Snog / Bleepin J / The IVD: the visual evidence
And for a veritable pheast of photography. Nearly 50 pictures, in fact, from last night at the Gaelic. Thanks should go to Boyas for taking most of the photos of the IVD (obviously I managed to get most of the rest).
Firstly, a bit of synth porn. Dave Foreman played this baby.
The Gaelic looks remarkably different when the lights are on and there's no crowd. Still, the place would soon be full to overflowing with punters... wouldn't it?
The lovely thing about this gig was that I got a proper backstage pass thing, which meant being able to go upstairs to the mezzanine bit and take photos from on high. Here we can see Snog soundchecking, after David Thrussell had finally returned from late-night shopping, having forgotten the power supply for his Macbook and so gone on an urgent shopping trip for a new one.
The IVD. Nothing if not stroppy before showtime.
"Here come the men in black..."
"How do you play this fucking thing again?"
"Why are you asking me, JG?"
"...And the next cunt to request "Thus Spake George" is gunna get glassed."
"Oh hi, Boyas, thanks for interrupting me while I'm trying to make these guys sound good. Here, have my best sound guy face."
I believe they call this "multitasking".
To his horror, Jeff realised the IVD's backing tracks contained nothing but alternate mixes of "A Message For Joe".
As I was saying about looking down from above.
The band's most reliably noisy member.
"Oh fuck, the guts are rumbling... gotta drop one... gotta drop one... ohhhhhhhhh that's better."
Oooh, we are very rock and roll, aren't we, Mr Russell.
I only took this as a test shot to try and get some idea of Morph's visuals for the show. Not until after I'd taken it did I realise Bleepin J Squawkins were actually on stage playing by that time. See how much attention *I* was paying...
"These Bleepin boys are all right, eh?"
"Yeah, not like those characters in the black gear. They just made me feel kind of dirty inside somehow."
I am the VJ, I am what I play...
A couple of IVD fans.
Bleepin performed a new song that night with lyrics that went like this: "Oh, we are Bleepin J Squawkins / And we have more gear than the IVD / And we're not quite as overweight / But James still has better hair than us..."
Alas, Tom Ellard refused to fulfil Jo'h's fantasy of coming to our gig, but we did get Andy Rantzen (along with Rachel, obviously).
This is what the actual backstage area looks like. You may observe my notebook and CD book; this was taken just as Bleepin were finishing and I was about to start my DJ set.
"Look," David Thrussell said, "I don't know these freaks in the cloaks, and I'm embarrassed to be in their presence. I'm kicking them out of the band as soon as this show's over."
As I said, Snog were pretty damned good. I expected them to play more off the new album, but obviously they'd decided that a hits type of show was in order. And it paid off for them big time.
"Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's... some cunt with a camera!"
I did briefly wonder if the IVD should consider a little red number for ourselves like this, but then I realised everyone would flee the venue in horror. And I'd flee the band in even greater horror.
That's slowlight in the orange shirt. Wanted evidence that he did indeed attend an IVD performance at last.
A lovely young couple.
An even lovelier young couple.
This might be my favourite shot from last night, taken just as the band finished playing "Corporate Slave", by which time Thrussell and co had the crowd well and truly on their side. Hell, even the official photographer was rocking out by this time.
Thought it was about time I got a shot of young Mr Foreman by himself.
David Thrussell was constantly on the move, and so surprisingly hard to get a good shot of. This was probably the best one I got.
By this time, things were moving into "it was that sort of night" territory.
A right pair of rock gods.
At the end of the night, people were rocking out to Jeff's DJing/ Never let it be said that people won't dance to music played by the IVD (as long as it's other people's music).
And finally, my best friend and my worst enemy at home: the crew pass (which got me upstairs as I pleased) and the black material for the face mask (which was just fucking infernal).
Firstly, a bit of synth porn. Dave Foreman played this baby.
The Gaelic looks remarkably different when the lights are on and there's no crowd. Still, the place would soon be full to overflowing with punters... wouldn't it?
The lovely thing about this gig was that I got a proper backstage pass thing, which meant being able to go upstairs to the mezzanine bit and take photos from on high. Here we can see Snog soundchecking, after David Thrussell had finally returned from late-night shopping, having forgotten the power supply for his Macbook and so gone on an urgent shopping trip for a new one.
The IVD. Nothing if not stroppy before showtime.
"Here come the men in black..."
"How do you play this fucking thing again?"
"Why are you asking me, JG?"
"...And the next cunt to request "Thus Spake George" is gunna get glassed."
"Oh hi, Boyas, thanks for interrupting me while I'm trying to make these guys sound good. Here, have my best sound guy face."
I believe they call this "multitasking".
To his horror, Jeff realised the IVD's backing tracks contained nothing but alternate mixes of "A Message For Joe".
As I was saying about looking down from above.
The band's most reliably noisy member.
"Oh fuck, the guts are rumbling... gotta drop one... gotta drop one... ohhhhhhhhh that's better."
Oooh, we are very rock and roll, aren't we, Mr Russell.
I only took this as a test shot to try and get some idea of Morph's visuals for the show. Not until after I'd taken it did I realise Bleepin J Squawkins were actually on stage playing by that time. See how much attention *I* was paying...
"These Bleepin boys are all right, eh?"
"Yeah, not like those characters in the black gear. They just made me feel kind of dirty inside somehow."
I am the VJ, I am what I play...
A couple of IVD fans.
Bleepin performed a new song that night with lyrics that went like this: "Oh, we are Bleepin J Squawkins / And we have more gear than the IVD / And we're not quite as overweight / But James still has better hair than us..."
Alas, Tom Ellard refused to fulfil Jo'h's fantasy of coming to our gig, but we did get Andy Rantzen (along with Rachel, obviously).
This is what the actual backstage area looks like. You may observe my notebook and CD book; this was taken just as Bleepin were finishing and I was about to start my DJ set.
"Look," David Thrussell said, "I don't know these freaks in the cloaks, and I'm embarrassed to be in their presence. I'm kicking them out of the band as soon as this show's over."
As I said, Snog were pretty damned good. I expected them to play more off the new album, but obviously they'd decided that a hits type of show was in order. And it paid off for them big time.
"Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! It's... some cunt with a camera!"
I did briefly wonder if the IVD should consider a little red number for ourselves like this, but then I realised everyone would flee the venue in horror. And I'd flee the band in even greater horror.
That's slowlight in the orange shirt. Wanted evidence that he did indeed attend an IVD performance at last.
A lovely young couple.
An even lovelier young couple.
This might be my favourite shot from last night, taken just as the band finished playing "Corporate Slave", by which time Thrussell and co had the crowd well and truly on their side. Hell, even the official photographer was rocking out by this time.
Thought it was about time I got a shot of young Mr Foreman by himself.
David Thrussell was constantly on the move, and so surprisingly hard to get a good shot of. This was probably the best one I got.
By this time, things were moving into "it was that sort of night" territory.
A right pair of rock gods.
At the end of the night, people were rocking out to Jeff's DJing/ Never let it be said that people won't dance to music played by the IVD (as long as it's other people's music).
And finally, my best friend and my worst enemy at home: the crew pass (which got me upstairs as I pleased) and the black material for the face mask (which was just fucking infernal).