Gig Blogged #32 - Lightning Bolt @ Nottingham Boat Club

Lightning Bolt @ The Boat Club, Nottingham, Saturday 13th May 2006
	Tonight’s venue is steeped in rock n’ roll history. They’ve all played here at one time or another, you know. Led Zeppelin. The Datsuns. Mud. There was a wooden plaque detailing it all (up to 1979, anyway) stuck behind Lightning Bolt’s pile of equipment. To mark such an auspicious occasion, we came bearing a gift – a flag lovingly crafted by Gilbert and Daughter, which we handed to the ‘Bolt’s Brian Drums before the evening’s noise kicked off. He seemed genuinely taken aback, as well he might – the flag was awesome.
	I was really looking forward to seeing Lords again – and I was not disappointed. While the rest of the country appears to be dribbling over youths sucking on the corpse of Wire, or using music as an excuse to cram as much oiled-up flesh onto television as is legally possible, we have bands like Lords quietly outstripping the lot for actual joy in music.
	If I was in a band I’d like it to be like Lords – they seemed to be having such fun playing music, stringing together such magnificent riffs I can even forgive the yank accent to the vocals. My feet wouldn’t stop moving. Some sound problems – with the mixer to the right of the stage we had some lost vocals and the appearance of a sax player for one song was a visual addition only – but thankfully the guitars and drums were thumpingly spot-on throughout. Why aren’t Lords doing gigs of their own?
	After dealing with the slight crush at the bar after Lords (with Gilbert’s ‘help’), we heard the harsh growl of a Telecaster through a Marshall – signalling Blood Red Shoes’ arrival. Female guitar and vocals, male drums and vocals, facing each other and sounding like the White Stripes being molested in a dark alley by the Slits. Again we had inaudible vocals for the guitarist at first but after about half a dozen people (including myself) signalled the sound chap frantically he found the volume controls and did the necessary. This brought forth some quite unholy screams about God-knows-what, adding to an already driving wall of stomp and fury. The songs could have been about how unfair Mr. Higgins in Geography is for all I knew. I was swept away – with no idea a single Tele could sound so meaty and incisive at the same time. Despite the power at their fingertips, they appeared nervous – indeed the drummer said “I can’t believe we’re playing with Lightning Bolt” before promptly throwing up. Believe me – they have no need of nerves.
	As the first night of what will no doubt be a sold-out tour, you might expect a few slebs finding themselves in the area of a football club named after some trees to at least put in a peripheral appearance. Kate Moss, perhaps. Or some cadaverous youth from This Year’s Biggest Band (© NME) in an ill-fitting suit (there were a few of these but I didn’t recognise any of them. This means nothing, of course, as I am highly unlikely to recognise anyone ‘famous’ these days). We did have Finchy from The Office (see pics), who looked by turns excited, disturbing and scared by what was going on around him.
	I’ve not enjoyed myself more at a gig where the main band was impossible to see. Despite being on the stage in a tiny room, we could still only hear the mayhem. Hence the pics – you’ll have to gauge the gig on the crowd. Now, I admitted early on that I can’t listen to a Lightning Bolt album all the way through. Not because I don’t like them, you understand, but because I find my poor old ears need a certain amount of recovery time after a few tracks. So I was more than pleasantly surprised when the sound quality was excellent – no recovery from pain needed. So let us all laugh once more at those people who wore earplugs and stood chugging red wine because they’d read in last week’s papers that it prevents deafness.
	The expected big crush towards the band left a good third to a half of the floor empty, with the rest of us on the stage or precariously balanced on shelves usually reserved for drinks (they don’t make shelving like that in modern venues, you know). There was little insane moshing, more well-behaved jostling. The ‘Bolt didn’t appear to have to stop because someone had crashed into the drums, for example. A couple of dicks do deserve of a mention, however – one tall chap in a waistcoat sucking on the remains of a half bottle of scotch was pumping the air frantically near us at the start, leaning on all and sundry, and near the end a strangely-bearded fellow, stood talking with his girlfriend, suddenly launched himself straight through the back rows of the crowd, hammering with his fists in a way which suggested the slogan on his back was indeed true (‘I would die tonight for my beliefs’, it said – his beliefs presumably being that he has the right to punch people in the back of the head). After a few seconds of concern that he had snapped mental, he just as suddenly bounced back to his girl’s side and began calmly texting someone. The classic behaviour of someone who doesn’t go to gigs very often and bases their behaviour on a few System of a Down videos.
Part way through Brian Drums began to call for a delay pedal, in an attempt to make his singing sound ‘less shit’. Bearing in mind that he had been screaming and yelping into a small microphone sewn inside a hastily-stitched mask, his professionalism was admirable. But lost on me. Nobody had the required pedal, of course – they should’ve played with the Magik Markers on Thursday – there was a window-sill full of pedals by the end of that gig.
Sweat threshold reached, Lightning Bolt crashed into a final trio of tracks which sent the crowd into a final ecstasy (and the aforementioned strangebeard into mindless violence). One gig. Five pounds.Three bands. All awesome. It doesn’t get better than that. Damn You! once again we salute you!
UPDATE - For the Illusionator's ongoing dialogue with his knee CLICK HERE. Fun was had at Glasgow as well.