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Holy cannoli, Tunng were blimmin' marvellous on Saturday night. I'll admit I might be a bit biased, given that they're probably one of my top five bands these days1, but they really did play a SUPER-STONKING live show. I'm not sure my review can actually do them justice. As I mentioned in my review of Meltdown last week, I was lucky to have got great seats, so we had a brilliant view of the stage. I was also fortunate to have some great company from woolly, and it turned out to be a fantastic evening all 'round.
Before Tunng came on, there were two support acts; the first up being George Pringle, who was described after her set by woolly as, "a posh, female Mike Skinner" and by me in return as, "a very English, teenage Peaches." Both descriptions should give you an idea of George Pringle's act; spoken word (not rap, not remotely), over heavy laptop/drum machine beats. Unfortunately, the beats in question were overloud and rather boring, which only served to alienate her from the audience. It seemed as though she lacked confidence in her own words, and as a result was unable to prioritise between her words and her backing music. This meant that frequently the lyrics were muffled, but perhaps if the music had even had more of a melody or a hook to catch upon, it might not have mattered. As it was, the music was just headache-inducing, and relentlessly repetitive, which I think was a shame because she had some funny and clever observations to make, when you could actually hear them.
She's also, obviously, very young, which gives her space and scope to improve. This was almost certainly the biggest gig she'd ever played, and just to have been invited to perform at Meltdown is a sign that she has potential, which I think she does. I reckon that once she warms into her role as a performer and gains more confidence in her own words, she could go pretty far indeed. I hope so, actually, because there are so few women successfully working the laptop-derived beats circuit, and it would be brilliant for that particular scene to become less of a sausage-fest. And let's face it, if you're going to take your inspiration from anyone, then to take it from someone like Peaches, who has more balls than most of the men on that scene, means you can't be doing it all wrong!
After that, it was Fujiya & Miyagi, who some readers might remember as being recent hits of the blogosphere for their lovely animated dice video. When they first came on and started playing, I instantly thought of Kraftwerk. I also found myself asking, "are these guys math rock?" because George Pringle's last song had mentioned math rock, and I have to confess I'm not actually sure what it is, exactly. Maybe someone out there can enlighten me -- is it music that combines traditional indie-rock instruments with electronic instruments in a way that isn't electroclash? That's what it seems like it should be, in which case, I think, yes, Fujiya & Miyagi are math rock. (I actually asked this question of woolly, but she didn't know, either.)
To start with, we found them to be completely hilarious because they were so serious that we couldn't tell whether or not they were actually taking the piss. After a while, some of their lyrics gave it away2, because they were so ridiculously cheesy that it was obviously all a very arch, tongue-in-cheek pose, but they very cleverly maintained the utter deadpan moroseness, so that it worked. (That reminded me a lot of Kraftwerk, too.) Musically, they hit the bar somewhere between Joy Division and 808 State, as well as the aforementioned Kraftwerk influence. They sounded quite cold, especially compared to the warm sounds of a band like Tunng, but they were also quite funky and most of the audience were jiggling in their seats. Definitely a band to watch out for!
After a brief interval, where woolly and I shared a rather yummy piece of moist apple-and-thyme cake (yes, thyme, yes, it works), it was on to the main act of the night. To our instant amusement, all five of the male members of the band came onstage wearing hats of one sort or another, though most of these were shed before the third song was finished.
Although they've been gigging for nigh on half a decade, this one was something of a first for the band, as lead singer and main lyricist, Sam Genders explained, "we're a bit nervous tonight, because for the first time in history, all of Tunng's parents are in the audience." Co-singer Becky Jacobs added, "it's just like the Harvest Festival. Except without the tins of soup."
Little jokes and explanations like this are a big part of what make Tunng such a fun band to watch; they like to include the audience in the performance, which generates a wonderful warmth. They're not the type of band who just stand on stage, do their set and disappear (which might, in fact, be part of why I found Fujiya & Miyagi to be quite cold; even though they made me laugh and they made me want to dance, they didn't try to engage with the audience beyond the stage). Tunng outwardly encourage audience participation, whether it's simply conversational banter ("Oh yeah, thanks for reminding me, happy midsummer!"), or handing out small packets of sweets for the audience to shake and rustle as additional percussion during Sweet William.
"It's amazing how quickly you make friends when you buy up all the sweets in the supermarket. I know everyone in the Clapham Asda, now!" Unfortunately, half the audience seemed to be "too cool" to join in for that (and yet those same people would probably quite happily clapped along if exhorted to do so3). I was so busy enjoying the music and the participatory nature of the performance during that song that it wasn't until after the gig that I even recognised the significance of them choosing that particular one (Sweet William. Oh, yeah. Duh).
There were so many moments during the gig that made me love the band even more than I already did. Seeing Becky strut and flounce around the stage with supreme confidence, and remembering how timid she seemed when I first saw them in 2006. Watching co-founder Mike Lindsay pulling ridiculously over-the-top RAWK postures with his acoustic guitar during the playback of the electric guitar samples of Soup ("this is for everyone who grew up listening to Iron Maiden!"); scissor-kicking and leaping and clearly having the MOST FUN EVAR, which was just totally contagious. The way the band quietly introduced their friend on the harp, and then sat cross-legged on the stage watching her while she performed a dark little ditty called Peach Heart. Later, watching her prance around at the back of the stage while the band played without her. Even the obvious mistakes just made me love them more, especially when I knew they were down to nervousness; like Sam attempting to introduce Woodcat [mp3] too early in the setlist, or describing Cans as "new" when it's on the album that came out last summer.
Despite people being "too cool" to rustle sweet wrappers on request, the audience were clearly having as good a time as me -- especially the band's families. The only person who didn't seem to be enjoying herself was (once again!) the woman who was sitting next to me, who didn't look like either a fan of folk or electronica, let alone a band who seem to have been formed from a musical diet largely consisting of The Wicker Man soundtrack and the entire back catalogue of Warp Records. And yes, I know one shouldn't judge by appearances, but she was about the right age to be a parent of someone in the band, and I suspect that's why she was there, because she didn't seem to be enjoying it enough to be a fan. She was the only one, though: the band were clearly having a whale of a time, their families were (mostly) loudly proclaiming their adoration, and everyone else was having a fantastic time, too.
The best part came towards the end of the set, when Mike said, "This is a song about freedom. You can dance if you want, or, y'know, just stamp your feet a lot," and they launched into a rousing version of Bricks, which had half the people in the audience storming the front of the stage for a good old boogie. So much fun! The poor security guys didn't know what to do. I had a great time dancing right at the front of the stage, and my jaw started to ache because I was grinning so hard. They finished their set with an ace stamp-along version of last year's single, Bullets, briefly went off-stage and came back for a one-song encore of Jenny Again, which was perhaps a sad song to finally end with, but despite its dark subject matter, it's still got that element of hopefulness and warmth which permeates all of Tunng's songs, so we all left the venue in a good mood. There are some bands that, once you've seen them you just want to watch them all over again right now, and Tunng are one of those bands.
Post-gig, woolly and I popped into the Royal Festival Hall for a drink or two, coinciding with the crowd emptying out from the George Clinton gig. Apparently, he played for three hours, which starts to get beyond the point when you do get bored, doesn't it? Better to watch a great live show and come away wanting more than to start getting fidgety and bored, I reckon. That kind of thing is enough to put you off a band for life (though it's exactly what I'd expected from George Clinton)!
Shortly after that, the bar got insanely busy and then some band started doing some kind of funk rock jamming on a small stage in the RFH ballroom. We weren't sure if it was Clinton's band still going on while he signed stuff (which he was doing somewhere), or another band entirely, all we knew is that they were way too loud to talk over -- and certainly no Tunng! With the bar still heaving, and the RFH definitely not emptying out even though it was past 11:00pm, we decided to head up to the fifth floor balcony bar, where it would be quieter and we could chat. This led to a funny moment in the lift when we found ourselves trapped in there with half of Tunng and their families as the lift stopped on various floors that nobody had requested. Eventually, we made it to the fifth floor, only to find that both bar and balcony had closed, and the only reason to be up there was if you had a pass into the backstage party in the fifth floor function room. Obviously, we didn't.
However, there were a row of empty seats along the nearby wall, so we perched on a couple of those and continued our conversation, every now and again peering up to see who was coming or going from the function room. Nobody famous, because they were already inside, but all the faces were interesting, if you like that sort of thing, which I do. It was fascinating to watch the body language of hangers-on, as they swaggered past trying to imply they were cooler than we were just because they had a guest pass and we didn't. Both of us surmised that inside, past the partitions, there was probably just a couple of tables with some drinks and some hors d'oeuvres, a flashy light rig, and people standing around chatting. Still, since a party is all about the people who attend, I can't help but be a bit curious to know what Tunng and George Clinton talked about!
We finally left the RFH a while after midnight, and the main bar was still in full-swing, which was a surprise, because I had no idea it was even open that late. Finished off the night with a walk over the eastern Golden Jubilee Bridge, reminiscing about how much we miss the grimy old Hungerford Bridge with its holey concrete, its narrowness, its closer proximity to Charing Cross railway bridge and the noisiness of the trains rattling past. I like the new Jubilee bridges -- I especially like the way they've opened up the westbound view towards Battersea -- but, yeah, I miss the old grimy Hungerford Bridge (which I can't find any photos of for visual comparison). It's kind of hard to explain to anyone who doesn't remember what it was like, or who never had any affection for it, but in a way, it felt like it was mine, much more than the new bridges do. Perhaps because it was one of the first places in central London that I got to know on my own, by my own choice as an adolescent, beyond my own neighbourhood, and it was always my favourite view of London. Like I said, hard to explain.
Anyway, all in all, a fantastic night. One of the best of the year, and I'm predicting this will definitely turn up in my top three gigs at the end of the year4. Although, there's still six months left to decide. Next up? Hopefully Lovebox on the Sunday, if anyone else is interested in joining us.
1In case anyone is interested, my top bands as most played on iTunes/iPod are probably: Tunng, the Broken Family Band, the bird and the bee, Camera Obscura, and Will Oldham, although my LastFM profile says different. It's a bit hard to work it out for sure, given that I recently got a new laptop, and given that I listen to a lot of compilations, so it's also basically a judgement call of what I've been listening to most lately. Maybe I ought to start scrobbling again...
2"Cherry, straw-berry, knickerbocker glory" being one example. "Sock it to me!" also being rather popular.
3See footnotes5 in my last review for my opinions about this. Personally, I think that playing rustly percussion with a packet of sweets is much more interesting, and therefore inherently cooler, than merely clapping along when someone tells you to.
3Prior to Saturday night, my top gig of the year was Kode9 at the Museum of Garden History, which I didn't get to review 'cos I went to it when my old iBook died, but which was fucking awesome.
5Yes, I like footnotes. Apparently I get this from my granny.
