As we arrive at the entrance a reporter from a lesser publication, standing immediately in front of us, is struggling to convince the ticket booth lady he’s on the guest list.
“But you’ve got to let me in! This was arranged a month ago! I love this band!”
The ticket booth lady looks at him as if he’s a mirror and she’s a cat who’s caught sight of her own reflection and says she can’t do a thing. Disgruntled man leans forward and whispers something. Ticket booth lady turns around and delegates the decision to a younger lady, who further delegates it to some hidden face in the next room. A minute passes. The queue behind disgruntled man grows in synch with his humiliation. Eventually the word comes back and he’s allowed in. He snatches the tickets and makes a grizzly bear sound as he storms inside. We approach the desk.
“Yeah, guest list? We’re with hecklerspray.”
For some reason the mention of hecklerspray doesn’t make her quiver, fluster or even slightly wet herself. She peruses the list for a moment before giving us the same cat-reflected look. It’s our turn to lean in and whisper.
“Do you know who Stuart Heritage is?”
The cat face disappears and she looks on us as if we were human beings. We are whisked into the gig, with all apologies. As we enter we are told that the band is to start any moment. We meet disgruntled man at the bar who rolls his eyes in an attempt to connect with us. We give him nothing back. He downs a whiskey and coughs a bit up. It’s freezing outside and the crowd could do with some thawing out.
The Go! Team burst onto the stage. Unlike the crowd, you get the impression they’ve done their stretches. Especially so Ninja, the MC. Her voice struggles to be heard due to an early technical fault, but the band sound great and Ninja’s dancing makes up for the lack of vocal. She’s bewitching. Sex pours from her face. If she was to stand still most logical men would rate her a seven, but when she starts moving, well, you could quite comfortably talk of the letter nine with out too much derision.
“Is she wearing a bra?” shouts an excited voice from near by. It’s hard to tell. The name of the opening track escapes us and the surrounding crowd seem unaware of the title too, but what’s in a name? Music’s all about the feeling, and the noise created here awoke memories of completing a particularly tricky level of Mario, which is a splendid feeling to share with an audience. By the end of the song a hand full of people were dancing and they received a heartening cheer.
A small girl asks us when the main act is on. We tell her this is the main act. She tells us that it isn’t, because she’s seen a video of the main act dancing on treadmills and they don’t look like these people. We tell her that she’s thinking of OK Go. She tells us she just spent fifteen quid. We try to laugh with her, but as she isn’t laughing we are simply laughing at her. This seems to further add to her misery. She considers leaving but decides to give them a chance and by the end of the fourth song, by which time Ninja’s vocal has been repaired and the emergence of her nipples prove beyond doubt that she is indeed without bra, the small girl is dancing with the best of them.
The song is Panther Dash, and the crowd sway as if they’ve just liberated Princess Jasmine from the evil clutches of King Koopa. Where will they take us now? The answer is: nowhere else.
Each and every song is a celebration. Everything is positive. And it’s nice. It’s pleasant. But it doesn’t feel like much of a ride. The closest they come to tapping into an emotion that can’t be described as ‘yeah!’ is during the beginning of ‘Everyone’s a VIP to someone’. It stands apart from the rest of the set and allows the crowd to reflect for a little bit, perhaps mourning the death of Yoshi who gave his life so we could all reach this celebration, but by the end of the song the drums are crashing and Ninja is telling us to throw our hands up in the air and it’s suddenly all got positive again. They don’t seem happy to dwell much on any melancholy.
It’s a shame because you get the feeling they could do it well, and would make you appreciate the ‘yeah!’ moments more. As it is, by the time they play We Just Won't Be Defeated, the optimism is so intense that it begins to weigh heavy on the mind. There’s only so much ecstasy a human can consume before it’s exposed as empty and devoid of any acknowledgement to the fact that death is always waiting for us, and you have got to embrace death to embrace life. You can’t just keep on rescuing Princess Jasmine, at some point she had to be kidnapped, and you surely weren’t so positive then? Why not sing about that? We might be able to understand more why it is The Go! Team think they can’t be defeated.
As the crowd disperses at the end everyone seems content. There are quite a few faces that look similar to how Tom Cruise’s face always looks these days. One of them is the small girl expecting OK Go. We ask her what she made of the gig, “Absolutely fucking awesome” is the reply. Everyone else seems happy enough too, even disgruntled man smiles. A lot of people comment on the similarity of the songs but it’s only a minor gripe and the general consensus is that, although a long way from the finished article, Go! Team do have the potential to become an excellent band.
They just need to stop being so bloody happy.
ruftouch says
kudos to u guys that review has just brightened up my otherwise slightly drabber than normal morning. ‘the letter nine’ LOL if i had half the linguistic dexterity u guys have i would never bother going to a gym again, i’d go on the pull every fucking night. again, kudos.
Evil C says
Awesome, man, pure Gonzo, what were you on when you were writing that? I could do with some.
Paul Sorrenti says
cinzano and poppers shaken in a young boys lunchbox and garnished with lighter fluid. let it mature over four days. to be taken intravenously.