Last night Fi, Werner and I went to see the incomparable Twin Atlantic at the Barfly in Camden. I have to start this post by thanking both my gig buddies for the night for letting me talk them into seeing a band they’d never heard of. From the reaction though, I can pretty much guarantee that they were not sorry that they had agreed to the outing.
We arrived just in time to catch the end of Me My Head’s set. They are definitely a band that warrants more time and attention. They’re channelling a powerful Smithesque 80’s sound with an oddly Placebo-ey feel and vocalist, Charlie Moss, has a voice that you cannot forget. In particular check out upcoming single, Nights On Fire.
In between sets, a lovely young Glaswegian, chap called Colin decided we should be his friends. Since he was absolutely charming, it seemed like a perfectly logical decision to make. However, when his girlfriend reappeared from going for a smoke, she commenced with giving all of us the evils with such malicious intent that in the end poor Colin skulked back off to his corner. I have no idea why she took such a violent dislike to us but her demeanour throughout the entire gig was of desperately wanting to escape. Poor Colin…
Twin Atlantic were, as always, ridiculously epic. Their passion for their music is so tangible that you feel instantly more alive the moment you are in their presence. It is impossible to describe them as anything other than a rock frenzy that is a little bit Biffy, a little KOL, a smidgen of Audioslave and a whole lot of joy. Despite a myriad of technical difficulties that culminated in Sam losing his vocal mic for Crash Land and being forced to continue acapella accompanied by those of us who knew the words, they played with everything they had. Sam has actually shaved and had a haircut and is looking lush, however I think he could still benefit from some serious sandwiches and many large cuddles. Also glad to say all the twitching is back. There was a point where I was convinced he was grinning at me as I sang along. I may or may have been wrong but more about that later. The set ended with a bit of guitar abuse by both Sam and Ross, much to Werner’s chagrin since he seemed to have thought Sam should have given his Fender Strat to him rather than hammering it into the stage. Pics are here… and this is a little bit of the Sam for the laydees.
Werner, Fi and I decided to venture into the downstairs bar for a little indie jamming and we were revving it up to The Cure, Blondie… and well… Bloc Party, when we ran into Sam. Adoration was passed around particularly from me and I mentioned that I had seen them five times, at which point he smiled sweetly at me and said, “I know. I recognise you.” I can’t explain how that touched me. And then he thanked me for bringing new friends to see them. As a serious gig enthusiast, having a member of one of your favourite bands, acknowledging your dedication pretty much tops everything!
Unfortunately I had to leave at 12. Tattoos must be washed so last trains must be caught. Fi and Werner stayed on to party… hope you had an awesome time, kids.