Wednesday, 6 June 2007

Franz Ferdinand, The Royal We - The Grand Ole Opry, 5th June 2007

I wasn't that fussed about this gig when it was announced. Franz Ferdinand, they're just sooo two years ago now, I didn't even download their last album FFS. It would've been quite cool to go to a new venue mind. Nah stuff it, seen these guys twice already and I need to save the pennies.

Then it happened. I sit idly surfing on a Sunday morning and hear the spdoink of a new email - more spam, how disappointing. Except that this spam is from TicketWeb, and they have a few tickets released at the last minute for the FF gig! A few credit card fraud scams later (what would I possibly want with an AK-47 in Korea??) and here we are, in a teeny-weeny venue to see the biggest band in Scotland strut their stuff close-up. The drink's cheap too. Result!

First up are The Royal We, a band I was fairly excited about seeing live given their excellent myspace track All the Rage and an acquaintance with Wee Patrick the guitaro-keyboardist. I have to say they were a little bit underwhelming. Very good an' all, excellent tunage and a good stage vibe...I just didn't feel anything listening to the music. My own fault for having that epidural in the Grapes Bar on the way there I and learn.

A swift bottle of Newcy Brown is procured just in time for the 'nand taking to the stage. They rip right into one of the songs off the first album (I think it was Jacqueline, didn't take notes so don't go mad if I'm wrong) and soon as they started playing I realised I would've been a fool to miss this gig. The band are on fire, but health and safety remained unaffected as this was metaphorical fire, the best kind in a gig situation. Alex reminds everyone of just how good a frontman he is as he has the entire crowd eating out of his hand all night, one can only hope that he remembered to wash them when he came back from the obligatory pre-gig skitters. Bob does an admirable impression of a bored gigalo while his fingers glide effortlessly along the fretboard. Paul could probably have filled a plastic pint pot or two with the amount of sweat dripping off him. The other guy was good too.

CHAG-A-DANG! Oh, here it comes - that song. Sounded fucking ace too. Shopping for Blood was superb, augmented by a floppy-haired fella who appeared from backstage and pounded Paul's toms to create thunderously tribal rhythm. A few new songs pepper the set, one with a surprisingly sythesisey feel and another raising the roof during the encore. A rather poorly-received anecdode about partying until 6am in Berlin before giving 'an English goodbye' was the only low point, really. The crowd of 250-odd punters dance the evening away underneath the plastic cactii and confederate flags with gay abandon, and I wonder why more 'indie' bands don't play this place.

After just over an hour of playing like their time-ravaged future selves were dreaming about it in flashback form, FF exit the stage, tossing plectrums and setlists towards the grabby hands at the front. Shit, where did David leave his car's scary out there.

here (in French)


Crap sound, mind

1 comment:

Moggieboy said...

Get the full bootleg recordings of both nights by clicking here. Great quality and both support bands as well.