Sometimes you buy tickets for a gig and then when it comes along, you're not in the mood. When their new album, The Idea of You, came out, it left me initially underwhelmed so my enthusiasm was low plus my wife had made other plans, leaving me with a spare ticket. Should I just punt the pair instead? The gig was sold out so it was likely I could get rid of them.
No, I thought. Go along. You like Admiral Fallow. They are a class act.
So I asked a friend if he wanted a free gig and he accepted, kindly offering to drive us up so I didn't kill him on the journey after a rather intense day at work.
We got there at 7.20pm for doors opening at 7.30pm and were eighth in the queue. Not quite what I had intended (where was everyone?) but we waited, had our Covid passes checked, had our ticket stubs torn off and then our wrists stamped before being allowed entry into the main room. We found a pillar table, downed some soft drinks and had a chinwag until the support act came on.
I'd never heard or heard of Pour Moi. They play Americana (?), no doubt with heartfelt lyrics but I couldn't make out what the bearded main man was signing. All their songs were performed at one of two paces: slow and slower (except for the last number which speeded up to medium). I was disappointed. Poor, indeed. But at least I could see them.
Maybe the sensible ones knew what Pour Moi were like and waited in the bar next door because, by the time Admiral Fallow ambled on stage, the venue was packed. I lost my good view to a young couple, both of whom were as tall as me, only she had thick, long blonde hair, which had the view-blocking power of a bath towel draped over her head. Whenever he closed in for a hug or to rub her back, my viewing angle disappeared. So I entertained myself by imagining how he was really into her but she wasn't into him, then she spoiled my game by reciprocating his affection. Ah, to be young and in love.
Then another group migrated their way into the narrow space between us, a not quite-as-young couple and their Art Garfunkel-lookalike friend (whom I noticed was missing a hand). The bloke chatted frequently to Art about how much he liked the band, ignoring the fact that they were playing during his conversation. How inconsiderate of them! At one point, I even considered broadcasting their chat on Facebook Live as it definitely wasn't private. It was fascinating to watch Art clap with his pint in his mouth or use his phone to take pictures. And good for him. He was certainly proficient at carrying three pints back to his pals midway through the show. Not quite at Paralympian level but close (not that there is a Paralympic event for carrying pints of lager).
Despite my initial reservations (and the crowd in front of me), I still enjoyed listening to the music. Their set contained enough variety between soulful ballads and quick-paced bouncy numbers to hold my interest and the lead singer's banter is always modestly engaging. When the band gathered at the front of the stage for Four Bulbs at the start of the encore, the audience fell appreciatively silent, giving the number a reverence that worked well in the former church venue.
They are a class act indeed.
Setlist
Subbuteo
Sleepwalking
Electric Eyes
The Grand National, 1993
Holding The Strings
The Paper Trench
Evangeline
Dead Against Smoking
Three Weeks
Dragonfly
Guest of the Government
Squealing Pigs
Tuesday Grey
Encore:
Old Balloons
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