The Wedding Present - Northampton Roadmender, Tuesday 8th March 2005
Once again I am accosted whilst waiting outside tonight's venue for my gig cohort bil (aka signalmanwhite) to arrive. Not another panhandling colonial, but a teenage girlie on her way into the gig with a gaggle of friends. She asks me if I would like a doughnut she has left in a bag. So, once again I obviously look like a member of the underfed underclass. At least she assumed I spoke English.
Northampton had a few niggles for me (I was last there over a year ago); the car park next to the Roadmender had all its lights on (including the big sign saying 'SPACES') but was shut, necessitating a park on nearby Sheep Street. A line of scraggy youths formed a greasy gauntlet for people walking to the venue, which was nice (perhaps they were Northampton's version of Goldie Lookin' Chain - the Shittie Smellin' Runts). And the venue itself had helpful signs on one door saying 'ticket holders only' and 'way in', the door being helpfully locked. Practically every person tried this door as they arrived before finding the real way in, beneath a malfunctioning LED sign advertising 'The Wedding Presents' (sic).
bil and I were in two minds as to whether we should watch the support but were very glad we did. The band were Scanners. I wasn't aware that PJ Harvey had a talented niece who was in a band but that's the only explanation I can come up with for Sarah, Scanners' voice and bass. As with Comanechi's Akiko, Sarah had the sizeable male audience contingent coming over all Papa Lazarou. She's my wife now, however, as I have her name-sign next to my own on one of their plastic music discs. Ah yes - the music! I've already made the obvious PJH reference, but we also had ebow-driven swirliness in parts, locking nicely with some mildy grungey riffing. Early numbers benefitted from some primeval keyboard plonk. Some song titles were given but I'm afraid my attention was elsewhere at the time.
Sarah mentioned the band's name several times - obviously aware that our (male) memories might be impeded somewhat. She also used a very cute term for the bit of the venue where bands sell their shit - this is, apparently, the 'merch table'. Bless! At the close of their vibrant final song, the band made the obligatory rock n' roll exit, with the bass being deposited face down on the stage, ringing with phasy feedback and the other, rather more expensive, guitars going back on their stands. As they were the support band, Scanners also made the obligatory return to the stage two minutes later to pack up their kit.
The hall was fairly full for the main act (I am not going to succumb to any sub-NME band nicknaming here by referring to them throughout this review as 'the Weddoes', 'the Prezzoes' or 'the Wezzo Preddoes') and I bagged us an excellent viewpoint at the front. Phoenix Nights' Max and Paddy were doing security and it was sad to see that Paddy's really let himself go. The same could be said for the audience, of course, being mostly of a certain age and, indeed, a certain girth. The frantic moshing that accompanies Wedding Present gigs was, no doubt, the first exercise some of the audience had had this year. They just need to keep it up at the gym rather than simply lose their membership cards under the seats of their BMWs. The atmosphere was excited, expectant and very clean, since signs were up everywhere informing us that David Gedge had a cold and would appreciate no smoking in the auditorium.
The band made a rock legend entrance, one at a time, Gedge last (of course). From then on, virtually every song felt like being tickled under the chin by a woolly mammoth who then proceeds to stamp on your head. Thankfully, the sound remained the right side of pain throughout. The set was consistently excellent, of course, with the newer songs being no less wonderful than the venerable classics (Kennedy, My Favourite Dress, Once More, etc. No sign of Brassneck, however).
Unusually, the band had a young female roadie, who was kept from picture messaging her mates by Gedge breaking guitar strings every other song (the picture on the left shows him just about to do so during My Favourite Dress). She also kept him supplied with Lemsip and stood at the back of the stage looking bored stiff. Now I'm all for work experience, certainly of this sort, but the enormous ear defenders the girl wore were evidence that she was concerned for her hearing and I myself became worried as the gig went on that she might not make it to school the next morning. Oh well, such are the sacrifices of the rock n'roll life.
Heckling hooligans were responded to with customary wit and aplomb (I love that word). As the gig neared its end Gedge informed us all that no, The Wedding Present do not do encores (he said the same when I went to see Cinerama a year or so ago). With thanks and a little joke on the Northampton/Southampton 'local rivalry', we were finally bounced and beaten by a thunderous What Have I Said Now? - the best song about being in a relationship and having a row by the man who writes the best songs about being in relationships and having rows. All together now - "Why can't I always say what I mean..."