Tag Archives: Gigs

Ozric Tentacles at Oran Mor

The Venue at Oran Mor isn’t my favourite gig. It’s always noisy. Whether this is down to the acoustics of the place or the clientele, I’m not sure, but wherever I stand in the place there’s always an unreasonable amount of chatter radiating from the bar area. Tonight’s no different!

Ozric Tentacles have actually been around for thirty years (there’s a clue in that this is the 30th Anniversary Tour).
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Tonight, we, the Prog IV again, are back to full audient strength. We rendezvous with The Professor, WA and Mrs Bed – none of whom are gigging but just ‘meeting up’ to be sociable in The Curlers Rest beforehand and enjoy their considerably overpriced Sierra Nevada Pale Ale (Bill tells me later that the round that he bought was thirty seven quid for seven drinks, ouch!)

At Oran Mor, the music is, as expected, that curious blend of hippy/techno Bristol dance stuff. I was disappointed I hadn’t packed my glo-sticks! Meanwhile a psychedelic, fractal, paisley pattern screensaver was given free reign to scorch our retinas from the large backdrop projector.
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Occasionally, they wore their influences on their sleeves (Gong, Hillage, David Gilmour) but after a while I found every tune melding into the next. This could well have had much more to do with my sobriety, having attended a colleague’s retiral lunch before meeting the rest in The Curlers, rather than the quality of the music!

Taking Stock!

Taking Stock!

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A slight conflict for my birthday evening celebrations. Did I go along with my gut feeling and go to Candleriggs to experience Stockhausen’s Kontakte and watch someone battering seven shades of shite out of a piano OR cave in and take Shields to see Simple Minds and Ultravox at the Hydro, the latter being her choice? The thought of spending the rest of my life looking at myself in the shaving mirror every morning and knowing that I’d celebrated my sixtieth birthday at some Eighties Cheesefest quickly swung the decision. I pulled rank and The Fruitmarket got our hard earned readies.

A couple of hundred of us, I guess, (we had tickets 179 & 180), sat down cabaret style in the rather cavernous Old Fruitmarket. The stage had a piano to the left and a well stocked percussion station to the right.

To set the mood to begin with, we got ‘Klavierstuck’ which is a solo piano piece. As a child I was often left alone in a room with only a piano to keep me company. For amusement I would occasionally depress the pedals and hit as many keys at the bottom and top of the keyboard as possible, in order to see how much noise I could make and sustain and listen to it decay away to almost (but never quite) silence. The results were not dissimilar to this evening’s Klavierstuck except the young me, unlike Nicolas Hodges, never enjoyed having someone sitting at my side turning the pages of the score. For much of the time he was playing the keyboard with his forearms.

In a different room I could, and would, literally pull out all the stops on a harmonium but that’s another story for another day!!!

The fact that I knew my gig buddy was not enjoying this one little bit, probably skewed my perception tonight. The shortest of intervals allowed us to take stock as the percussion was laid out taking up the majority of the stage.

Percussionist Colin Currie, then joined and the two of them set up a dialogue, or should that be trialogue, with sound engineer Sean Williams.

The results in ‘wraparound, three sixty, quadrophonic or whatever you want to call it sound’ of Kontakte was absolutely fascinating and engaging in all the ways the Klavierstuck piece wasn’t. The sound appeared to be coming through some fairly basic klaxon style PA horns but I didn’t actually check that when the lights went up, such was the haste with which Shields wanted to leave.

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Very impressive however. That clicky clacky noise that the plants make in Day of The Triffids was very much in evidence and had me glancing nervously over my should a few times to ensure I wasn’t being stalked by some sentient shrub. The piano was as manic as before but with the electronics and percussion involved It suddenly all made perfect sense. I shouldn’t really be as surprised as I was, as I listen to this piece quite often

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Imagine Morton Subotnick arm wrestling with Pierre Henry and the resulting noises being manipulated by a pre-menstrual Delia Derbyshire and you’re getting close.

We repaired to Blackfriars to liaise with a limping Rhursach before heading off to Guy’s for a wonderful birthday meal!

Turn on the bubble machine!

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A last minute dash from the Concert Hall Car Park to the hall meant I didn’t have time to visit the bar and establish if the on-going brown beer conspiracy against me continues, I suspect so!
First time I saw this band was four years ago in Edinburgh. It was a far younger audience than what’s here tonight. I can only surmise that this is due to a combination of tonight being a seated venue and a fairly serious hike in ticket price(s).
The lights went down at half seven sharp. Then the six of them, all wearing a uniform of plain black tee-shirts and blue jeans  walked on to the stage, plugged in and, apart from a short intermission, that’s exactly where they remained until ten minutes to eleven. Phew!

A quick ‘Good Evening, Glasgow!’ , then straight off they opened up the loping riff to The Gumbo Variations from Hot Rats, trivia alert – a tune that Frank himself never actually played live, and Sheila Gonzalez hits the ground running. I can’t recall any musician opening a show with such an intense passionate solo, Lisa Simpson would be proud. She then passes the musical baton to Dweezil who plays the solo that Don Sugarcane Harris takes on the record. I’ve heard many guitarists use effects to emulate other instruments (Fripp& Belew making their guitars be fairly convincing pianos etc.) however the electric fiddle sound deployed here is really quite incredible.

Sheila, meanwhile, is a force of nature, singing, playing saxes & keyboards, dancing and if that’s not enough, during all this, donning amongst other things kneepads, wraparound shades and a Viking helmet – depending upon what best serves the particular song to hand.image

The  Roxy and Elsewhere album was then played in its entirety and running order. I must confess and admit to be in a minority of Zappaphiles but I think this album is actually quite overrated. I just don’t ‘get’ why it’s lauded above so many other more ‘deserving’ titles.

During Bebop Tango (Of The Old Jazzmen’s Church) , Dweezil asks for volunteers to do some ‘interpretative dancing’.  An overweight and, if I’m honest, overpowering character got up to accompany the two females already selected

I found this performance all quite amusing until I realised it was actually Paul Riley who plays Winston from ‘Still Game’. The fact that he was a thespian somehow made it seem disingenuous, despite the fact that he’s obviously a serious ‘word perfect’ fan and that the band were also blissfully unaware of his local celebrity status.

Reservations about ‘Roxy’ aside, Cheepnis along with Trouble Every Day were standouts. This band is tight.

A couple sitting in front of us BOTH film the show on their phones, her on the long shots, him on close ups. Get a life!

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Apart from a very small bass amplifier there’s absolutely no onstage backline tonight. Everything’s FOH. They all wore in-ear monitors and set up their own personal foldback mix from iPads on music stands. Meanwhile at his feet DZ had an FX collection about the size of an ironing board. I’ve been in guitar gear shops with fewer pedals than what DZ was deploying here tonight. He even looked as if he had a couple of Eventides to hand as well.

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Being in Glasgow allowed them to make reference to Whisky & Haggis throughout the evening and local lads AC/DC’s Highway to Hell was quoted more than a few times too.

They closed the first set with Yakkety Sax, also known as The Benny Hill Theme. I was tempted to chase wifey around the auditorium in a cartoon fashion, discarding clothes as I did so, however thought better of it.

Florentine Pogen was absolutely flawless and the bass end of the mini moog sound was perfection. I could have listened to that all night.

In amongst a myriad of Frank tunes they played ‘Flakes’ from the Sheik Yerbouti album, complete with the Bob Dylan parody. The irony in this was that, Bob himself was onstage in Glasgow at that very moment, only a mile away at The Armadillo.

Eschewing traditional closer Peaches En Regalia, for Muffin Man, was inspired and, quite surprisingly, after three hours plus, onstage, I still wanted more!

The amazing thing is with such a deep catalogue to draw from, they could quite easily have played another similar lengthy show with completely different material.

North Mississippi Allstars at Oran Mor, Byres Road

Tonight I’m on my own, flying solo! Jimmy Naypals!
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John French’s Electric Flour-sifter has a rival. A serious rival …and it comes wrapped around drummer Cody Dickinson’s neck. An electric washboard hooked up to a delay unit and wah pedal. One minute it sounds like a locomotive coming down the track towards you, the next it sounds very like Hawkwind warming up THAT intro to Silver Machine. It must be sixteen years since I last saw the Allstars in Glasgow and, quite curiously, they look younger now than they did back then. Throughout the night, indeed from the first song, they regularly swap instruments for whatever demands that particular song makes. Guitar, bass, drums, a Lowebow and said washboard all get passed around regularly. They all sing and Luther Dickinson is quite the blues guitarist but then again playing with amongst others The Black Crowes, John Hiatt, Robert Randolph and John Medeski you would expect nothing less.

Tonight their backline was seriously compromised. Somewhere around the Borders, Police Scotland had stopped and confiscated some gear from their truck as they had exceeded the maximum axle load. This then resulted in the gig starting late and the support slot having to be jettisoned.

The set is a mixture of standards, Mystery Train, Rollin’& Tumblin’ and self penned songs from their first album right through to the present. Junior Kimbrough and RL Burnside cast a long wonderful shadow over this music. Blues the way I like it as opposed to what Joe Bonamassa ’s selling very successfully on the other side if the tracks
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As the gig reaches the end, the band all lift side drums and strap them on. Cody’s now wearing a Mardi Gras mask and they all march (and drum) their way through the audience to sing an extended sing-along version of Snake Drive.
Verdict? Please come back soon and hire a bigger van!