Sinister: sunday in manchester

[alistair]

hey ho folks, i'm sat here in the dullest recesses of troon, new years
eve, cursing the fact that my inability to get up and back from glasgow
means missing a Stevie performance and a chance to meet D & K again and
tell them how great they are... sigh.  instead i'm sat posting you all
my story of the sunday evening show whilst listening to the BEat Patrol
tape, (thanks PAul!!) which is entertainment at it's finest :-)

a drink would be good though... sigh :-(

'see' you all in '98.

keep the faith,

the duke.

---------- manchester sunday ----------

Driving into and through Manchester for the first time I’m struck by the
similarities to Glasgow, both in the Victorian architecture and in the
street geography.  At once it feels like a city of dreams, and the story
of the venue being chosen for this show as a result of an early morning
road trip by members of the band sparked by boredom makes perfect sense.

Despite this, however, initial signs for success are not good.  The bad
karma surrounding David and Katrina’s van disaster casts a sour note,
and Stuart David’s less than positive comments about both the stage
set-up and the previous night’s show similarly cast doubts as to whether
this is really all going to work out positively.  However, after a few
beers, Stuart and Isobel’s approval of my Postcard t-shirt, a bite of
Stuart’s veggie burrito and an aborted attempt to play Star Wars
Monopoly (abandoned due to Simpsons interest), things begin to look
rather better.  The arrival of Tim and Emily further lightens the mood,
and more beer is naturally consumed.

Allowing Stuart and Isobel to take our taxi into town (we figure they
have more pressing business
), we step into the one they had ordered and
head for the town hall
 after a brief check to see that the Square
Albert is closed, we head right into the Town Hall, and straight to the
bar.  We meet several familiar faces from Union Chapel, including Mark,
who is doing vox-pops for Q magazine.  More of which later


We totally miss Future Pilot, which is not  altogether accidental, and
have another beer and a chat.  I am gobsmacked when David turns up and
thrusts a wad of notes into my hand; payment for all the sold copies of
the paper Belle Lettres
 all 46 copies sold where I had honestly been
expecting to be lucky to sell ten.  I spend a few minutes worrying about
a flood of mail demanding refunds.

We have a look at the stage and agree it is a thoroughly bizarre set-up
in a thoroughly divine setting.  Looking around the hall and foyer I am
again struck by the similarity to Glasgow’s City Chambers and find
myself happier than a sandboy for the fact that I am not standing in
some crap traditional rock venue.  Looking around the hall and foyer,
there are a lot of smiling faces and a lot of young earnest boys.  I
prefer the smiling faces.

Belle & Sebastian take the stage and with little fuss immediately embark
on a delectable take on ‘Modern Rock Song’.  If there were sound
problems at the previous night’s show, they are clearly sorted, since
the band sound like a beautiful sonic cathedral.  Their Pop lineage is
clearly illuminated in the first song, and is cemented by the perfect
‘State I Am In’, during which Stuart uncharacteristically forgets no
words, and the band sounds uncannily like The Velvet Underground in
their most melodic and rhythmic mood.  Indeed this parallel is
immediately highlighted when, during the first and longest of their now
traditional extended periods of dithering, Stevie delivers an impromptu
few lines of ‘I’ll Be Your Mirror’.  Other between songs highlights
include the take on ‘Matchstick Men’ and Stevie’s demonstration of the
similarity between the riff of ‘Le Pastie De LA Bourgeoisie’ and the
theme to Emmerdale.  From Yummy Fur graffiti to bad TV shows
 it’s truly
amazing where inspiration can come from.  Many grumpy faces meet the
between songs entertainment, but at least both Tim and I smile and
delight in the pure un-rock’n’roll-ness of it all.  Long may their
ineptitude rule.

Much less entertaining however is the slip in sparkle that accompanies a
lacklustre ‘Seeing Other People’ and ‘Pastie’, although delight is
wholeheartedly redelivered in the performance of the exquisite
‘Loneliness Of The Middle Distance Runner’. Stuart tells us later that
if they had managed to get a good recording of the song it would have
been an EP lead track, but as it is may only just sneak out if the
Modern Rock Song EP happens. Cross your fingers, kids.

After ‘Loneliness’ comes more glorious highlights in the shape of ‘She’s
Losing It’, a truly exquisite ‘Seymour Stein’, ‘Century of Elvis’
complete with Stuart David reading from his little notebook and a couple
of new songs of unknown title.  It comes as no little delight in fact to
discover my own biggest heartflutters coming from the new tunes, and as
Tim indeed points out, not since the days of  The Claim has he been more
excited by new songs than old at a show.  I heartily agree.

But speaking of heartflutters, the biggest and best comes when Isobel
steps up to the mic and the strains of Orange Juice’s ‘In A Nutshell’
creep across the tracery of the Town Hall ceiling.  Belle & Sebastian
perform cover versions with some irregularity, but choose and deliver
them with such amazing class and poise that I can only stand and dumbly
grin at the perfection of the reference points.  I am genuinely
transfixed by Isobel as she sings, backed by Stevie’s magic ‘sha sha
sha’s, and I find myself hoping that everyone here will at the very
least determine to go and discover the original for themselves.

And so it goes.  When the lights go up, applause rings out, the lights
start coming up and Tim turns and says, simply, ‘they don’t, do they?’,
to which I reply ‘I certainly hope not’.  In the bar foyer we bump into
Mark again, who is poised with his tape recorder doing his vox-pops.
Stupidly I insist that both Tim and I get to participate, but all I can
think of to say is that Belle & Sebastian are ‘our generation’s Velvet
Underground.  And Orange Juice.  And that is all.  Even more stupidly I
actually tell the truth about both my age and occupation
  I sincerely
hope the photo does not come out.  After this embarrassing moment we
trail out slowly, saying goodbyes, and a few hellos as well to Andy, who
attests to the improvement between Saturday and Sunday, and Beth, who
arrived late and is still apparently shaken after train hassles.  It’s
all very rushed and I wish we all had longer to chat, but food beckons,
and it’s getting late.

After show we sit and argue about the egalitarianism of Pop versus Telly
and the positive or negative nature of Belle & Sebastian’s between song
ineptitude whilst eating Chinese.  Later we head back to the hotel,
drink more beer, feel sorry that David and Katrina have had such a
stressful time, have a good old natter and eventually hit bed around
3am.  By 9am we are back in our car and heading out again on the second
leg on our journey to Scotland.

Which is where I am now writing this
 new years’ eve.  It’s been an
amazing year.  I can’t even begin to think what the next is going to
bring, but whatever does transpire, I know that the magic that was Belle
& Sebastian in 1997 will stay with me forever.



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.    We're all happy bunnies humming happy bunny tunes.  Aren't we?
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