crookedshore

Nebraska Revisited

Last night was the opening of the Belfast/Nashville Songwriters Festival and there were several gigs happening around the city.

We went to the Nebraska Revisited one - 10 local singer songwriters each covering a track in sequence from Springsteen's classic 1982 album called, funnily enough...Nebraska and each one introduced by Stuart Bailie. A dark and sombre collection of songs about murder, unemployment, terrifying nightmares, the burden of poverty and living just this side of the law.

Highlights included Ben Glover's intense version of Atlantic City, Matt McGinn's outrageously good version of Open All Night with the virtuoso guitar playing of Colm McClean, Boathouse played State Trooper a la Arcade Fire and Brian Houston ripped into Reason to Believe.

Gives me confidence that Belfast is bursting with musical talent at the minute.

The other thing was how small the city is. We met at the John Hewitt...6 of us, and I spotted some guys from East Belfast there. We dandered round to the OhyeahCentre and then found out that Rachel Austin, a colleague at EBM was on the bill. She did a beautifully fragile version of Highway Patrolman. There to support her were two other former colleagues from EBM. We waited for Mark Houston to join his brother Brian on stage but his flight was late. There were probably enough EBM people about anyway!

Outside afterwards were two guys who are community workers in East Belfast, but we couldn't persuade them to return to the Hewitt. And back there we bumped into DP, a denizen of the John Hewitt in the company of a local poet and screen print artist. The poet later did a bizarre turn on the open mike when the Half-Stoned Cowboys took a break.

It was that kind of a night. And it's why Belfast is a great place.

Springsteen at the Belfast Odyssey, contemporary worship music and singing with the choir

This is a difficult post to write in a way that's not naff. But here goes.

I was at the Odyssey last night for the Springsteen gig. My ears testify most effectively to it, because they're still ringing, not from the sound of the band, but from the singing of the congregation - for that's what we were, and Bruce was the choir master.

Two things  have been reaffirmed for me in a tremendously powerful way.

1. CONGREGATIONAL singing really matters. Not the stuff I'm often required to do in church, in my own private space, but eyes-wide-open-face-raised-look-all-around-me-and-sing-as-loud-as-I-can kinda singing. Honestly, when the opening bars of Badlands began, the crowd roared and sang every word so LOUD that you couldn't hear the Boss. That's not one word of a lie. It was even more extraordinary with Born to Run.

People WANT to sing. Loudly and joyously. I just don't think contemporary worship music does it. And that brings we to my second re-affirmation of the night.

2. We can only sing that way  with songs that journeyed with us through life. Songs that have had time to soak into mind and memory and spirit. Songs that become carriers of our personal history. I've listened to Springsteen's songs since the early '80s. That's 25 years or so of life experience with the same music.

Darkness on the Edge of Town is a freezing cold Portadown in January 2 1984; The River is a stage and a broken string in Royal College of Surgeons of Ireland; Tunnel of Love is 1987 and newly arrived in Belfast; Tom Joad is the birth of my daughter; etc. etc. These songs have travelled with me and they are shared memory with friends.

Significantly the older songs in a Springsteen gig get the biggest reaction, understandably. All sorts of memories are generated with the opening bars. And it was these shared experiences and history that ignited our passions in full-throated singing, including the hugely successful manager of one of our local football teams, who was standing in front of me, who leapt into the air on the opening of Badlands as if his team had won the league again.

Anyway, what I mean to say is that to become truly community events, songs need time to seep into the DNA of a community like Springsteen fans or church congregations. I find that worship leaders simply don't give time to this process in the rush to get to the latest worship hit.

The kind of songs which are robust enough to carry the narrative of a life through all its stages do not have a shelf life. They are not consumer items to be discarded when something newer and shinier comes along.

On my death bed I'll be singing BTR or The Promise or something like that, rather than the worship song that was current between June and December 2007.

Springsteen is the Hot Ticket

 

Need I say it - I'm a serious Bruce fan, since way back in the early 80s. I am the proud, yet secretive, possessor of a ticket for the show in Belfast on 15 December next, which sold out in two and a half minutes and caused the phone-in radio shows to go into meltdown. (Actually, my wife and I managed to get 8 tix*, but you don't say that too often around Belfast for fear of being the victim of gig-rage).

Anyway, tickets for a Dublin gig on 22 May went on sale on Wednesday morning - this time 35,000 of them, sold out in 15 mins. We got ours. When that happened a second gig was announced. It was sold out 20 mins later. At 9.40am a third gig for that same weekend. By 11.30 that morning, all tix for all gigs were sold. Over 100,000 in a couple of hours, setting new records and placing Bruce among the top attractions - like I ever doubted it.

Two things. Firstly, it seems to me that for whatever reason, Springsteen's heartland is now in Europe not the US. He sells out EVERY gig over here, but not back home. As an artist who seems to capture something abiding about the US dream, this is interesting. I wonder is it because of his now overt political stance which has alienated many back home, but which so resonates with the European attitude to global politics and anti-Americanism.

Secondly, I am amazed at the age profile of the fans today. Yes, the grey heads are still there. But now they are joined by youngsters in their early 20s. Last year, Mark and I queued from the wee hours of the morning for tickets for the Seeger gigs. We queued among our own generation. This time round, newspaper reports carried photos of fans half our age. It seems that Bruce has been around soooo long he's coming back round on himself again and meeting a whole new generation. There may now be significant street cred associated with being a long-time fan of this 58 year old.

I can only hope!

*I need to add that all tickets were subsequently moved on to genuine fans or prospective fans who are friends of ours and all for face value. In fact, we probably lost money by not passing on the handling charge in each case.

Springsteen at the Odyssey in Belfast

Well it was a sweat but we made it. Bruce announced only one gig in Ireland and one in London with the result that people were queuing more than 15 hours in advance of the opening of the box office. I'm a fan but not that daft and so it was the lottery of ticketmaster online.

Result: 8 tickets in all! And each one spoken for. I know of nine computers pleading with ticketmaster and only three successful...Adrienne was one and me another. So I'm delighted. I got into the queue at 3 minutes to nine, but a second attempt for more tix was kicked back at 2 mins past. Aiken Promotions home page say the 8,000 tickets were sold out in 5 minutes with 20% of them going south of the border. The phone lines to the Nolan Show and TalkBack were pulsating with angry people who failed to score.

It's concert number 9 for me and the first time to see the E-Streeters indoors.

turn it up, turn it up, turn it up.....

Melancholy Lyrics

Three beautifully melancholic lyrics I’ve heard in the last 24 hours.

1.    Foy Vance from ‘Gabriel and the Vagabond’
“I’m thirty-two and I’ve got this one pair of shoes”

An image of the failed Western image of success. To reach 32 years of age and to be measured by the possession of just one pair of shoes.

2.    Bruce Springsteen from ‘The Promise’
“When the Promise was broken I was far away from home,
Sleeping in the back seat of a borrowed car”

Can alienation be more complete? Let down by broken promises, homeless in a borrowed car.

3.    Lou Reed from ‘Perfect Day’
“Just a perfect day you made me forget myself
I thought I was someone else, someone good

True love on a perfect day, obliterating memory of who I really am and imagining I’m someone good, someone better than I really am.

Ray Lamontagne in Belfast

The Ray Lamontagne gig at the Waterfront in Belfast last night was something unusual. This was the anti-gig. No fireworks, no hype, no 'buy my records', just people playing their music because they are compelled to.

Ray, and his support act Leona Naess showed a startling unwillingness to inhabit the limelight. Leona, whom I confess I had never heard of, despite having at least three albums and a fourth on the way, had the most gorgeous voice. Yet everything else about her spoke of discomfort. She was tall for a start and her long hair fell over her face, but she made no effort to tie it back. She stooped over the microphone as if uncomfortable in her height and wore shoes so flat she might as well have been barefoot.

What was most interesting was her request to the lighting technician to turn the house lights down (it was already dark in the auditorium). When it became obvious that this was impractical, (the late arrivals needed some measure of gloom to get to their seats) she explained that she gets nervous if she can see her audience!

But her music and lyrics were complex and engaging, and made a fan out of me.

Ray, of course is famously reticent. He never said a word for 20 minutes, until the loquacious Irish audience took the matter into it’s own hands. Some guy from high up in the 2,000 strong sell-out crowd shouted to Ray between songs, ‘Hey Ray, remember I met you in the Double Doors in Chicago?’ Ray didn’t hear clearly, or couldn’t understand the accent and asked him to repeat, so he and this disembodied voice began a conversation, in which Lamontagne displayed a nervous and awkward sense of humour.

Yes it was so quiet and concentrated in the auditorium that members of the audience had one-to-one conversations with the stage.

What was also remarkable was that Ray had no spotlight. He and the band were all bathed in a warm orange light all night, and he peered out from two inches of bare flesh between the top of his beard and the fringe of his long hair.

As for the music. Well, he’s brilliant and passionate live. The music of the album Trouble played better overall to my mind. And funnily enough the standout songs were when the rest of the band deserted the scene leaving Ray on his own with the guitar. The intensity of Burn, Jolene and Lesson Learned had me sitting forward in my seat and barely breathing.

The exception was a powerful version of Trouble. When this quiet and shy man threw his head back in the chorus and his voice soared to the ceiling he resembled a great shaggy lion roaring a claim on his territory. When he testified ‘I’ve been saaaaaaved, by a woman’ you believed him.

This was in stark contrast to the quiet between songs, punctuated by load sighs, and whispered OKs. He only rarely spoke, maybe to say thank you, or, after a raucous ‘Three More Days’ explaining he needed to recover his breath.

Having seen Van Morrison in his various moods, you get to know genuine reticence and shyness from sheer rudeness. Ray Lamontagne is painfully and genuinely shy. His songs seemed to finish on the downbeat as if to discourage too much appreciation from the audience. He began and ended the main set on slow songs. He took an age to return for his encore. And he finally left the stage with a series of awkward, geeky waves.

I was left thinking after these performances about the artistic impulse. What must it be like to be impelled in a direction so at odds with your character? In their cases, to write and perform music, yet hate the limelight.

Brian Houston & Foy Vance - spiritual music

Belfast has been a rich source of musical entertainment and spirituality in the last three weeks. Such a change from what this place was like during the dead and dying years of the 80s and early 90s when I was first making my mark in this parts. Before you surf away however, I’m not going to say any more about Springsteen other than to comment that he delivered on both fronts. As expected.

The Sunday after the Seeger Sessions party at the Odyssey Brian Houston played in the Empire. Now I remember Brian from years back when he was playing youth clubs and churches and trying to make the break through. Fourteen or so years later it looks like it has finally happened, deservedly so, with the release of Sugar Queen. It’s a terrificly forthright album which plays well in a live setting

And last Saturday night Foy Vance played in the Black Box. Again, Foy has been around for a few years now, but seems set to break the sonic ceiling. One of his songs, Gabriel and the Vagabond was used on the soundtrack of an episode of Greys Anatomy earlier this year leading to demands for the single in the US. iTunes USA responded and it moved well. Now it’ll be released on 18 December over here, packaged with Indiscriminate Act of Kindness.

(Foy’s was one of the few gigs I have been to recently which I went to on my own. I propped up a wall at the back of the venue, drink in hand, like a sad wino. But I was there for the music man, and imagined myself a music journo!)

One of the things I like about both of these artists is that while they don’t make efforts to hide their faith, they don’t flaunt it either. What they do do so well is tackle the complexity of life in their songs. Brian processes the difficult relationship with his father or his wife’s illness with honesty and integrity. Foy’s song Indiscriminate…deals with a kind act towards a drug addict. No simple solutions, just a recognition of the complexity of life and the imperative of retaining faith in the face of the world. Great stuff.

And one more thing. In an era when every X-Factor wannabe from this side of the pond manages to adopt a pseudo mid-Atlantic twang, both of these guys sing in their own accents.

Check out Gabriel and the Vagabond and the animated video on youtube or on Foy's myspace.

Best of all, buy the music.

Quote of the Night from the Odyssey

Christopher, my eight year old issued quote of the night, after Springsteen's Odyssey concert. On the walk to the car he remarked,

'There was one time Bruce looked like Basil Brush having a fit'.

Brilliant.

If he wasn't inspired for trumpet playing last night there's no hope for him.

Springsteen Says a Worshipful Farewell In Belfast

The Seeger Sessions tour is now over. We attended the opening concert of the European leg back in May In Dublin, and last night the closing concert of the whole tour. The guy just gets better with age and if there is a better horn section in the world, I need to hear them. Every time the brass took centre stage the whole place came alive.

It was a slow start though, the crowd seemed subdued, totally unlike the Dublin crowd back in May which whooped and hollered from the first minute. Belfast started slowly, though this may have something to do with ‘Atlantic City’ as the opener, which would be unfamiliar to those who came upon his music because of the Seeger Sessions album.

I was hoping for, and got ‘For You’ and ‘Blinded by the Light’, utterly unrecognisable from their album versions. But these are just two highlights among many.

We were all left deeply impressed though by the closing set and left the arena wondering at the spirituality at work in Springsteen. Once again, he revealed in a wonderful way the staggeringly moving hymn at the heart of ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’. Some in the crowd were eager to sing along at the first chorus, and were expecting him to break loose into the riot that this song traditionally becomes, but he shushed everyone by saying with a smile ‘I’ll give you all a hint, this is a quiet one’. What we got was worship experience. I wonder do you know the lyrics, written by Louis Armstrong, I think:

We are traveling in the footsteps
Of those who’ve gone before
But we’ll all be reunited (but if we stand reunited)
On a new and sunlit shore (then a new world is in store)

Oh when the saints go marching in
When the saints go marching in
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

And when the sun refuse (begins) to shine
And when the sun refuse (begins) to shine
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

When the moon turns red with blood
When the moon turns red with blood
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

On that hallelujah day
On that hallelujah day
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

Oh when the trumpet sounds the call
Oh when the trumpet sounds the call
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

Some say this world of trouble
Is the only one we need
But I’m waiting for that morning
When the new world is revealed

When the revelation (revolution) comes
When the revelation (revolution) comes
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

When the rich go out and work
When the rich go out and work
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

When the air is pure and clean
When the air is pure and clean
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

When we all have food to eat
When we all have food to eat
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

When our leaders learn to cry
When our leaders learn to cry
Oh lord I want to be in that number
When the saints go marching in

Just beautiful. And haunting.

Then he went straight into ‘This Little Light of Mine’. Seriously! Never in your wildest dreams could you imagine what this plays like, with 10,000 people singing and dancing to the chorus. Surreal and brilliant.

I know I’ve written a lot on worship music on this blog. If only Bruce could attend my church!

Springsteen and Music Rage

Tonight, Bruce Springsteen’s Seeger Sessions will convene in Belfast, and I can see the arena from the window of my office here in East Belfast. At the end of the working day I’ll pick up a boyhood friend who’s flying in from Glasgow, and meet others, including Ade and the kids, at the Odyssey to join the party.

I finished reading Nick Hornby’s book ‘A Long Way Down’ last night, and in typical Hornby fashion he has a reverential riff about music, which he puts in the head of a failed rock musician called JJ.

JJ is ranting about those who don’t understand music and the particular loyalties it creates. The specific cause of the rant is the failure of two other characters to appreciate the work of Nick Drake. JJ wonders whether it would be possible to punch both out at once, but rejects the idea because it would be over all too quickly and they wouldn’t suffer long enough. He would prefer to pummel them after they were down, which would mean doing them one at a time. He describes the strength of his feeling against those who fail to appreciate brilliant musicians in the following way:

‘It’s music rage, which is like road rage, only more righteous. When you get road rage, a tiny part of you knows you’re being a jerk, but when you get music rage, you’re carrying out the will of God, and God wants these people dead.’

Yea, verily Nick Hornby is a prophet.

So, now you know how I feel about Springsteen.

Now you have a term to describe what would happen to you if you ever disrespected him in my presence.

Now I have syndrome to excuse my behaviour.

You have been warned.