Bulletin 9 - Back to Basics - Ireland 2 - Cork, Greystones, Galway
Last Waltz Bulletin 9 - Back to Basics - Ireland 2
Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights reminded me why it was a good idea to go to Ireland to see Dirty Pretty Things, driving hundreds of miles and surviving on ridiculously small amounts of sleep. Three absolutely brilliant gigs. Hot, sweaty and intimate. Tiny venues, lovely crowds, and a band getting off on the atmosphere as much as the audience. Dirty Pretty Things as they should be seen.
In some ways it’s a shame that Galway, originally scheduled to be the last UK/Irish date of the band’s tour, is now to be followed by a smattering of rescheduled gigs in December. It would have been fitting if the end of the Irish kitchen sink tour, played in the back room of a pub to a couple of hundred enthusiastic fans and capturing the full libertine spirit of chaos and abandon, had been the band’s British Isles swan song.
It was the culmination of three brilliant gigs. Each distinctive, but together forming a perfect set of raucous events that left me grinning from ear to ear. Cork, a return visit to the lovely Cyprus Avenue, was the first of the three. A performance space hardly larger than a postage stamp, fumbled security resulting in an incomplete line of bouncers standing in front of the stage, a furiously played set with no encore break (there was no where for the band to go offstage other than through the crowd), and an escalating frenzy of electricity between band and audience, culminating in ‘I Get Along’. The band didn’t come onstage until gone half eleven (doors weren’t until 9), and the venue stayed open well after the 1am finish. Anthony flung himself into the audience with his guitar still around his neck, and the whole event felt as if pandemonium might break out any second.
The second night, Thursday, was supposed to be Wicklow. So we thought - and apparently, the band did too - but we discovered otherwise after a couple of circuits of tiny, charming Wicklow Town. ‘Greystones Theatre? That’d be in Greystones, up the coast about 25 kilometers,’ a slightly bemused young woman told us when we asked for directions. Greystones made Wicklow Town seem like a booming metropolis. One street, a few shops, restaurants and pubs, and signs to the beach identified the town as a seaside escape for Dubliners. Probably it is quite buzzy in August, but in November it was just little. And quiet. Greystones Theatre has a reputation for marvelous sound, we were proudly informed by one of the staff. The little, wood-lined space was clearly designed for theatre rather than music, but what it lacked in size(with a capacity of 320, including a set of raked seating to one side), it made up for in charm - a small pit in front of the stage surrounded by stepped ledges so it was easy for everyone to get a good view. Only 70 tickets had been sold in advance, and we all were slightly anxious that this might be a bit odd. But the Irish that night once again showed what great audiences they are… the numbers increased to something over 100 by my reckoning, and somehow, with everyone clustered on multiple levels around the stage, the venue came alive when the band appeared on stage. The acoustics were indeed excellent, and the informality of the small numbers translated into another evening of high energy both on and in front of the stage.
And finally, on Friday, over to the lovely west coast for Galway. Another pocket sized stage cutting off a corner of the small-ish room, another audience that can’t have exceeded 200, and another wild, riotous performance culminating with both Anthony (with guitar) and Carl (without) leaping into the crowd and flattening groups of joyous punters as the closing chords of ‘I Get Along’ rang in our ears. The gig was followed by a bit of impromptu alley-way busking from Carl and Didz.
The band have been playing around with their set list for most of the tour, particularly on these three Irish dates - opening with a snippet of ‘Holly Go Lightly’ into ‘Buzzards and Crows’, closing the first set with ‘Gin and Milk’ followed by ‘Deadwood’, and playing a four or five song ‘encore’ set consisting of ‘BURMA’,’ Bang Bang’ and’ You ‘Fucking Love It’ or ‘I Get Along’ (both in Galway), and playing around with the order in between. In Cork they added ‘Tired of England’ and in Greystones and Galway, ‘Truth Begins’ opened the post break set. ‘The Enemy’, which appeared on none of the printed set lists, was added in all three nights at random spots.
These three gigs were the antithesis of the professional shows that DPT put on in larger venues. Sets were adapted on the spur of the moment, Guinness was consumed with enthusiasm, the boys chatted to the audience, bounced against each other and smiles abounded. Although there is a huge irony in the small numbers privileged to experience these magical performances, there is little doubt that the tiny venues and enthusiastic, friendly audiences elicited some of the most electrifying performances that I’ve been to.
Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights reminded me why it was a good idea to go to Ireland to see Dirty Pretty Things, driving hundreds of miles and surviving on ridiculously small amounts of sleep. Three absolutely brilliant gigs. Hot, sweaty and intimate. Tiny venues, lovely crowds, and a band getting off on the atmosphere as much as the audience. Dirty Pretty Things as they should be seen.
In some ways it’s a shame that Galway, originally scheduled to be the last UK/Irish date of the band’s tour, is now to be followed by a smattering of rescheduled gigs in December. It would have been fitting if the end of the Irish kitchen sink tour, played in the back room of a pub to a couple of hundred enthusiastic fans and capturing the full libertine spirit of chaos and abandon, had been the band’s British Isles swan song.
It was the culmination of three brilliant gigs. Each distinctive, but together forming a perfect set of raucous events that left me grinning from ear to ear. Cork, a return visit to the lovely Cyprus Avenue, was the first of the three. A performance space hardly larger than a postage stamp, fumbled security resulting in an incomplete line of bouncers standing in front of the stage, a furiously played set with no encore break (there was no where for the band to go offstage other than through the crowd), and an escalating frenzy of electricity between band and audience, culminating in ‘I Get Along’. The band didn’t come onstage until gone half eleven (doors weren’t until 9), and the venue stayed open well after the 1am finish. Anthony flung himself into the audience with his guitar still around his neck, and the whole event felt as if pandemonium might break out any second.
The second night, Thursday, was supposed to be Wicklow. So we thought - and apparently, the band did too - but we discovered otherwise after a couple of circuits of tiny, charming Wicklow Town. ‘Greystones Theatre? That’d be in Greystones, up the coast about 25 kilometers,’ a slightly bemused young woman told us when we asked for directions. Greystones made Wicklow Town seem like a booming metropolis. One street, a few shops, restaurants and pubs, and signs to the beach identified the town as a seaside escape for Dubliners. Probably it is quite buzzy in August, but in November it was just little. And quiet. Greystones Theatre has a reputation for marvelous sound, we were proudly informed by one of the staff. The little, wood-lined space was clearly designed for theatre rather than music, but what it lacked in size(with a capacity of 320, including a set of raked seating to one side), it made up for in charm - a small pit in front of the stage surrounded by stepped ledges so it was easy for everyone to get a good view. Only 70 tickets had been sold in advance, and we all were slightly anxious that this might be a bit odd. But the Irish that night once again showed what great audiences they are… the numbers increased to something over 100 by my reckoning, and somehow, with everyone clustered on multiple levels around the stage, the venue came alive when the band appeared on stage. The acoustics were indeed excellent, and the informality of the small numbers translated into another evening of high energy both on and in front of the stage.
And finally, on Friday, over to the lovely west coast for Galway. Another pocket sized stage cutting off a corner of the small-ish room, another audience that can’t have exceeded 200, and another wild, riotous performance culminating with both Anthony (with guitar) and Carl (without) leaping into the crowd and flattening groups of joyous punters as the closing chords of ‘I Get Along’ rang in our ears. The gig was followed by a bit of impromptu alley-way busking from Carl and Didz.
The band have been playing around with their set list for most of the tour, particularly on these three Irish dates - opening with a snippet of ‘Holly Go Lightly’ into ‘Buzzards and Crows’, closing the first set with ‘Gin and Milk’ followed by ‘Deadwood’, and playing a four or five song ‘encore’ set consisting of ‘BURMA’,’ Bang Bang’ and’ You ‘Fucking Love It’ or ‘I Get Along’ (both in Galway), and playing around with the order in between. In Cork they added ‘Tired of England’ and in Greystones and Galway, ‘Truth Begins’ opened the post break set. ‘The Enemy’, which appeared on none of the printed set lists, was added in all three nights at random spots.
These three gigs were the antithesis of the professional shows that DPT put on in larger venues. Sets were adapted on the spur of the moment, Guinness was consumed with enthusiasm, the boys chatted to the audience, bounced against each other and smiles abounded. Although there is a huge irony in the small numbers privileged to experience these magical performances, there is little doubt that the tiny venues and enthusiastic, friendly audiences elicited some of the most electrifying performances that I’ve been to.