The plan to punch more and more holes through the sheet between tracks to gradually reveal the band in all their glory was great, but only worked for a bit before the masking tape gave out and the sheet collapsed. Still, Joe 'the one with all the hair out of Sexy Breakfast' Swarbrick seemed to enjoy wearing it as a robe, before sitting in front of the stage swaddled like a babe in the wood, and finally shredding it in a move that, to be frank, I considered tiresomely derivative of the previous Evenings gig. However, I don't mean to give the impression that wastepaper-related antics were the high-point of the (E/e)vening, though. Their tunes were as top as ever, with a few spare Sexy Breakfasteers lending ample keyboard 'n' guitar flourishes. The only disappointment was the audience, who seemed, for the most part, curiously inert. Theorising about this on the way home, cleanskies, pdc and I produced a few hypotheses as to why they might be so unmoved by the eminent danceability of the tunes on offer:
- They were too dumbfounded by the newspaper shenanigans to concentrate.
- They were hardcore fans of the wall-of-sound stylings of the previous two bands, and found the music rather too hooky, pacey and... well... just too damn tuneful for their tastes.
- As hardcore fans of the previous two bands, they were expressing their immense enjoyment of The Evenings in the only way they knew how: standing there nodding a bit.
- They were a just a big bunch of lummoxes (lummoxen?)
- The Evenings, or constituent parts therof, has made enemies of such twisted bitterness that they are willing to pay to go to their gigs and then stand in a big, grumpy, unyielding line just in front of the stage to kill the atmosphere for everyone.
Who can say? Anyway, we twitched and/or gyrated as appropriate throughout, and at least 'Let's Go' seemed to get more people moving a bit. Thoroughly recommended. I must lend you the album (unless you're tinyjo, in which case I must retrieve the album).