The Dandy Warhols
Lupine HowlEdit this event
Is Rock’n’roll all about pretty silhouettes and projections of psychedelic kaleidoscopes? For some it is, I guess. For me it’s all about what is contained within the outlines of the star’s shapes. It’s about a groups creation of an alternative universe where we can wander around to escape from reality into surreality. On record tonight’s headliners do this like their predecessors in the art and rock worlds and they’ll go down as re-writing any quotes about rock as a day-in, day-out existence being at all dead.
Meanwhile, strutting up first tonight are Lupine Howl with former members of Spiritualized who left for whatever reasons… a set which splutters out and bounces around the acoustically challenging venue. It does seem like soundchecks were ditched today. As the set progresses the vocals of Sean Cook begin to take on the indie-punk attitude and texture their album 'Carnivorous Lunar Adventures Of Lupine Howl’ dustily bubbles of. This is a sound lying somewhere between Primal Scream and the Stone Roses, but with more Zeppelin 70’s-cool than any banana-skin loaded peace pipe can create. By the time closer ’Jam That Ate Itself’ begins to explode and fill the building with noisy trails of blue light and smoke, a few Bez-blokes begin to get down in that semi-stagger manner. Guitars ring out and the souls of the room remain patiently waiting…maybe for the new Spiritualized album but probably for The Dandy Warhols.
While gear is shifted(pun not intended), the stale aroma of skunk begins to fill the air, snail trails of beer wander around the floor from the front to the back, people are talking into porcelain telephones (aka being sick) and there are a few bodies awkwardly asleep amongst peoples fag butts, empty glasses and feet… it’s pretty clear whose crowd this is tonight! The set begins at the same speed as the queue for the loo, which isn’t fast, with huuuge gaps between plucks of the stumbling frontman Courtney Taylor’s guitar. It’s pretty clear what’s been going on, especially with between-song chit-chat like “Maaan, I’m so baked. Is anyone else as stoned as us?” The reception to which is an engulfing rage of screams, which would of covered the openers set before the Soundman could see the knobs on his desk.
Then as if this was all an act to lure us into a false sense of consciousness ’Bohemian Like You’ (after a second attempt to find the right key) jumps out like a toddler on a trampoline and sweat begins to pour in the already sweltering Academy. With the crowd in their hand through the greatest hits and a lot of confused faces through the odd gem off ’Dandy’s Rule, Ok!’ a rustle of unease seems to be amongst the crowd. Maybe it’s the heat. Maybe it’s the content of numerous bloodstream’s but it doesn’t seem like 4,000 people enjoying themselves. Perhaps it’s the Mtv-generation of only knowing the singles and paying big-bucks to go to big gigs, rather than getting the albums or perhaps it’s the unnerving demonstration of four dazed yet musically eloquent Warhols “rockin’ on the horse sized pills!”. Highlight of the night was the live version of ’Horse Pills’ with a synth sounding loud enough to be a nuclear warning…perhaps it was, half the crowd would of giggled it off, I’m sure.
A bit too much and maybe not enough? Seemed to be all my brain to say when I left this gig. The mumbled messages versus the big-screen porn during ’Get Off’ the latter seemed to hit harder than the self-defining spiritual manifesto’s from the not-quite-leaving-the-stage-but-describing-it-encore of ‘Godless’. All tonight was missing was some sex….any late offers? Or was that what Zia was hinting at whilst singing all on her own about a daisy on her toe, as the rest of the band collapsed into the arms of supermodels backstage? I’m just too slow-woo-ooh-wooo!
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