WOW!!! Well, after having my mind judiciously blown by “an Audience with the Cope” merely hours before knuckling down to my scribblings, you’re gonna have to excuse me if this comes out like some beatnik neatnik JACK KEROUAC stream of consciousness, dudes.
OK, so here’s the scene. I’m with 150 or so heads in the (relatively) intimate setting of The Half Moon and the Archdrude’s up there under the lights, armed with just three gorgeous, sparkly guitars (check that Double Neck one – whoa!!) and he’s telling us how his wife’s work ethic has placed an implant in his brain that means he’s gonna sing song after song. No messing about, ladies ‘n’ gennulmen.
Of course, what ensues is the first of tonight’s many mind-bendingly brilliant stories ‘tween songs. Jules gives us the low-down on driving down from Dublin today, and he’s seriously hassled by old dears drivin’ REAL slow up ahead. “This is the line of cars…biddy…biddy…old git…biddy…biddy…ME!” It’s hilarious. The fact that it’s followed by a positively apocalyptic “Autogeddon Blues” is simply the icing on the cake.
Early on, Copey’s getting’ down with the wa-wa and his glittery orange 12-string. He follows up with a savage “Jehovahkill” and rides out the fuzzed-up maelstrom of “Upwards At 45 Degrees” before cooling us down a tad with “Soul Desert” and the first of tonight’s gentle, intimate tunes, “I’m Your Daddy.”
Problems could ensue when the organ racked up stage right – “it’s German so it should work” – refuses to splutter into life, but not for such a consummate performer as Cope. OK, fuck you, he shrugs and instead reminds us what a barnstorming album “Peggy Suicide” was, with a double-whammy of “Promised Land” and “Double Vegetation.” Over a decade on, such Eco concerns sound even more prophetic. “Each day we’re closer to the big, bad bayou,” sings Copey. Quite.
Actually, it’s testament to Cope’s staying power that he only rummages through his pre-1990 song bag on three occasions. There’s absolutely no TEARDROP, though we do get a beautifully sung “Greatness And Perfection Of Love”, an amusing “Robert Mitchum” and a metallic “Sunspots” – for which (HUZZAH!!) the double neck guitar comes out to play.
Oh man, that double-neck guitar!! In surely, the night’s absolute highlight, Julian sets it down stage front – “let’s make it like an altar” – and asks us: “Hey, I mean how many plumbers have plungers in glitter red like my double neck, huh? Glitter red, baby!” Then he’s crawling down the steps into the crowd, going deep into the audience. He’s off into face solos, kissing girls (hell, snogging ‘em!) and at one stage asks a punter: “Hey, can I sit down?” Right there, in our midst, he whispers over his radio mic: “OK, now we’ve brought it right down. Now there’s just the air conditioning.” Fantastic.
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Naturally, now the Queen Mum’s gone, he can’t resist a dig, and thus we get the skulking, jazzy grace of “Paranormal In The West Country (Part 1)” ending with the infamous line about getting away from the “INBRED FUCKINGHAM PALACE SCUM.” Too right. Nonetheless, even this gets usurped by the encores, when Julian returns to “Peggy Suicide” for the fabulous after-hours tale of “Las Vegas Basement”. Unfortunately, Julian’s suggestion to “talk over this one, that’s the atmosphere it was written for” is taken all to literally by one bunch of knobheads near me, but even they can’t destroy the power and anger of “Pristeen” that finally sends us out into the night a full two hours after our Wessex-based hero first planted his five-inch platforms squarely on the Half Moon Stage.
Looking amazing in camo gear, breast-length hair and kohl-lidded eyes, JULIAN COPE is a crucial, timely reminder that we let too many of our pop stars away with mediocre murder these days. Even without current (official) product and touting something far removed from a “GREATEST HITS” setlist, he’s a God. Barely through Easter seems a bit premature to be gushing about Gig Of The Year, but dammit, this is gonna take some beating in the year 2002CE.
If he keeps this up, even plumbers are gonna be genuflecting again.
(PHOTOS: KATE FOX)
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