a couple of mates who are very into them, but the records aren’t something I’d play very much. They do, however, make a lot more sense live. I still think most music can be enjoyed if you just work out its proper utility.
Re: Charlie XCX, I’m a fan, and I’m not sure she’s a Hyperpop artist – she doesn’t sound enough like ADHD. She is still releasing great tunes though, including this from last year.
Uncle Mick says
A lovely written piece Bingo, one of the reasons I lurk around the Afterword site. If I can just add my experience here.
I`ve been following the artist Natalie McCool for a number of years, described as an alt-pop artist (whatever that means to my 60 year old ears). Last year she released a new album “Memory Girl” which focused on childhood and growing up as a reflection during the lockdown period.
She, however didn`t write a title track but threw out a challenge to her fans to send in stories, pictures and memories as an inspiration for the track. I thought this was worth a go, so sent in my own story.
I`m a twin. Me and my sister were always “the twins” growing up. Most of the pictures in my childhood are of me and my sister. Being of that age your world is 100 yards from your house, so we were always together. When we started (the same) secondary school we drifted completely apart. We had completely different friends, not one being shared between us. When we were the age to go out drinking, I never ever saw her in the same pubs as me despite being in the same town. We hadn`t fallen out, we were just… separate. Our kid finally got married, moved out and on rare occasions I would go round and see her.
One time I went round to find her really ill. Her husband said she had food poisoning, a week later she was in hospital with Ulcerative Colitis, she looked at deaths door. At that point we reconnected as the twins, the shock that I might lose her, my annoying sister who was by my side for the first ten years of my life. Shes fine now, managing her condition. I see her more often and she make me Christmas dinner every year. She can still be annoying though.
I sent this off and thought no more about it until last month when Memory Girl the single was released. I followed the link and before listening, saw the write up, “The one that resonated with me the most was a man’s story about growing up with his twin sister, growing apart, growing together again through life.” Gulp.
I went to see Natalie last Friday in Preston. Standing in front of a performer you admire, who is singing a song about your childhood was a hairstanding, goosebumping experience. I just about held it together. Introducing myself at the merch desk afterwards, Natalie was as delighted to meet her inspiration as I was to meet my childhood chronicler. We hugged and nattered and the world was a better place, even in downtown Preston.
I think I would love the song, ever if it was rubbish as someone has gone to the time and trouble to try and get inside your head and see your life. Its not. Its wonderful and catchy and its been spinning round my head ever since. I bloody love music.
hubert rawlinson says
Bingo’s piece and now this. Wonderful.
SteveT says
I agree – what a great story
Lodestone of Wrongness says
Fabulous! Spine tingling
Kaisfatdad says
What an astonishing, very moving story, Uncle Mick. I am now very curious to listen to Natalie. I became a fan without even hearing a single note!
Bingo certainly got Full House on this thread!
Good for you Mr Little! You’ve blown the cobwebs away and no mistake!
I need a second helping of Surf Curse!
Blue Boy says
Natalie McCool is an impressive young person (from Widnes I think and based in Liverpool) as well as a terrific artist and this is just a fantastic story Mick!
Junior Wells says
Great stuff Uncle Mick , excellent and a great way to emerge from the shadows of lurkerdom.
Moose the Mooche says
Lurkerdom…. Fulham, presumably
fentonsteve says
Is it dusty in here?
My tall chum admits many of his lyrics are snippets of conversations with friends. We joke that, when he runs out of inspiration, he’ll write “My mother-in-law was a crazy Spaniard” for me.
Bingo Little says
Bloody hell, Mick! Sounds like you got what I got, but on steroids. Can’t even imagine how that felt, but thank you so much for sharing it.
Uncle Mick says
Cheers all. It was an…… experience I`m unlikely to forget too soon. Ms McCool is a talented and charming lady. I urge you all to buy her stuff!!
Leedsboy says
That is a copper bottomed, first rate anecdote. You actually have a song written about you. You’re now in a club that include Macca, John Lennon, Warren Beatty and Lloyd Cole. Great post.
Vulpes Vulpes says
This bloody tree pollen. Happens every year around this time. Makes my nose run and my eyes water. You’d think I was deeply affected by a terrific, heart-warming story that has touched me deeply.
Tiggerlion says
Goodness me, Mick. That’s a helluva story and a real banger of a track. You must have been floating on air when you first heard it.
Uncle Mick says
I cant describe the feeligs when I first heard it as my face was rather wet…..
Dave Ross says
@uncle-mick What a story. Thanks for sharing 🙏
Sewer Robot says
GREAT story. What an experience for you..
Boneshaker says
That’s a nice piece of writing @Bingo-Little which strongly captures the experience of live music for many of us on here. I’ll just add my own little tuppence worth.
Like quite a few AW-ers I am of a certain age, and many of the artists that have had the profoundest effect on me were first active in the sixties and seventies. One of the bands that has brought me the most pleasure over many years is The Byrds, both through the music that they produced and through the influence that they had on other bands that I like. Throughout their many incarnations The Byrds were the real deal, but I was too young ever to see them play live.
A number of years ago Roger McGuinn played a series of small venues around the world, many of which were in the UK. Just him, his 12-string Rickenbacker, and a well-rehearsed patter of stories about how it all began. I went to see him at one such venue. There was no trouble getting decent seats – Roger McGuinn was either forgotten about or no longer hip and happening enough to pull in the crowds – so my wife and I got front row seats very close to a small stage. I should add that the context of this seemed very bizarre. McGuinn, Clark, Crosby, Hillman and Clarke were heroes of mine. Their music evoked sunny days and happy times, easy living, West Coast lifestyle, the Sixties and all those life-enhancing things that I’d like to have experienced but didn’t, because I wasn’t there. They had created the soundtrack to much of my life, even though they had long finished creating it by the time it had me under its spell. And now Roger McGuinn, my hero, the man at the centre of it all, was here in the UK, playing those songs on a dark winter evening in a rainy English provincial town.
As if this wasn’t enough, Roger and his wife Camilla were mingling with the crowds before the gig, in a very casual, non-starry eyed kind of way. It was actually possible to stand next to the great man and exchange a few words. He was also planning to be around afterwards to chat and sell some CDs. This was RogerMcGuinn for heaven’s sake! It would be like John Lennon chatting in a bar. Didn’t he have ‘People” to do that for him?
There was no fanfare when the lights went down. McGuinn ambled on stage from behind a curtain carrying his guitar and went straight into strumming the intro to ‘Mr Tambourine Man’. He was feet away from me, touching distance. The set that followed was well-thumbed but no less inspirational for that. Song after song that for me were era-defining fell from that guitar. I was in seventh heaven, the tears frequently pricking the back of my eyelids as one of the heroes that started it all stood feet away and played those songs just for me. There were others there of course. All old and grizzled like myself. In fact I was probably among the youngest. They clapped, cheered and sang along, no doubt each of them locked in a brief moment in time of their own, reminiscing about what that music meant to them.
Music does that more than anything else. It has the ability to transcend time, to transport you back to something better – maybe something that only ever existed in your head, but which is no less real for all that. I met Roger McGuinn briefly after the show – I can’t remember what I said, but it was probably very mundane and tongue-tied and failed to capture in any way all that he and his band’s music meant to me. He came back to the UK several times after that, and I went to see him again, probably 4 times in total. They were all great shows, but nothing quite recaptured the magic of the first one. I often play The Byrds’ albums and all the solo stuff by McGuinn, Clark, Crosby and Hillman. I’ve seen all the documentaries and read all the books about The Byrds and their legacy, the Laurel Canyon scene, the West Coast vibe – the whole deal. But nothing will ever quite live up to the moment when as a late middle-aged man I saw my hero play live for the first time, and he made those songs come alive just for me.
Lodestone of Wrongness says
Bloody hell, this thread is turning out to be one of the best ever!
retropath2 says
I think I saw that McGuinn tour too; he played the short lived Ronnie Scotts B’ham outpost. The most affecting bit was as he described how they/he played around with Tambourine Man, first playing it in Bob’s style, then explaining the changes in rhythm and tempo, and the iconic 12 string motif. Wonderful. Sid Griffin Long Ryders, Coalporters) was the support and was clearly and completely in awe.
Boneshaker says
Yes – Sid Griffin was indeed the support act. McGuinn has told the Tambourine Man story many times, and often repeats it word perfect in interviews. It’s worth hearing every single time.
davebigpicture says
Sid Griffin is playing in Brighton this Saturday and in Brum tonight @retropath2
https://www.sidgriffin.com/tour-dates/
retropath2 says
In truth, he can be a bit dull and worthy. Anyway, I got covid?!
fentonsteve says
Oh balls, Retro, get well soon.
Offspring the Younger (16) also has it, so is confined to his room (not much different, except he doesn’t come downstairs to eat dinner with us). I should be getting my 4th jab invite in the next week or two.
hubert rawlinson says
I would check about your second booster, I had mine two weeks ago (clinically vulnerable) I’d read that they weren’t contacting people so I booked it anyway online.
I had to take a letter saying I was ‘clinically vulnerable ‘ @fentonsteve
mikethep says
I had my second booster and tested positive two days later. Sheer coincidence, no doubt…
Blue Boy says
‘Bloody hell, this thread is turning out to be one of the best ever!’
It really is. There is an Afterword book in this for sure…
Bingo Little says
This is absolutely wonderful, and I think you nailed it entirely with: “maybe something that only ever existed in your head, but which is no less real for all that”. Spot on.
I’ve never seen Roger McGuinn live, but I was frequently told a story by my dad about him and his mates bunking off school, heading down to London, watching the Byrds and ending up in conversation with Gram actual Parsons. My father is not a man known for hyperbole (unlike his son), so I’m fairly certain he wasn’t making it up. I remember hearing the tale as a teenager and realising – to my horror – that the closest I could get to offering a reciprocal brush with greatness at that time was that one of my mates was on pretty good terms with Dodgy. 😂🤦♂️
pawsforthought says
Well if it was good enough for you…
I’ll get my coat
Bingo Little says
Nicely done!
salwarpe says
May not be given such high respect in the musical canon, but Dodgy are great in their way – they made one of my favourite songs ‘One of Those Rivers’ – a beautiful gentle, bittersweet pastoral celebration of life in spite of circumstance. Here’s a pair of thread-suitable quotes from Nigel Clark:
“as a band, we do songs like One Of Those Rivers for times when you are that low, because we really, do believe that music can help”.
“…music is one of the few celebratory things that works, along these lines, even in a non denominational way. It doesn’t matter whether you’re rich or poor. It’s more, `come in, enjoy the gig, celebrate with us’. And pop culture, in Britain now, is our folk culture”.
Jim Cain says
Just had a listen. What a lovely song. Vaguely remember it from having the album in the 90s, but wouldn’t have revisited if you hadn’t said.
Bingo Little says
I have to confess to being a huge fan of Homegrown. Reminds me of a very warm and happy teenage Summer, and I still think there are some lovely vocal harmonies on there. We Are Together is a lovely tune.
Boneshaker says
Cheers Bingo.
Gatz says
If often thought that I get more enjoyment out of a discussion with enjoys music the same way I do than someone who enjoys the same music as me but in a different way. I’d never heard of Fred Again, but I watched the the link Sewer Robot shared above and he’s clearly very good, even if he is unlikely ever to be my sort of thing. But I have more in common with someone who relishes the live moment, the shift in tone, or the utterly appropriate line than someone with the same CD collection who obsesses over labels or cover artists.
Junior Wells says
I used to work in the finance markets and was in Chicago talking to clearing houses. But with a nom de plume like Junior Wells you can imagine what was on my mind. I had plans to go to Checkerboard Lounge but the guy at the hotel, an African American, was actively dissuading me from going. It was a corporate upmarket hotel so maybe he was being overly protective but who knows.
Ok. What are my options? Buddy Guy’s blues bar has Jimmy Witherspoon. I. had heard he had had or needed surgery so I wasnt overly pumped but hey I aint leaving Chicago without a dose of the blues. So up I rocked to a sparsely populated club.
There is a little VIP section fenced off in the stage and who should be there but Buddy himself. I wanted to go and tell him that as a callow 15 year old I saw him and Junior Wells in Melbourne but I lacked the balls.
Anyway the announcement comes over that Jimmy is sick so tonight we have Mr Otis Rush. That’s right the All your Love hitmaker. Mr I Can’t Quit You Baby. He of the Texan hat and those long bended notes.
I arrived around 9 and left around 2.30.
and Otis was still going strong.
Damn right I got the blues.
mikethep says
When I was doing the Greyhound thing in 1966 I fetched up in NYC and decided I wanted to go to the Apollo in Harlem – can’t remember who was on, but it was some legend or other. I was buying some shoes and happened to mention my plan to the salesman (he was black). He looked shocked and said, you really don’t want to go up there, it’s really dangerous for a white boy on his own. Other people in the shop got sucked into the conversation (black and white) and the consensus was that it was a bad idea. So I didn’t go – always regretted it.
Arthur Cowslip says
Excellent post, and I think most people on here can concur with that feeling of music being (at times) the most important thing in the world.
My reaction to this post however, perhaps slightly oddly, is jealousy. I can’t seem to get that same “hit” from live music that you are describing here. Plus I’m so at odds with modern pop music I just can’t find anything I like. I’ve raved about The Avalanches on these pages, which were my “go-to” response for a current act that truly gave me goosebumps, but even they have now gone off on some electro-dream-pop tangent I can’t get on board with. I’m not even going to bother going to see them when they come to Glasgow this year.
I also had a watch of those links posted above to Fred Again stuff. He’s very good at what he does, but I’m not excited enough to explore further.
But (ah,memories) I remember the deep thrills I got in days gone by from discovering new music. Most intense and frequent, of course, in my early twenties, but with proper resurgences every few years after that. I was never a huge fan of live music though. I never really got that bug. In my prime in the early nineties I saw a fair few of the NME/Melody Maker big ticket bands (Suede, The Fall, Oasis, Verve, etc) but only Spiritualized really excited me and gave me that shiver of excitement and transcendence. Maybe The Beta Band slightly later as well.
Listen to me moan. What a grump. I’ll stop there, but yes basically I agree that music can be the most joyous, life affirming thing, and it’s great when you get that feeling. Definitely happening to me less frequently these days though! Now I get more of that feeling from country walks, birdsong and old castles! And I’m still a youngster compared to some of you oldies on here 🙂
Uncle Wheaty says
I agree.
I watched the Fred Again videos/live YouTube and he is excellent at what he does. What he dies isn’t for me though.
For me The Waterboys in 1986 is my peak of live musical excellence that I have never seen bettered.
Arthur Cowslip says
Phew, glad someone agrees with me and I’m not just a little grumpy Nowhere Man in my Nowhere Land.
Boneshaker says
I’m with you too Arthur, particularly on the modern pop music thing. I struggle to get excited about properly modern stuff in the way that many on here do, always feeling it’s never as good as the old. (Kids today, eh, etc.) That’s not to say I don’t get excited about new stuff by new artists – I do, but it’s often in the mould of the old stuff that I already like. Just too bloody old and set in my ways I guess.
Bingo Little says
Genuine, non-snarky observation: if you want to feel good shit you sometimes have to just let yourself feel. Drop the critical faculties, don’t worry about whether it’s any good, just feel it.
When you’re 20, you’re open to the world and to new things. That often changes as you get older, but it doesn’t have to.
One afternoon last year I walked past my kids’ school and saw all the year sixes going utterly fucking batshit in a tent in the playground. The whole thing was moving and all of them were absolutely bellowing along to a familiar piece of music. It looked utterly rad. That piece of music? Never Gonna Give You Up by Rick Astley. Sometimes you just need to collectively decide to make it good.
At Coachella, our policy was to try to get as far in the crowd as possible, no matter who we were seeing. There was only one exception; for logistical reasons, we watched Harry Styles headline from a distance. Now, I love Harry Styles, but I didn’t massively enjoy his set compared to most of the others, largely because I felt like I was appraising it from afar. On the flip side, we saw Holly Humberston pretty much from the barrier, and – while I’d never normally listen to her music – I really enjoyed it. There were people around us singing along and crying their eyes out. I just sort of rode their vibe. I don’t want to appraise music, I just want to feel it.
I guess my point is that you can encounter music lots of different ways, and we have some choice how we make that approach. If you listen to a new record on your todd, comparing it to how you felt the first time you heard Blonde on Blonde when you were 17 and asking where it sits in an imaginary pantheon of classics, you’ll probably be disappointed. But you could decide to listen and meet the thing halfway; don’t worry if it’s “good”, just ask yourself how happy can it make me if I let it. Sort of like life.
I know the above isn’t a wildly popular view, but it’s the truth. I have fucking awful taste in music, but I still love the stuff and I frequently get high as a kite off it, much more so than when I briefly used to believe I had good taste. Good taste is boring and impotent. Good taste is the thief of joy.
On that note, you know what’s an amazing tune? For Your Babies by Simply Red. So good.
hedgepig says
Yeah. I often think that a lot of us, at points, have wanted to be sort of music journalists-manqués more than to just *love* music. I’m guessing we all had a period in our teens / 20s when our friendship group persona was “Music Guy” – which often involved a bit of handing down knowing judgements from behind our High Fidelity counter, being the guy friends run new purchases by and say “oh yeah of COURSE you know it”. For most people, I think that passes by the time you’re in your mid-20s, latest, but it can persist, and I do think even in residual doses it’s a huge barrier to pure enjoyment. The minute you let yourself wonder if a piece of music your feet want to love might be shit, you’ve lost something. You’ve gained something too, but I suspect it’s not a particularly good trade. Taste in art really is wildly overrated. Loving things can’t possibly be.
Lodestone of Wrongness says
Jings, Mr Pig…I’ve been trying to say that on here for years! I salute
Dave Ross says
For Your Babies is extraordinary 🙏
retropath2 says
Yeah, easy to say that, Bing, what are the chances of being seen at Coachella dancing to popular chart music? None, but, over here, I couldn’t risk the ignominy of being caught even listening to anything off the approved list.
Sewer Robot says
..and that’s why I never go down ‘t disco without me Jessie Rae helmet on..
Arthur Cowslip says
Yes, to a point… You seem to be talking about communal, joyous experiences and yes, I have experienced those (believe it or not :)). In Scotland, it’s a modern tradition to finish a wedding with a big singalong to Runrig’s version of Loch Lomond. Yes, I hate Runrig and I hate that song, but, yes, it’s also fun and a nice experience. We even had this at my own wedding!
But with those things I remember the experience first and the music second. The music that has really stuck with me and has touched my soul has been a thing in itself, not relying on communal experience to be important in itself.
I’ve jokingly called myself a music snob on these pages before, but I really don’t think I am. I know what I like and I don’t pretend to like something for its cultural importance or sense of cool. Unless I’m deluding myself?
Bingo Little says
I guess what I was referring to is more the “discovering new music” thing, and getting the buzz from it that you used to. Obviously the live stuff is different.
I basically wasted a load of words when I might more simply have made the observation that you’d probably enjoy birdsong a lot less if every time you heard it you asked yourself the question “is this any good?”.
Anyway, feel free to disregard; it’s entirely up to you how you listen to/interact with music, each to their own.
Diddley Farquar says
The production on birdsong today is terrible though, all that autotune. Listen to the blackbird on The Beatles song. Such a warm sound. They nailed it there. 1968 really is the greatest year for birdsong.
fentonsteve says
Today’s tea-meet-keyboard moment. Well done, Diddley.
Arthur Cowslip says
“I basically wasted a load of words when I might more simply have made the observation that you’d probably enjoy birdsong a lot less if every time you heard it you asked yourself the question “is this any good?”.”
Ha! Love it.
Freddy Steady says
My last gig, Sparks in Manchester left me with pretty much a feeling of euphoria. Possibly a combination of no decent gigs for a few years but also the performance and joy de vivre of the brothers (and their band) and the love for them from the audience (Apart from the fuckwit from Middlesbrough .)
Uncle Mick says
That was my last gig before Natalie McCool, so as I told her, the bar had been raised to quite a high level. Two nights before in Leeds to see Nick Lowe ( I know, i`ve been spoilt), there was a huge queue of them there young people attending the O2. We asked one whippersnapper who they were going to see and were given th reply Bad Boys Chiller Crew ( No me neither) but if I was 15….. Bless them
Kaisfatdad says
What a discovery! Bradford’ Finest! The Bad Boy Chiller Crew are great fun.
Not that I’d chose them before Nick Lowe of course!
Hot Cider says
Thank you Bingo Little, Uncle Mick, Boneshaker and others.
Great stuff.
Kaisfatdad says
If you want to dip into all the many artists that were playing at Coachella, you may enjoy this.
It is very varied. I’d have been tempted by Arooj Aftab.
What IS she wearing? I suspect even our dear Mr Little was not so utterly sartorially Out There!
Here she is at The Tennessee Theatre, Knoxville.
At The Big Ears Festival! Who’d have thought Noddy’s pal wold become cult over in the US?
Kaisfatdad says
Listening to that Spotify playlist I discovered Purple Disco Machine
.
I would not have missed them for the world.
Not a band who do things by halves!
Dave Ross says
Music makes life worth living says the thread title. Bingo’s post describes a very specific way music made his life worth living for one incredible weekend. More posts have followed which are very specific again. That’s the point really isn’t it? I’ve got a gig in Twickenham this weekend with Nick Heyward and Gary Crowley. I really have got Go West supported by Paul Young at the end if May. There will be moments that are very specifically for me in both gigs. My hobby of writing about music also gives my life meaning and among many other things makes life worth living. You all know how the music of Del Amitri went beyond even that during a difficult time in my life. So it doesn’t have to be new, or cool or popular it’s how it makes you feel and in some small way makes your life worth living. Music. Bloody hell…
Kaisfatdad says
Excellent post, Dave. Nail on the head!
It probably is that much better when it is not “new, or cool or popular “. Then it will be a more unique, personal thing.
Bingo Little says
Managed to find this professional video of the full set from Fred Again.
https://m.bilibili.com/video/BV1gu411y7eX
Would recommend to anyone who might possibly enjoy something of this type. Gets incredible from about 28 mins in.
Sewer Robot says
Excellent! Great find, you beautiful man.
*WAITAMINNIT!!!!* He’s wearing a waistcoat – I’m out.
Lodestone of Wrongness says
See, I have no reference to this whatsoever. I’m transfixed by the music and horrified by the audience. I’m appalled by the lack of guitars and the abundance of computers. It’s like I’m watching a very bad, indulgent movie. And yet if I was there I’d be the old guy at the back bopping away. Horrifying, terrifying and so far away from anything I recognise it’s scary. Think I’ll go back to my room and play some Steely Dan
Kaisfatdad says
“I’m appalled by the lack of guitars and the abundance of computers.”
Great quote Retro. It hits the generation gap on the head. For my 19 year old son, guitars are about as antiquated and redundant as theorbos, hurdy gurdies, harpsichords and sackbuts were when I was his age.
For a musician to have a musical instrument on stage, would be as odd for him as someone riding around on a horse.
salwarpe says
Retro?
retropath2 says
Retro?
Here’s one I made earlier…..
Kaisfatdad says
My apologies, Lodestone. I can’t understand how I mixed you two up.
Bingo Little says
Retro?
Lodestone of Wrongness says
Retro is my Brother In Arms. He is bright, intelligent and witty. Just like me…
salwarpe says
I was going to post that Tricky video, well actually this one, because – live music –
until I found the WEST Wing quote, which I just loved.
Is now the appropriate moment to post some Dire Straits? Maybe not – ‘I’ve witnessed your suffering’.
MC Escher says
It’s gone now. Boo and furthermore hiss.
Kaisfatdad says
It’s International Dance Day. That calls for a celebration. Here’s Stromae giving it some welly.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFOhBwwFibM