On Bellamy, Bond and Brothers Ginger...
It's not often enough that you get to witness pure genius at work. Apparently, rather like buses, you can wait a while and then two come along almost at once. The first goes by the name of Matt Bellamy whose three-piece band, Muse, have recently released their fourth studio album. You may have heard of them. You may even like them. If you don't, however, there is something seriously wrong with your auditory faculties. What makes a great band, however, is not how well their albums are produced or how well their songs are written, although in these regards Muse certainly fare significantly better than average. But no, what makes a great band is their ability to entertain a live audience and leave them satisfied yet wanting more. What makes a truly great band is their ability to do it over and over again. It's a good trick which few can successfully pull off. When I saw Muse in 2004 they managed it easily, instantly catapulting their way to number 2 in my list of best live concerts.
Myself and Tom arrived via train from New Street and entered the arena just as the support band, The Noisettes, took to the stage. With their music failing to inspire we headed swiftly to the bar for a little light refreshment. A short while later, after The Noisettes had died down, we made our way into the standing area. We took up position just slightly in front of the sound desk and waited whilst the roadies readied the stage. At five to nine the house lights dimmed, the screams went up and the curtain rose to reveal Matt and Chris with guitars standing to the right of a small spaceship covered in video screens. The stage itself was framed, front and back, with two lighting rigs, themselves illuminated top to bottom in changing light. And thus, the stage was set for an evening of sheer brilliance. As the natural opener, Take a Bow, blared out the spaceship slowly rose to reveal Dominic on the drums.
It's difficult to put into words, as I am discovering, quite how it's all so much better than other live performances. Muse exude an air of self-confidence, bordering on arrogance, which combines well with the sheer majesty of their music to create something special. It's no surprise that whenever anyone is awarding a prize for 'Best Live Act' Muse are almost dead certs to win. They know what they are doing, they know that what they are doing is good, and the audience knows it too. From screeching effects-laden guitar riffs to Rachmaninov-inspired classical piano solos they are a band which is not afraid to experiment and the result is spectacular.
Setlist:
Take a Bow
Hysteria
Map of the Problematique
Butterflies and Hurricanes
Assassin
Plug in Baby
Forced In
Bliss
Sunburn
Hoodoo
Invincible
Supermassive Black Hole
Time Is Running Out
New Born
---
Starlight
Stockholm Syndrome
---
Muscle Museum
Knights of Cydonia
So...just in case I've left you in any doubt, Muse are the best live band for a good number of years. The two concerts of theirs that I have seen are sitting at joint #2 in my list of top concerts, bettering such luminaries as Paul McCartney, Page and Plant, Guns n Roses and contemporaries such as Stereophonics, Feeder and Oasis. All of them well able to put on a show of mind-blowing proportions and all of them failing to live up to the sheer genius that is Muse.
Now, for our second genius, we turn to Daniel Craig. When it was announced that he would be the sixth 'official' James Bond there was a considerable amount of consternation amongst what I always imagine to be a very small and yet very vocal minority. The sane amongst us were all sitting here countering their 'it'll never work's with 'how about we wait and see when, you know, the film actually comes out'. Well...the film is here...
For a long time James Bond has been synonymous with silliness. In an ever-improving haze of special effects and magnificently overblown set-pieces we have lost sight of the essence of James Bond. In Casino Royale, the 21st official Bond Movie, the producers have gone back to the very basics with very good effect.
The story, unashamedly anachronistic as it is, begins in black and white when James Bond makes the first two kills which allow him to be promoted to 00 status. Cue credits which play to the sound of Chris Cornell singing 'You Know My Name'. Thereafter we get to see the newly licensed Bond out in the real world and cockily making the mistakes you might expect a newly promoted agent to do. In this version of the past, however, we have cellphones, suicide bombers and swiss bankers with portable money transfer terminals.
Essentially what we have is a real film which happens to have James Bond in it. Rather than continue down a line of ever-diminishing allure they've thrown the formula book out of the window - hopefully for good - and set about the task of reinventing Bond for a modern world, something which should have been done when Pierce Brosnan first took the role. There is, of course, cheese and self-referential humour. When Bond heads to the bar and orders a Vodka Martini he is inevitably asked 'shaken or stirred?' 'Do I look like I give a damn?' is the reply. Gone are Moneypenny, Q/R and the 'oh how convenient' gadgets and instead we have two and a half hours of action adventure which leaves us in no doubt about how James Bond came to be 007 and, in a particularly cringeworthy torture scene, proof that James Bond is definitely more of a man than anyone in the audience.
But despite the good writing an direction it's the performance of Daniel Craig which sets this Bond in a class above many others. He has perfected the mix of charm and sophistication which Bond requires whilst ably conveying the vulnerability and self-disappointment of a young secret agent who is making his own way in the world. To say 'it'll never work' before the first 'action' has been called is simply ridiculous. To say it hasn't worked now that the movie is released would be just plain wrong. Some actors have played Bond but very few actors have been Bond. Daniel Craig IS Bond.
Our final genius of the week comes to us via SMS from Ed. First a little background. Ed is remarkably good at bumping into 'famous' people. It's usually Villa players, past and present, or other such local celebs. Those of you who know the Harry Potter franchise of movies will be aware of the tall, ginger Phelps twins, Oliver and James who play the tall, ginger Weasley twins. Now, James is a fan of Birmingham City whilst Oliver is a fan of Aston Villa. We see him in the Holte End from time to time, presumably when he's not off filming, and, for reasons known best to us, refer to him as 'Potter'. We've never spoken to him because, well, none of us are all that bothered and Villa Park should be always a place where you can get away from fangirliness for a while.
Anyway, at approximately 2:20am I received the following text from Ed:
'Had a word with potter, he was the villa boy said his brother's a cunt. Brilliant!'
Need I say more? :)
Myself and Tom arrived via train from New Street and entered the arena just as the support band, The Noisettes, took to the stage. With their music failing to inspire we headed swiftly to the bar for a little light refreshment. A short while later, after The Noisettes had died down, we made our way into the standing area. We took up position just slightly in front of the sound desk and waited whilst the roadies readied the stage. At five to nine the house lights dimmed, the screams went up and the curtain rose to reveal Matt and Chris with guitars standing to the right of a small spaceship covered in video screens. The stage itself was framed, front and back, with two lighting rigs, themselves illuminated top to bottom in changing light. And thus, the stage was set for an evening of sheer brilliance. As the natural opener, Take a Bow, blared out the spaceship slowly rose to reveal Dominic on the drums.
It's difficult to put into words, as I am discovering, quite how it's all so much better than other live performances. Muse exude an air of self-confidence, bordering on arrogance, which combines well with the sheer majesty of their music to create something special. It's no surprise that whenever anyone is awarding a prize for 'Best Live Act' Muse are almost dead certs to win. They know what they are doing, they know that what they are doing is good, and the audience knows it too. From screeching effects-laden guitar riffs to Rachmaninov-inspired classical piano solos they are a band which is not afraid to experiment and the result is spectacular.
Setlist:
Take a Bow
Hysteria
Map of the Problematique
Butterflies and Hurricanes
Assassin
Plug in Baby
Forced In
Bliss
Sunburn
Hoodoo
Invincible
Supermassive Black Hole
Time Is Running Out
New Born
---
Starlight
Stockholm Syndrome
---
Muscle Museum
Knights of Cydonia
So...just in case I've left you in any doubt, Muse are the best live band for a good number of years. The two concerts of theirs that I have seen are sitting at joint #2 in my list of top concerts, bettering such luminaries as Paul McCartney, Page and Plant, Guns n Roses and contemporaries such as Stereophonics, Feeder and Oasis. All of them well able to put on a show of mind-blowing proportions and all of them failing to live up to the sheer genius that is Muse.
Now, for our second genius, we turn to Daniel Craig. When it was announced that he would be the sixth 'official' James Bond there was a considerable amount of consternation amongst what I always imagine to be a very small and yet very vocal minority. The sane amongst us were all sitting here countering their 'it'll never work's with 'how about we wait and see when, you know, the film actually comes out'. Well...the film is here...
For a long time James Bond has been synonymous with silliness. In an ever-improving haze of special effects and magnificently overblown set-pieces we have lost sight of the essence of James Bond. In Casino Royale, the 21st official Bond Movie, the producers have gone back to the very basics with very good effect.
The story, unashamedly anachronistic as it is, begins in black and white when James Bond makes the first two kills which allow him to be promoted to 00 status. Cue credits which play to the sound of Chris Cornell singing 'You Know My Name'. Thereafter we get to see the newly licensed Bond out in the real world and cockily making the mistakes you might expect a newly promoted agent to do. In this version of the past, however, we have cellphones, suicide bombers and swiss bankers with portable money transfer terminals.
Essentially what we have is a real film which happens to have James Bond in it. Rather than continue down a line of ever-diminishing allure they've thrown the formula book out of the window - hopefully for good - and set about the task of reinventing Bond for a modern world, something which should have been done when Pierce Brosnan first took the role. There is, of course, cheese and self-referential humour. When Bond heads to the bar and orders a Vodka Martini he is inevitably asked 'shaken or stirred?' 'Do I look like I give a damn?' is the reply. Gone are Moneypenny, Q/R and the 'oh how convenient' gadgets and instead we have two and a half hours of action adventure which leaves us in no doubt about how James Bond came to be 007 and, in a particularly cringeworthy torture scene, proof that James Bond is definitely more of a man than anyone in the audience.
But despite the good writing an direction it's the performance of Daniel Craig which sets this Bond in a class above many others. He has perfected the mix of charm and sophistication which Bond requires whilst ably conveying the vulnerability and self-disappointment of a young secret agent who is making his own way in the world. To say 'it'll never work' before the first 'action' has been called is simply ridiculous. To say it hasn't worked now that the movie is released would be just plain wrong. Some actors have played Bond but very few actors have been Bond. Daniel Craig IS Bond.
Our final genius of the week comes to us via SMS from Ed. First a little background. Ed is remarkably good at bumping into 'famous' people. It's usually Villa players, past and present, or other such local celebs. Those of you who know the Harry Potter franchise of movies will be aware of the tall, ginger Phelps twins, Oliver and James who play the tall, ginger Weasley twins. Now, James is a fan of Birmingham City whilst Oliver is a fan of Aston Villa. We see him in the Holte End from time to time, presumably when he's not off filming, and, for reasons known best to us, refer to him as 'Potter'. We've never spoken to him because, well, none of us are all that bothered and Villa Park should be always a place where you can get away from fangirliness for a while.
Anyway, at approximately 2:20am I received the following text from Ed:
'Had a word with potter, he was the villa boy said his brother's a cunt. Brilliant!'
Need I say more? :)