Hast thou considered the tetrapod?
So, last Wednesday saw me all cold-y and woeful at a gig. On Thursday I worked at home (mostly to preserve my colleagues from the awful sneezing), and by the evening felt much better.
I mistimed my journey to Shepherds Bush, and got there far too early to meet ChrisC. I took myself to a small cafe near the venue, glanced at the menu, and ordered a "caramello caldo". My Italian is just about up to translating that as "hot caramel", so I was expecting a caramel-y version of hot chocolate.
The following conversation ensued with the man behind the counter. The italics are what I believe he was thinking.
Me: A small caramello caldo, please.
Man: what? Is that something we sell?
Me: *points at menu* caramello caldo
Man: guess we do sell it then. I have literally no idea what it is. Take a seat, I'll bring it over. Let's hope someone else knows how to make it.
There was a lot of conversation in a language I don't speak, but which I translated as "well I've never made one either". Then a nice lady brought me my giant almond biscuit and a big cup. The cup was full of black coffee, with a huge, thick swirl of caramel cream on the top. Not what I was expecting, and very sweet, but actually rather nice. ChrisC turned up and ordered some sort of peculiar pastry which was as big as his head and made out of fresh air and sugar (and the entire bill came to less than five quid, take that Starbucks).
Anyway, when we got into SBE the audience was watching support act The Weather Station in near-silence. They're a Canadian band, gentle and acoustic, who wouldn't be out of place in a folk club. The female singer has a very clear voice, although she sings quietly. Although the audience noisied up a bit as more people arrived, it still remained quiet and attentive enough to listen properly.
Recorded I actually found them rather backgroundy, but live they were quite lovely in a Low Anthem-y sort of way.
The Mountain Goats are a band I was introduced to many moons ago by an ex-colleague. Though they've had a changing line up over the last twenty years, the main singer/songwriter John Darnielle has evolved without ever losing his humour, his darkness or his ability to write songs about the most improbable subjects.
Of course, that's when you have the least idea what the song's about anyway. The most recent album features a lot of songs inspired by professional wrestling (apparently - I didn't get that from listening to it). Onstage, he introduces many songs with a bit of explanation - something I recently criticised Bad Polyanna for doing. But Darnielle's explanations are so entertainingly batshit I'm willing to let him off.
One of my favourite songs - which they didn't do, sadly - is Your Belgian Things. It is a beautiful, sad, expressive song... But really I have no idea what the writer thinks it's about. It doesn't matter.
The Mountain Goats have gone from lo-fi home-recorded cassettes to some truly amazing albums. The Sunset Tree is a perennial favourite round these parts and I'd highly recommend giving it a listen (note that it does contain songs about the singer's abusive childhood, if that's something you'd want to be warned about). I'd rate Transcendental Youth almost as highly.
Anyway. Onstage, they are amazing. They play a capricious programme drawn from their long back catalogue. In the middle of the set, the band goes offstage leaving Darnielle alone with his guitar (up until then he has switched been guitar, piano, and leaping about). The audience realises that this section has no set list, and begins yelling titles. Which is a weird experience, because many of the songs have bizarre titles.
Because the audience (with the possible exception of the lady to my left, who I think had been brought along by her new boyfriend) are Fans. The Mountain Goats don't play all that many gigs in the UK, and people have grabbed their chance, and are standing around in rapt attention. Not everyone knows every song, but by the time the main set closes with This Year everyone is singing and dancing. The three song encore has - after two false starts - my favourite Amy AKA Spent Gladiator 1 (see what I mean about the titles?) and another couple of crowd pleasers.
I'd happily have stayed there for another hour. I still find it amazing that someone can write such incredibly uplifting songs (and perform then with such joy) when they have such miserable or incomprehensible subject matter. Really, this band is awesome and you should all check them out.