Think Before You Speak

I was absolutely delighted when I discovered that both ‘The Good Shoes’ and ‘Peggy Sue and the Pirates’ would be supporting 'The Maccabees’ last night. “I want to see the supports more than the main tonight!” I texted excitedly to a friend.

Needless to say, Peggy Sue and the Pirates are far better suited to small intimate venues than to others. Their ragged beauty can come adrift in vast spaces. The cavernous abyss of venues like the Concorde 2, or the Barfly, serves very few bands well. Their big rooms can accommodate a lot of people, and therein lies their success.

Last night the acoustic Buddy Holly heartbreakers struggled. The charm of their personalities, simple tunes and instantly loveable lyrics, is just too delicate for a venue that reeks of sweat, farts and alcoholic misdemeanours. It hurt me to stand behind a man who continually bad mouthed their performance with short unconstructive criticisms. ‘What a load of shit’, ‘This is god awful’, he grumbled vituperatively. Yes, he was bitterly abusive, wore a long dark coat and reminded me of the Hitler Youth.

“Play ‘Shot of Tuaca’. Play ‘Superman’. Go on. Make this special for me, for them, for everyone.” My thought processes appealed to no one. Instead of being great, Peggy Sue, and her imaginary band of Pirates, were mediocre. This has not altered my great dream of Peggy Sue and the Pirates playing one of my garden festivals. I can’t think of anyone I want to play in a garden of my choice more. Last night was not theirs. Last night was someone else’s. But a garden party could be so, so all Peggy Sue, Peggy Sue, Peggy Sue. Peggy Sue and the Pirates.

The Good Shoes came in their wake. If you haven’t heard ‘Think before you Speak’, it’s an absolute cracker of an album. The words “Like Jack and Jill, but with Heroin” repeatedly circle around my head. I am enamoured by them; seven words that conjure up such vivid images, I find myself compulsively drawn to their simple sequence.

Before they graced the stage, my friend told me that Good Shoes have been dropped by their label. “The new songs are just no good”, he said. I’ve seen Good Shoes live before; as part of the Great Escape two years ago. They weren’t very good live. As a huge fan of the album, and with the passing of two whole years, I remained optimistic. “I hope they play the old songs and no new ones”, I twittered. They didn’t.

Good Shoes had a formula set for the night; old and new songs performed alternately. Their choice was simple and ineffective. The new songs were not instantly loveable, catchy or intriguing, but then the old songs weren’t either. As stated, I wasn’t impressed the first time I saw them. They should have stuck to the old songs; the songs we know and love. They’re that kind of band. You need to know the songs to love them.

Unlike their predecessors, The Maccabees couldn’t put a foot wrong. Playing to a sold out audience in their home town, the crowd was full of high spirits and adoration. The Maccabees, unlike Good Shoes, easily got away with playing one new song after another. While the crowd joyously shouted along to every track from ‘Colour it In’, they listened with unremitting adulation to all others. “Maccabees, Maccabees, Maccabees” came the chant, “We want more. We want more. We want more”. We got more.

At the end of the night, I walked across the road to my friend and his bike. The lyrics working their way around my head remained. “I think I could do better. So arrogant.” Perhaps, the night was won by Good Shoes after all.

I have never been able to establish what my relationship with The Maccabees is. “Perhaps they’re just not dark enough for me”, I said. “They need to go through some hard times”, my friend replied. Neither of us would wish that on anyone.

By the way, I can see no evidence of Good Shoes being dropped by Brille Records. Perhaps that's just a nasty rumour. I can’t say.