Saving my soul, Lanegan style

I'm a lucky, lucky girl. As the old adage goes, it's definitely not what I know, it's who I know. I regularly get to see lots of amazing music for free. It's always a privilege, and I certainly never take it for granted.

So when Mr C said he had a place for me to go see Soulsavers with my darling Mr Lanegan on vocals, I was over that proverbial moon. The gig was taking place at Highbury Garage, now known as the Relentless Garage. What? Relentless? Why?

Going to gigs on my own has never really bothered me - aah, the life of the single girl...obviously, I'd rather have Mr Ward in tow nowadays, but there's the small matter of several seas and oceans between us. So, I found myself standing alone watching Tenebrous Liar, the support act. Main singer/guitarist is Steve Gullick, who is also an amazing rock photographer. I've seen his work exhibited at Rough Trade East and in many mags over the years. Much as I admire anyone who stands up in front of a load of folk and gives it their all, and I'm not normally one to ever suggest that someone shouldn't give up their day job, but...well, he is an amazing photographer.

I bump into a couple of folk I know - funnily enough, one is a photographer I happen to be working with at the moment. He and his truly stunning girlfriend are there purely to see Mr L. We'd already discovered our mutual admiration of him during a chat about music in the recent past. I promise the Stunner my after-show party wristband at the end of the gig and she is thrilled. 

The lights dim and the intro to 'Paper Money' begins...I've already wondered how they'll manage a few of these tunes without their gospel singers (Mr C had already told me there'd be no backing singers) but they seem to fill in with a wall of guitars which works pretty well. Mark Lanegan is a powerhouse. His voice never disappoints, and his presence on stage holds the attention of the entire audience, despite doing absolutely nothing but singing into his mic and not moving an inch. Towards the end, he leaves the stage for one song, and although it's well received, when he returns to the stage, it's all too clear that the crowd is here for him. Soulsavers have written some great material, but I reckon it's his delivery that makes it into something musically moving and spiritual.

My sweet Lord...I bloody love him.

Worshipping Bill

It seems only right that I got to worship one of my Gods last week, and in a lovely church too. I've been a bit busy, so this is the first chance I've had to write about it (well, actually, if I hadn't finished writing OzBlog about my love adventures first, I reckon Wardy would have taken the hump and I'd be straight back to being Valerie Singleton). 

Got to the Union Chapel very early (bit keen aren't you?), so I could get a good seat. The Brummie and Screwy were out for a bit of dinner beforehand, so I had to save a couple of spaces on the pew...very tricky avoiding the glances of earnest young folks who reckon it's first come, first served. Frankly, my dears - I don't give a damn. The show is a sell-out, they've already had to put on a second night, so I'm sitting tight.

Support act is a girl called Sophia. She's OK, but I've seen so many acts like this (girl with guitar and quite a nice voice) that they really have to be very good to make me sit up and take notice. And she did a couple of things I liked, but nothing that'd make me go out of my way to see her again. I remember thinking she had a nice dress on, and that can't be a good sign...

Some huge man came and sat in the pew right in front of me. Bloody tall people. Bane of my life (where gigs are concerned). No escape, even in the Lord's House. And then his girlfriend appeared (also too tall), who seemed to be orchestrating the seating plan for her entire group of friends by standing and waggling her hands and pointing out where she could see spare seats on pews 10 rows away. Fucking annoying. At this point, I was secretly thrilled to see that her boyfriend was also annoyed with her for doing this and drawing too much attention to him. Then he wouldn't speak to her (schadenfreude - a concept I love - clever Germans). Sadly, they made up later, and managed to drape themselves around each others necks while Bill was on, making themselves about 7 feet wide and too tall with it. Fuckers. Can't help but think The Lord was getting back at me for my evil thoughts...

Enough of all that rubbish - let's get to Bill. He came on and the place went mad (well, as mad as nice, indie-loving middle-class people can). And it was just lovely. He looks like he really enjoys himself, laughing, pulling moves, so charismatic. Couldn't take my eyes off him. He plays Diamond Dancer, which thrills Brummie, it's a real favourite of hers. And as he has strings (violin, cello), he can play Eid Ma Clack Shaw and really do it justice. When he finished, he got some of the loudest cheers I've ever heard at The Union Chapel. And so we get Cold Blooded Old Times as an encore (I was hoping for The Well, but hey,maybe a girl shouldn't always get everything she wants, and just getting to watch him was kinda enough).