Fergal drew the Low card, the implications of which can be seen here.
I caught TGC's first gig since completing their much-antipated début LP (the lauch party for which takes place at Whelan'*s on September 6th, per the lads themselves). In the words of their own website's blurb: 'thank fuck for the Gorgeous Colours'. Seven songs of rich, sophisticated indie-pop were performed with genuine passion and panache- in Geoffrey McArdle they have a lead capable of carving out his own style and direction against an incresingly homogenous Dublin backdrop. The jagged chimes of Hunting Something grabs the attention at once, while the irresistable Burning ensures that it is never lost. Their sound will travel too; sharp americana set against quirky, scally vocals is something that A&R folks will not be hearing every night.Latest single 'Holy Moley' is available to download for free here. We await September like giddy schoolgirls.
On to Saturday, then, where our breakthrough cloning efforts came to their sorry end, thus forcing BTBW to miss Sub Pop's hugely (and deservedly) hyped Fleet Foxes perform at Whelan's. Be prepared to hear much I-was-at-Fleet-Foxes-in-Whelan's-ism over the coming weeks, if reports are to be believed. Word has it they'll be touring their eponymous debut record round these parts again come September.
In the above's stead (and indeed Uncle Leonard's), we just couldn’t resist the Future Days line-up at Vicar St. What fun! It was one of those life-affirming nights that tells you everything is going to be OK. Friday’s antics resulted in our shameful boycotting of the wonderful Deerhunter and White Williams in order to maximise recovery-booze time. Our guilt was soon forgotten as the towering illuminated skull accompanying Baltimore ringleader Dan Deacon was set up at crowd level, along with his table of goodies, and the fun began.
Right from his initial “Shut up, everybody SHUT UP!!” we were giggling incessantly. Deacon had us down on our knees, running around Vicar St in a giant circle, and stumbling through a human gauntlet that went out by the bar and back into the main arena via the emergency exit, all to the tune of his unique brand of psychedelic electronica. It was mayhem – real playschool stuff, made all the better by the crowd’s wholehearted participation in the lunacy (save for a few gimps commenting here). The show was wrapped-up, as only it could be, by the seminal Wham City. Here's someone else's video:
And so for the main event: a first Dublin headliner for Richie Jape (who's rivalling White Williams for ironic-genre-on-their-myspace-page of the year '08) since the release of his acclaimed Ritual record. “We were shitting it during Dan Deacon,” he says, “How could we follow that?” He need not have worried. An even-more-wired-than-usual Egan thundered through his set, his captivated followers bouncing along to I Was A Man, Christopher and Anthony and Floating with a giddy fervour. It was inevitable that the night’s highlight occurred to the backdrop of Egan’s quirkily poignant ode to Phil Lynott** when, as the crowd bellowed the title back stage-bound, he flicked a switch, unleashed some belting electro, and executed an excellently judged crowd-surf, moving around in a perfect arc and returning expertly back onto the stage. Rockers take note. This may be the beginning of something big for the Crumliner.
Crippling inertia was our excuse for missing Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy on the Sunday – we are reliably informed that the bearded one didn’t disappoint. Kudos to Leagues O’Toole and all at Future Days / Foggy Notions for providing a weekend of great music for no more than €22.50 a pop. Bring on FD 2009...
*This apostrophe is ominously omitted from the facade of said pub. Fools.
**The line "And all the rockers said... Look at the fucking moon" is our favourite thing in the world at the minute.
***We also missed Lykke Li in the Sugar Club on Thursday. Elaine says she was 'mehzin. Now.
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