lproven | An unexpected visit (Reply)

Had been planning to go to the Ton. But this afternoon,

vanessaw texts me and tells me that she has a spare ticket to Razorlight at the O2, because the mate she was going with has had to drop out.

I've already been to the O2 once this year, to see Metallica with

sparktastic, and it was one of the top 5 best gigs I've ever been to. It was my first time there and Sparky got great seats, very low down and near the front. Excellent view, although I always feel out of place sitting down at a rock gig. I am not sure if I wrote about the Metallica gig at the time, but it was great - and a forgotten pleasure. I've never seen them before. Back in October when she asked me, on the basis that none of her other gig-going mates knew of her secret vice of RAWK and would want to (so nice to be a last resort!), I could readily afford £40 for a gig. Even if it was the most I'd ever paid.

By April, when it came round, there was no way I could have. It was like a present from a former self. We also caught Machine Head, the second support act, who were pretty good, but Metallica owned the island stage like few bands I've ever seen before. The light show was very impressive, with huge floating coffin things descending from the mists of the distant ceiling, there were flames and pyrotechnics, there were thousand of black balloons of all sizes, there were no big screens or props like that... Excellent stuff.

It was an un-anticipated pleasure to be returning there so soon for another band, ones who, like Metallica, I'm signicantly fond but no albums of whose I own. I was listening to Razorlight on Spotify all day, by way of last-minute "revision".

The beer in there is awful, and it's also £4.30 a pint, so we snagged a half-decent one in one of the bars on the outer ring first. Duvel for me; at least you know where you are with a bottle of Duvel.

Then we went in for the first support act, Airborne Toxic Event. We didn't pay them nearly the attention they deserved, but they were rather good. I shall be seeking out some more.

Then came the Howling Bells, of whom I'd not heard before. It was hard to tell from our seats up in the gods, but the tiny distant figure of Juliana Stein looked rather cute and she sounded good. Vague echoes of the Cranes or the Sundays or some other ethereal girly-fronted band I can't quite put my finger on.

Then a long gap before the main event. This time, it was a more conventional layout with a stage opposite the main groundling's bar, and there were big flanking screens too - of which I was quite glad. I've never seen Razorlight before, but I fondly remember wading though a slick of tiny little spotty emo kids in Tottenham Court Road station on night a few years back. When I idly wondered aloud to my companion where and why Every Single Teenybopper In London had come from and why they were ALL in TCR station, one of them bravely volunteered that Razorlight had played the Astoria that night. And that it had been really good, actually.

I (slightly sheepishly, for I'd not really meant to be overheard, but being silent and inconspicuous is not a strength of mine) allowed that I quite liked them myself, despite my great age and everything.

So I was doubly chuffed to get to go and see them for myself.

As Spotify had reminded me, I actually know and like a lot of their stuff, but I've always been vaguely of the opinion that they were a good band but not nearly as good as they thought they were, if you see what I mean.

Well, I think I have to revise that, now.

Compared to their support acts, their confidence as they took to the stage spoke volumes. They didn't quite sell out the dome - the far end of the top tier of seats (the same tier as where we were) was empty, but there were a lot of people in there. At a wild guess, 10,000+. And the band did not look daunted.

The sound quality was excellent, for the size of venue; only in the quietest numbers was there any problem with echoes. The performance was good, slightly wild and edge in places, but with some good skilful guitar work in their anthemic instrumentals - more faithful than I've heard some old-time big stadium acts manage, without being slavish to their singles or album mixes. There was not only some good back-filling synth work, there was a proper upright piano on stage, used well, and a percussionist with kettle drums and marimba. The kettle drums provided some wonderful deep rhythm in a couple of numbers, but alas, the marimba was inaudible, at least to my aging ears.

It was a good, crowd-pleasing set - only about an hour, but packed with all the favourites, of which there's a surprising number, and only a modicum of new numbers and album tracks for the hardcore fans. All the stuff I'd been hoping for was in there and more, and its reception was very good. Hard to measure the mood of such a big crowd from up in the gods - certainly they were loving it in places, and the one singalong session was an epic - more of a colossal murmur than actual song, but hey, they all knew the words and they were belting it out, down there a mile or so below us.

The encore was a little bit of a pro forma - the crowd were expecting it and didn't make much of noise asking for it. And it was all new stuff, to me, and to many, judging from its reception.

But then, after a good third of the crowd had gone, Johnny Borrell came back on stage and did a rather good and moving solo piano song, the house where my father died. The remaining audience were agog. And after that, the rest of the band returned and did another three numbers - none I knew, but clearly many there did.

A really good solid gig, excellent fun, and a thousand thanks to 'Ness for taking me there. I feel sorry for her mate who missed out on it.

And that is about the closest thing to a rock journo gig review you're ever likely to see out of me.