The beginning of the bank-holiday weekend saw me stumbling about half blinded by the glare of Manchester's eighth consecutive May sunset. The big orange thing in the sky defied both the forecast and a stormy looking gang of pitch black clouds in order to shine like hell until sunset.
The brilliant rays made it virtually impossible to detect any hungry-looking pigeons. Downstairs at the Roadhouse, the evening's entertainment commenced with a set from synth-pop duo KIDS ON BRIDGES. Their half-eight stage time was hardly ideal for their intended blend of surging grooves and social commentary, and the absence of visuals/strobes could only put the likeable duo at a further disadvantage as, ultimately they failed to reproduce the impact/power of their recorded work. It's bound to take the edge off your bid for techno-rock world domination if it coincides with a seven year olds bedtime, but the pre-watershed timing was sadly appropriate for the anti-Cowell outburst that left them high and dry.
And when scores of seven year old girls were later to spotted on the city streets at midnight openly flaunting their scorn for bedtime by mingling with the drunks in the streets and kebab houses of Shudehill, you had to laugh. Don't blame their mams and dads though, as Westlife (who effortlessly sold out the Arena) have the power to melt curfews.
Meanwhile, over at Night and Day, white dread sensation JP COOPER was wowing a near-full house with the help of assorted pals, who jammed along with the singer/songwriter's soulfully delivered brand of lounging funk/folk, adding everything from ukeleles to a glockenspiel. Cooper's vocals are unoriginal, but strong enough to turn heads and command total attention (the packed venue was at least 90% rapt).
'Using the force' (in the Star Wars sense of course!) I found myself downstairs at The Ruby Lounge (at one time the setting of the local Yates Wine Lodge, or a glitzy discotheque called Courts - I think!) where BBC radio Manchester's successful monthly live showcase was celebrating its first birthday with inclusion to this year's Hungry Pigeon.
Here, I caught the latter half of the performance as fifties rockabilly revivalists THE GILDED PALACE OF SIN ripped it up in uncompromising fashion. Both their musical influences and their dress sense helped the five-piece to stick out like sore thumbs as being - ahem - the wrong side of 30.
But the self-consciousness you'd expect from latter-day Teddy Boys was conspicuous only by its' absence as the group ploughed through their psychotic/Jon Spencer-esque/semi acoustic guitar/harmonica-Nick Cave fuelled take on the original rock'n' roll sound.
They were followed by the eccentric LIZ GREEN, who quickly established a rapport with the assembled crowd that won over any strangers to her oddly-pitched but compelling blend of folk/blues.
"I haven't got a pint of beer tonight" she mused, quoting from one of her wildly unhinged blues-train songs after she had played it:
"Nope...I've got a pint of rum and coke instead," she explained to hearty laughter.
"We're not going to pay you," she explained after her brilliant and original set, mimicking the BBC promoter who she met upon arrival at the venue...."So I said OK...I'll have that, and that..." indicating two manager-of-the-month size bottles of rum that had previously taken pride of place behind the Ruby Lounge's bar. Seventy or eighty quids worth of spirits, done deal!
Her surreal and melancholy song lyrics are packed with feminist gallows humour. If this is rum-fuelled thinking, then these are thoughts worth sharing:"Every man wants more than he ever did before," she implores during the haunting ËœBad Medicine"
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Green's morbid mirth finds an outlet via a blend of styles: 20s trad/jazz and stage musical elements thicken the ostensible folk/blues hybrid that she whipped up using only a plug-in acoustic guitar she told with the same deadpan dryness as her anecdotes. That's not to mention Green's original talent by the way; the sheer distinctive power of a voice that can transcend the moment.
Her grand finale was delivered accapella and involved a walk through the audience where she addressed different parts of the tale to individual smiling festival goers. It would have smashed down all barriers, had she not already done so; as she had, her parting shot merely brought the house down.
KIRSTY ALMEIDA was in brilliant form at the re-opened (and beautifully refurbished)Band On The Wall, and her brilliant set went down such a storm with the capacity crowd that she seemed to be obliterating any last traces of anonymity. Now surely certain to be catapulted to superstardom, she'll probably never play such a modest-sized venue again.
Top billing for HP 2010 were indie veterans ATHLETE, who took to the outdoor stage at teatime on the Saturday in a specially cordoned off area of Piccadilly gardens. With security at the main entrance adopting a needlessly heavy-handed approach and restrictions generally tight involving meticulous searches and a heavy police presence inside the gates, I watched their entire set from just beyond the 3ft high perimeter fencing - why put myself through the hassle? Photographers were admitted on a '3 songs and out basis only, and there was a special staffed part of the fence serving as a swift assisted exit for those snappers who were reluctant to depart.
OK, they've had their place in the sun as far as record sales go, but though many reactions dismissed them as aËœwee bit tame" to be the headline act, their accomplished set saw their latest material blended seamlessly in with a stream of numbers thrown in especially to please the crowd.
'El Salvador' was an undoubted highlight and turned heads well beyond 'official' arena, where a stream of effortlessly hook-filled and catchy tunes from the back catalogue were making it harder and harder for the shoppers and hip-hoppers to feign disinterest. 'Tourist' also hit the spot (it sounded like astute social commentary, considering that the 16-venue programme of events forced even the locals to scratch their heads whilst pondering the specially designed map that was included with the programme of events for the weekend.
'Hurricane' brought forth more unconditional love from fans and non-fans alike, and the London 4-piece followed up with another anthem. 'Wire' might well have been the point where things got a little too predictable, but the radio-friendly big hitter was nonetheless welcomed with huge cheers from just a few of the folk who helped make it a chart success.
Hungry Pigeon online
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