oh what a night (pt 2)

The Modfather's stuff!

So, I’m on to part two of my long rambling review of last Thursday’s gig at The Roundhouse.  Part one is here obviously!

So, after Get Cape. Wear Cape. Fly I was feeling pretty happy (although that could be the bevvies that Mr C&C was buying me too!).

Next up was Mr Hudson, who I had seen at Lovebox, and had been really impressed by.  His set was very energetic, a lot more rich sounding than some of the previous acts, although the female backing-singer had a fantastic voice, but was playing a steel drum, which was rather strange.  Supernova was brilliant once again (although slightly steel-drum odd) and way better than the version with bloody Kanye West ruining it!

The next act was John McClure of Reverand & The Makers.  the tallest man in rock as they dubbed him – and he IS quite formidable.  It was just him and his guitar, doing what he’s always done best really – busking.  He was pretty amusing with it though, he said “They asked me if I’d like to play tonight and I said sure, but then I couldn’t get a band together.  they then told me thta I was going to be on straight before Paul Weller, so no pressure there then!  But there’s worse things in life than being the Modfather’s fluffer, so I’m dead happy to give it a go!”

He was really good, especially as they were obviously starting to set up the equipment for Weller and his band all around him.

Then Marcus Birgstocke came back on to fill in the time, and decided to have a beatbox competition with a random audience member, with quite surprising but amusing results!

Then it was Paul Weller.  I’ve never really been much of a Weller fan, or the Style Council…although I never minded The Jam and have a Greatest Hits album somewhere.  My faves of his have always been Eton Rifles and Start, so how happy was I that his set included both AND A Town Called Malice – which totally rocked the joint!

I had been aware of a really cute little woman grinning at me from the other side of the rather ‘dude/cool’ looking guy sitting next to me, and then the two of them convinced me to throw caution to the wind, forget about my walking stick and dance along to Start and Malice.  She then came and chatted to me once Paul weller was off “Hi, what’s your name…I’m Gail” and me thinking “Yes. Yes you are.  You’re Gail Porter.  You’ve had your picture projected onto the Houses of Parliament.  You had your nipples airbrushed out!” and of course, all I could think of were her nipples after that – I had a craving to check them out.  *sigh*

Where oh where did her nipples go?

She gave me her wine, she hugged me, held my hand, kissed me, snogged me a little bit, introduced me to her boyfriend and his band, chatted a bit more and gave me her email address and a CD of her boyfriend’s band.  It was all rather surreal.

So, anyway, after Paul Weller was KT Tunstall, who was really good – and I was rather enthralled by her drummers – there were two of them on one set of drums and a kettle drum, and one of them was a really unlikely-looking ‘rock star’ with big curly hair, beard and a Pringle jumper…but he was so exuberant and drumming so hard (and well!) that his not unconsiderable boobage was fairly dancing!

Next up were I Should Coco, which consisted of a guy and a girl, the girl being Coco Sumner, Sting’s daughter – and to be honest, they were quite good, but only did one song, and she sounded exactly like a female version of Sting, which was a bit strange but in a good way!

Then it was The Magic Numbers, who were really good, but by that time, my leg had started really giving me gip from the dancing and all I could think about was the fact that I needed to get home, and the realisation that if I left, I was going to miss Seasick Steve   But I’d had a fantastic night, and it was more than I’d been thinking I was going to manage, so I told C I was going to have to leave, and he came with me (which was really sweet, cos he could’ve watched me hobble off and stay til the end!)

I know I haven’t mentioned Harry Shearer presenting, and doing Mr Burns or how pissed Shappi Khorsandi was, which disappointed me as I’ve always found her really funny, but she was like a drunk embarrassing auntie, saying how her boyfriend is a musician and calling iPhone’s whores!  And Peter Serafinowicz doing loads of impressions like De Niro and Sly Stallone!  But I’d be here forever…

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