This year's benefit concert for "Shelter" certainly produced an eclectic line up. Perhaps there was even a feeling of trying to cover a few too many ‘demographics’ bearing in mind the very prominent sponsorship by The Guardian and XFM. It’s a fact that XFM has realigned itself over the last few years, shaking off the innovative approach to alternative music that characterised it’s first couple of years. As part of the Capital Radio roster it’s daytime output is bland and formulaic and about as dangerous as Westlife.
We are further reminded of XFM’s part in all this by the compere for the evening, Christian O’Connell. This man is a talentless twat and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. His contribution to the evening consists of getting the crowd to shout ‘fuck off’ into someone’s answer phone. He is a buffoon.
However, it was a line up of quality and lest we forget it’s for a great cause. It is the sight of THE SCISSOR SISTERS that welcomes us into the Astoria at 6.30pm on a cold December Sunday. It is like being transferred to a New York gay club circa. 1982. This is not a bad thing. Their high energy disco glitz is a ray of sunshine onto the dark streets of London town. As they finish off with, sort of hit, ‘Laura’ this reviewer can’t help but think that the world is a better place for bands like the Scissor Sisters.
Poor old MARTINA TOPLEY BIRD is struggling. It started off brightly enough with some rather clever acapella, moving into slight percussive rhythms and Martina and her backing singers swapping harmonies. There is no real evidence of Trickys dark influence at all but rather a feel good soul lite more akin to Lauryn Hill's blander moments. Then the crowd lose interest, the collective attention span comes to a juddering halt and starts having a chat with it’s neighbour. Soon all you can really hear is the sound of the people talking. Martina soldiers on to polite applause but this is not her crowd or time.
It is a GRAHAM COXON crowd: they just don’t know it yet. In one of his first appearances since leaving Blur, he’s a man with a point to prove. In typical fashion he meanders around for the first couple of tunes, staring at the floor, nervously picking at his guitar. His voice is bordering on tuneless. This could end up embarrassing. Then, the band pick up on some invisible sign from their leader and crank it up a gear. Soon they’re in full flight and the sound is reminiscent of all those early 90’s American bands Coxon loves so much. Mission of Burma cover ‘That’s When I Reach For My Revolver’ is the highlight of a hard, abrasive set that ends in a huge squall of feedback. Coxon drops his guitar to the ground, beams a huge grin at the crowd and walks off. Job done.
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McALMONT & BUTLER are next up, bringing their dysfunctional relationship to the masses. They are backed by a three piece horn section and Bernards lone guitar. David McAlmont's voice is as beautiful as ever, filling the Astoria with it’s soothing presence but the rest of the sound is weak. The lack of a rhythm section is most apparent during ‘Yes’ which falls unceremoniously flat.
The buzz around the crowd before THE COOPER TEMPLE CLAUSE tells you who should really be headlining tonight. Surely the Coopers are one of the most under-rated British bands around? Like Primal Scream at their best, a dirty, sleazy gang of miscreants making the most evil noise. The 40 minute set steams through ‘Let’s Kill Music’, ‘Panzer Attack’ and ‘Promises, Promises’ and the sound is heavy and unrelenting. The band are backlit and hell-bent on ripping the Astoria apart. During ‘Blind Pilots’ the crowd almost drown out Ben Gautrey's vocals and the sub-bass intro to ‘Music Box’ is pure Aphex Twin nasty. They leave the crowd begging for more, an all too brief set by a band who are really hitting their stride at the moment.
Next up FRAN HEALY doing an acoustic set. I go to the bar and stay there until I’m sure he’s gone.
THE MUSIC have the dubious honour of wrapping the whole thing up. Having seen the Music a couple of times before I know they are capable of mesmerising performance when allowed to stretch their sound. Robert Harveys voice is a magnificent thing, bending and warping with the music.
Tonight however, perhaps knowing the time limitations, their performance seems lacklustre. They wheel out ‘The People’, ‘Take the Long Road and Walk It’ and ‘Getaway’. The crowd go mildly apeshit but you can’t shake off the feeling they’re cruising. Harvey does his kung fu, acid rave, wanking monkey dance and it’s preposterous and cool all at the same time. The Music are a genuinely exciting young British band and perhaps with a new album to promote they will re-find that extra spark that made them such a good live band in the past. Tonight they were distinctly average.
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