Barrier wait
Peter bleedin' Gabriel!Bit fretful about bussing it up-and-back to D1 with mere pocketfuls of stuff. You'd think having done so before for The Biff, with pretty good success, I'd have taken it more in my stride, but maybe my worrywartery is escalating in my dotage. Or maybe it was some combination of it being the December season of worrying about travel, the prospects of Aircoach's "set down and pick up in random parts of different streets", the dearer ticket price, and of course the planned rival take on "suitable things to do on International Human Rights Day in central Dublin". Much as I'd liked to have gone to the three special "album nights" the previous weekend in Glasgow by the aforementioned Clyroists, I think had I'd have totally lost it if I'd had to combine those logistically. (As it was, "didn't get the invitation email" rather rendered that consideration moot.) But trip up uneventful, aside from missing my number (2)14 into town (but just waiting for the next one), and failing to buy an "i" in town (I keep trying to do this, and am not sure if I've ever succeeded -- maybe I should establish if anywhere in Cork actually sells that paper sometime...)
However... coming into town, the driver announced the city centre was "closed" (whaaaaat?), and that he'd be dropping us off "around the back of the Four Courts". He assured us this was near a Luas stop. I wasn't even 100% sure which line that was, but somewhat academic as those weren't running either. (Nor was it even the Four Courts stop, if strict accuracy be a concern.) Rather eerie to see normally busy streets (give or take my limited familiarity) filled with only silent, sullenly shuffling pedestrians. Broke my journey with a random pop into a bike shop to ask about large-sized bikes. Source of all the trouble event at the junction with O'Connell Street -- handful of people "blocking" the buses and trams in the middle of the cross. Of course, it being teatime, some of said committed anti-capitalists were in Mickey D's -- one of them with his sign sharing a "priority seating" with him. Brief panic after I discovered I was missing a glove (would be needing that later!), but wonder of wonder, was able to retrace my steps and found it again. Got rather confused about my directions going through the dockslands, but a friendly couple of locals (or local or bephoned enough, at least) kept me right.
Arrived a little after the "doors" time, which had been my "not going to queue in this weather, but still want to get reasonably close to the front" masterplan. While my calculations had factored in that for "age cohort" factors there were likely to be fewer "got to get barrier!" types than your stereotypical alt rawk act, and indeed that the "optimal" standing area would be relatively small, so how bad anyway, was a little surprised at how few people were there, even after a precautionary preliminary visit to the venue's loo. Decided on a spot on the barrier just to the left of the "stage front" proper. Could have equally been pretty much one-back and right in the middle, but as I was going to be there for four hours, a Power Lean seemed like a nice option to have.
PG on stage bang on 8pm! None of yer Axel Rose "too rock and roll to turn up to play" nonsense, I'm happy to say. Though initially only to introduce the opening act, to wit his backing singers, moonlighting. One of them was Linnea Olsson, whose album Ah! I'd heard a couple of years ago. (I'm still not sure if that was on someone's recommendation, or research for some appearance in Cork (that evidently I didn't go to, if so).) Her voice is amazingly good live, it must be said. Still not especially sold on the material. Two of her songs, sandwiched by two of Jennie Abrahamson's, Olsson's cello appearing rather more as additional instrumentation to Abrahamson's plinky-plonkies (I have it on the authority of a certain professional percussionist that's the technical term!) than vice versa. Certainly a pleasant enough opener, and suitably atmospheric. The inevitable scenery-shifting afterwards, but not horribly lengthy. Then the "acoustic amuse-bouche". Initially feared my choice of spot was going to be disasterous: not only was pg on the other side of the stage on the piano (should have seen that one coming, really!), but the cros-stage bank of lighting was pretty much directly at me. That the house lights were up for this bit seemed to compound this (I'm not sure why -- perhaps the those stage lights were themselves brighter to compensate).
Wasn't expecting the transition into "part 2" to be three and a half songs in -- suddenly "Family Snapshot" went from "cosily experimental/rehearsal mode" into full-bore. Also the song I seem to have been most earwormed by since. The quick switch also somewhat finessed my "playing it by ear" strategy on earplugs. There was "performed lighting", five tracked triple boom lights also carrying cameras, which can't help but put one in mind of The War of the Worlds, The Day of the Triffids, and/or Pink Floyd videos. Itreally came into its own in a couple of songs in the middle of this section, with Gabriel lying on the floor surrounded by them for "Darkness", and being pretty convincingly menaced by them in "No Self Control", I think my standout track of the evening.
The "dessert course", a massively calorific one if one buys into his metaphor was announced as such, but I think fairly redundantly given the distinctively of "Red Rain" as an opener, with some brilliantly heavily-handed "red" lighting effects to double-underline the fact. In contrast, several of the other intros really "buried the lede". Granted I'm more familiar with a slightly different running order for So, and I'd not been "revising" for the gig, but I was honestly scratching my head quite a bit at a couple of them before it became clear what we were getting, an odd feeling for an album I'm pretty well-used to. I suppose done partly for that very reason. Peter's alleged "Dad Dancing" was pretty pelvic for Sledgehammer.
JA's big turn on "Don't Give Up". This one's a tough sell, as it's not a favourite of mine as a composition, and Kate Bush's (red?) shoes are some (strictly figuratively) huge ones to fill in purely vocal terms. Her dang good go at it produced a mid-song round of applause, I suppose for pretty much those reasons, but that itself I found something of a distraction. (It seems to be an occupational hazard for this song, though: someone mentioned their favourite version was Paula Cole's, and googling it, it's indeed a very good one, and... same thing happens. Though as was also pointed out, we might have had Shinner O'Connor as a guest appearance, which would have been... topical, but bizarrely so. Much as I also like Sinead as a singer qua.) Couldn't help but wonder what Olsson would have done with it.
More floortime for "Mercy Street". More forceful use of Gabriel girdles on "Big Time", on this occasion more pectoral with lots irono-triumphalist air-punching. The masked lichtarbeiteren were back in force for "We Do What We're Told", the booms lining up to shine as spots on each other, with another doing roving coverage on the band with a camera on a stick. Then, all too soon -- for all they're milking "In Your Eyes" for these days, it was done. Or was it? I honestly wasn't sure if we were getting an encore or not -- he'd be just the perversely purist type not to, after all. ("Back to Front" rather implying you're ending with So, strictly speaking.) But happily we did. Marvellously over the top double-helical descending vocalist-devourer stage effect on "The Tower That Ate People". Spectacularly rousing and crowd-involving closer in the form of "Biko". Over for real.
Just missed a Luas, so decided to walk -- after all, I'd survived a longer one in the other direction. I think this may have given me a little more time to panic over finding the bus stop, worrying if it was the right bus stop, and second-guessing if the protest shenanigans were still diverting things. Happily, no such difficulties. Didn't sleep quite so peacefully as I had on the GoBE coming back from Biffy -- though that had been aided by a more physically vigorous gig and a swift pint after. Day after not feeling too bad -- ears just about working, throat not too raw, ankles not reverting to "pregnant lady" mode.