Tag: live music

#oneaday Day 978: This Was A Triumph

The other day, Andie rather luckily spotted that Jonathan Coulton was performing a show in Bristol today. We hadn’t “been out” for a little while, so we decided on a whim to grab some tickets and head along to the performance.

I’m extremely glad we did. It was a wonderful experience. I’ve only ever seen videos of JoCo’s shows before, but being there live was even better — particularly as he was also accompanied by his usual companions Paul & Storm, who also acted as the “warm-up” act.

Paul & Storm are the perfect warm-up act. Blending some light-hearted stage comedy with some genuinely amusing songs, they have a wonderful sense of chemistry with one another and with the audience. They can adapt to the mood of the room at a moment’s notice and engage with hecklers faster than any dedicated stand-up I’ve ever seen. Plus their songs are just plain good — and The Captain’s Wife’s Lament always brings a smile to everyone’s face, however long it ends up going on for.

Jonathan Coulton, meanwhile, is a little more understated than the antics of his friends. His songs are often amusing, but in a way that ensures you have to actively listen to the lyrics in order to “get” them. Some of them assume knowledge of certain mathematical and scientific concepts — he does a love song as sung by Pluto’s moon to Pluto, for example, as well as one about the Mandelbrot Set — but he also does a great job of explaining to the audience what his songs are about.

He describes his music as being ’70s-style soft rock, and beautifully encapsulated this in a self-parodying song in which “soft rock” was used as a not-terribly-subtle euphemism. This piece also included a variety of spectacular, seamless and possibly improvised homages to various popular songs

More than being amusing, though, his songs are clever and often quite touching. Even when he’s singing about scientists destroying the world with robot armies, you know that he’s channelling concepts that the audience can relate to — loneliness, alienation, a sense of not fitting in with “normal” society — and that’s what makes him such a beloved performer among the “nerd” community.

While sitting in that venue this evening, listening to the songs and laughing at the silly jokes, I got a very similar feeling to what I felt when I went to PAX a couple of years ago. A sense of “this is for me. This is something I am a part of, and I like being a part of it.” It’s not a feeling I have particularly often, so I relish it when it shows itself. And that, really, is all I could have asked from this show — I’m happy it delivered.

It’s 3:30am now. I should probably get some sleep. (I’m up so late because I was attempting to finish the latest visual novel I’m playing, Deus Machina Demonbane, but it’s just going on and on and on. It’s good though. Watch out for a writeup on Games Are Evil tomorrow.)

#oneaday Day 524: Live and Let Live

The whole “OMG YOU MUST SEE THEM LIVE” argument has never really washed with me. In my admittedly limited experience of going to gigs, the experience of hearing a beloved band (or, in one case, a beloved band of my friends’, and one which I was totally unfamiliar with) performing their best work on stage is infinitely inferior to sitting down, putting their album on your high-falutin’ home theatre setup and cranking up the volume.

For one, the people in charge of the mixing desks at all the gigs I’ve been to felt that the bass should clearly be the highest number, meaning the subtleties of the sound were completely overwhelmed by the WHUBBBB WHUBBB WHUBBBBB of the bass. I know there are people who specifically go in search of music that goes WHUBBBB WHUBBBB WHUBBBB but I’m not sure there’s as much crossover with fans of guitar bands as some sound engineers think.

The other thing is all those bloody other people that are milling around blocking your view, bumping into you and spilling your drinks. You may well give the “oh, it’s all part of the atmosphere” argument here, but, well, I think we’re rapidly establishing that the only kind of atmosphere I’m particularly interested in is one where I can sit in front of the fire with a pipe and listen to some records of the hippity-hop music on my high-fidelity home stereo audio system, preferably with some sort of family-friendly dog or cat sprawled out in front of the fire at the same time.

My attitude towards a lot of live music, I think, is why I’ve never had any interest whatsoever in going to Glastonbury, Reading or any of the other festivals there are. Living out of a tent? Fine, I could do that. Living out of a tent and sharing limited toilet facilities with approximately eleventy bajillion unwashed hippies smoking the crack? (Well, maybe not all of them smoking the crack. Some of them are shooting up heroin.) No thanks. The toilet facilities on my primary school camping trip terrified me enough to not shit for a week (I wouldn’t recommend it — that first shit after a week will 1) be immensely difficult and 2) present you with some of the more unpleasant things that will ever come out of your body) so I shudder to think the effect that Glastonbury would have on my bowels and arse, especially with the quality of the food as it is there.

Perhaps I’m missing the point. I have a feeling that I am, because otherwise that many people wouldn’t converge on Glastonbury year after year and see apparently increasingly-mainstream headline acts (I believe Beyoncé is on as I write this) and mutter to themselves about how it “used to be better”.

Ah well. Live and let live. They have their field full of mud. I have my pixelated tower block simulators and 2D multiplayer Team-Fortress-2-in-aeroplanes joy Altitude (which I discovered tonight — seriously, it’s awesome). I think we’re all happy with our lot. Ish, anyway.

(As an aside, can I just say that this weekend has gone by entirely too quickly for my liking and I’d very much like another one, please. That said, this week I’m expecting to be able to share some exciting news, so perhaps it’s good that this week is starting imminently.)