Saturday, 13 October 2012

HOT CHIP - my final concert

Forget sticky back plastic.

Couldn't find fablon/sticky back plastic in green/white check on internet.

Had this alternative idea, cover the platforms in a mosaic of green and white check with a deep violet border.






Each tile is 1cm square which is perfect. They should arrive on Wednesday.

Appalling artist's impression.
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Hot Chip, ABC, Glasgow, 12/10/12

Arrived by taxi and as I stepped foot on the pavement was instantly approached by a cockney speaking tout who offered to buy my spare ticket for £10. Just as instantly, I agreed and pocketed the £10.

Was almost certainly the oldest member of the standing-only audience - but not by much.

Very civilised venue and polite bouncers. The auditorium, considering its size, was situated way up within the building. One climbed several flights of stairs just to get to stage level. Firetrap?

Started bang on time at 8.30pm - always a good thing. (Note use of word, 'bang'.)

Found a spot to stand about 30 metres away from the stage.

The members of Hot Chip came on - to great cheers, obviously. The next few seconds was like that scene in Blackadder where the Infantry go over the top: for two reasons. Firstly, the biggest bank of stroboscopic lamps started flashing - you couldn't see a damn thing - and secondly, the drums and the bass were set at 'Olympic fireworks display' level. The thumping of the decibels on my chest and the flashing of the strobes almost killed me. I thought, "Well, this is it. Bing Crosby died on the golf course doing what he liked doing best, (I wonder how Jimmy Savile died.) and, I'm going to die doing what I like best, listening to music." Seriously, that's what I was thinking.

After two songs, I wondered if I were to move to the back of the hall, the assault on the body would diminish. I fought my way back through the crowd and discovered a spiral stair case up to a balcony - again, standing only.

A vast improvement and really, really enjoyed the rest of the evening.

I can't speak highly enough of Hot Chip. One felt a great wave of affection coming from the audience to them and vice versa. Like Coldplay, they come on stage wearing any old clothes. The lead singer looked as if he had put on his old clothes for doing the decorating.

The more I listen to them the more I see in them: it's that combination of complicated and incessant dance beats and those fragile lead vocals. The vocalist reminds me of Curtis Mayfield; another deliverer of beautiful melodic lines.

BUT, the volume settings for the drums and the bass don't suit my ageing anatomy. Amazingly, the two girls standing next to me chatted to each other continuously throughout. That was proof for me that their ears were in vastly different condition to mine.

It saddens me, but in future, I think I better listen to Hot Chip at home.

Here are some photos from my phone:

Going over the top.


From the balcony.

Gigantic rotating disco sphere in view.


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Last night's dinner:

Supermarket curry from a tin plus rice.






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