Do you remember the first time?

Yeah, I suck. Been sitting on this review for months. And Bestival. And two gigs I went to recently and totally forgot to write about. I'd say I'll change, write more, be good...but...you know.

Wireless, 3rd July 2011, London Hyde Park

The year is 1995 and Essex as we know it is a different place. Well, it was still a land of high tans and low brain cells, but at least the loudest of these specimens didn’t have their own ITV franchise. Anyway, the landscape of Colchester was certainly different. I remember being all of 10 years old and visiting Our Price on Culver Square (which shut down and became Woolworths which shut now and is now New Look or something). They had listening booths dotted around the store, and I knew which one I was after. There was this band I’d seen on Top Of The Pops and probably Live & Kicking too. Being that age music was a relatively new thing to me. My earliest exposure would have been getting Kylie’s first album (THE HAT!!!!) on cassette (this was 1988 remember) and clearly I never looked back. I found an oversized pair of headphones and began listening. “This is really good” I said to my Mum who was waiting nearby.

“Joseph, you’re shouting”.

I can’t remember if I bought the album then or waited until a birthday, but I do remember getting Different Class and being instantly terrified and intimidated by it. Titles like Live Bed Show and Underwear sounded far too dirty to listen to. There’s also a recollection in the back of my mind of one dinner time being asked if I knew exactly what “E’s and Wizz” were.

So I only listened to four of its tracks. For around three years this era defining record stayed unplayed. Reaching that awkward 13 I finally found it in me to put it on and stay the distance. My God. Listening to it today, it’s still a remarkable album. In amongst the fog of Britpop (which was 80%-90% Boys With Guitars) came a band who thought rather that fought. And it changed my life all over again, beginning this love affair with music that to this day makes me part with more money than other interests or distractions.

I first saw Pulp at my first ever festival. For a 15th birthday present, Dad took me to a day at Reading in 2000. Throughout the day was an indie smorgasboard, with the delights of The Delgados, Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci, Idlewild, Elastica, Super Furry Animals, Gomez and Beck. Pulp hadn’t played a gig in 18 months, and this was the big comeback. It was like falling love all over again.

Then came shows in Brixton late 2001 and Thetford Forest 2002, both at the end of a string of gigs that carried the air of it being the last time. And then it was. No more Pulp. Jarvis would go through phases of “no fucking way”, but I always knew they’d be back.

If there’s one thing about Jarvis Cocker, it’s that he never lets you down.

But let’s talk about the other bands first. Metronomy were the first one I paid any attention to, but as there is a review of a full gig by them elsewhere, let’s just say they made the most of an early afternoon 30 minute slot. The Horrors showed their continuing maturity with a strong collection of new songs. The Hives surprised everyone with their continued existence. They now wear hats!! Saying that, I was surrounded by old uni friends so the likes of Hate To Say I Told You So brought back memories of 99p pints consumed in the basement of our sports centre. TV On The Radio put on a spectacular show in the sunset, sounding as pounding and urgent as ever. Foals is where the alcohol starts to fuzz the memory slightly, and we left early to get a good main stage spot, but they played a typically tight set, even if the instrumentals all tended to blur into one.

It’s hard to write anything about Pulp’s set other than “utter perfection”. Opening with Do You Remember The First Time with much exploding of ticker tape cannons, Jarvis shook his ever-skinny frame to a set of nostalgia and joy. Consisting of pretty much all of Different Class with a few other delights thrown in, we knew all the words, we sung every note. As this was the first show announced alongside their reunion, Jarvis praised us for being “early adopters” and regaled us with various London tales. This was the most relaxed performance I’d seen from Pulp, playing with Russell Senior for the first time since 1996. Whatever had caused them to call it a day was forgotten. Whether they do anything after this doesn’t matter, this show was an example of how to get a reunion right.

Common People closed the day, and could have been the last song I ever heard. It summed up the whole show: still clever, still loud, still shaking, just with more explosions.

Don’t be a Stranger

If you want tough, I'll give you tough

Parklife, Manchester Platt Fields, 12/06/10

Hello! Long time no write. A shame really cos I’ve been to some cracking gigs over the past few months. I almost wrote about LCD Soundsystem’s phenomenal show at the Academy, but struggled past “Perfection”. This Is Happening will probably be my album of the year, and that gig will take some topping. Foals came a couple days later, and probably would have been enjoyed more if I still wasn’t in a daze from LCD. Still, a fine performance that was the right combination of old and new.

But now Festival Season is here! And that means t-shirt sunburn, overpriced cider and some rambling reviews from your humble scribe.

The omens were good. Any day that starts by drinking cider at 11am that you found left behind on the train is going to be an amazing day.

Parklife is a newcomer to the festival scene. Every summer there seems to be articles questioning “are there too many festivals?” As this question is asked every year, the answer is probably "no". And if they’re as well managed as Parklife, then we could stand to gain a few more.

Set a few miles down Oxford Road (translation: swimming with students), Parklife took place in the vaguely picturesque Platt Fields, big enough to lose people but not too small to feel claustrophobic. Despite the preceding week’s stormy weather, the ground was pretty firm under foot. In fact, all props to the weather, we were served a fucking blinder.

There were around half a dozen stages offering acts that leant more to electro and DnB with a splash of dubstep and other dance genres. Saying that, there was a particularly high Lads’n’Wags presence, but that would have been down to a certain football match being shown in a corner of the field. Didn’t see any of the game myself, I was in too good a mood to want to be let down by a typically average display from Our Boys. Soz England.

Metropolis have always put on amazing nights in Leeds, and it was in their tent that we spent most of the day, starting with the masked antics of SBTRKT. N-Type was bringing the dub over in the neighbouring Ape tent, but it was a bit early in the day for dubstep. Actually, call me out of touch with The Sound Of Now (or 2009 or whatever) but I’m never in the mood for dubstep.

After a frolic in the Silent Disco (literally amazing) it was back to Metropolis for Danny Byrd who was playing 30 seconds of every tune under the sun. A good warm up, but left us wanting something a bit more prolonged. Over to the Big Top for Simian Mobile Disco, and what I thought was a live show turned out to be a DJ set, and a bit of a monotonous one at that. Now I love a bit of SMD, and perhaps it picked up after we bailed, but after 20 minutes of what felt like the same song, it wasn’t exactly uplifting. Too prolonged. Be careful what you wish for.

So it was over to the Main Stage for Calvin Harris and a DJ set that was beyond uplifting. Now he seems to get a lot of bad press, but personally I think he knows a good tune and he certainly played a lot of them. It also helped that the sun was blazing and I was starting feel the effects of a day on the booze and very little else. Highlight: One More Time. Always goes down well. And I’m Not Alone will always remind me of that day now.

Then came confusion. We sacked off the football to go see High Contrast, but it turned out to be Roni Size. No complaints, it was a fine set. High Contrast was finally on later, and delivered the goods as always, dropping some fierce mixes that heated the tent up in every way possible. It had to be said there was a distinct lack of twats around, an achievement given the result of the match.

Then came what was always going to be my highlight. After years at the front of one of the most important and interesting acts in the country, and pretty much at the top of the I Would list, Kele Okereke is out on his own, and at Parklife he headlined the Now Wave tent with his new live band.

A solo album out any day now and the biggest smile on his face, it was refreshing to see him so relaxed and triumphant. But sad at the same time, as Bloc Party mean so much to me that it’s almost upsetting to hear that he probably was never this happy in that band.

There was a quote from his recent Attitude interview that has stuck in my head. When asked if it was ever discussed how to talk about his sexuality when the band first started out, he replied “the only conversation I can recall, and I remember it well, was...one of the band members told me that he didn’t think I should talk about it right now. Which I found surprising. I never really forgave him for it, to be honest.”

Not helped by his onstage comments about “this band I used to be in”, it’s never nice for the kids when the parents file for divorce, but when Dad’s rocking a new electro sound, we can have a little dance for now. The first few tracks were all from The Boxer, and were minimal and hard. The backing trio alternated between keyboards, electric drums and other devices. Kele was jubilant, his hips moving like never before, gyrating round the mic stand like a massive flirt.

Then we all had a bit of a moment. Blue Light arrived in a greatly altered form, based around a light keyboard refrain, yet still sounding so beautiful. “If that’s the way it is, then that that’s the way it is” will always get to me. But there was little time for sentiment as it morphed into a fuzzy version of The Prayer, which took no time in crashing into One More Chance.

This trilogy of delights dealt with, new single Tenderoni properly took off. “You’ll know it by the end of the summer” he confidently claimed. A cross between Wiley’s Wearing My Rolex and Jack Beat’s Get Down, it’s a bloody tune, and such a statement of intent for a solo career. Lyically similar to Bloc Party, but exploring sound that is now his own.

We got an insight into his way of recording as he built up other songs through looped guitar lines until they built into a heaving sonic mass. One highlight contained the repeated line “I know that you’re stronger than this”, which was either reassurance to a friend or a reminder to himself.

Then came Flux. At last. After being robbed of it at the Engine Shed last year, there it was in all its glory. The last disco at the end of time. I realised just how much I stank. Didn’t care. “We need to talk”. We certainly danced.

There was something very sweet about how the four of them took a bow at the end, arm in arm. Bloc Party may very well be over, and that would be a shame beyond shames. But Kele has arrived. And it really feels like he’s going to get his own way from now on.

So, a perfect set. But could it get any better? How about emerging from the tent to hear the unmistakable sound of Friendly Fires finishing their set with Paris? Talk about perfect timing. We legged it across the field and had one last boogie. Well, the rest of the gang then braved the final moments of the Metropolis tent, which was now pouring out tonnes heat, sweat and smoke, but I was spent.

We were now faced with the journey back, which initially seemed impossible, but after a short walk further up the road and an uncomfortable bus journey full of sweaty young people, we made it back to Piccadilly. Even got a seat on the rammed last train. Fell into bed at 3am. A broken man, but an utterly content one too.

So, Parklife was a perfect start to Festival Season. Next up: Glastonbury.

Optimum Mathleticism

Foals, Leeds Cockpit, 5/10/07

Updates are going to be few and far between here at the moment. We had our house broken into a month ago and my laptop was pinched. Frustrating. Insurance bureaucracy is still causing me to ponce internet access off my housemates every now and again. But in the good news I’ve got and got myself a Proper Job so more gigs are on the cards. Unfortunately the manflu has just struck me down at the moment so I’ll be missing Super Furry Animals tonight and most likely British Sea Power tomorrow. Even had to give up my ticket to Annie Mac on Saturday. Gutted.

Anyway, before crime and the plague got in the way, I saw finally got to see Foals properly. A lost ticket caused most of the supports to be missed. I think we only caught the last three songs of Metronomy, but it was everything you wanted a electrowave support act to be. Catchy blips, giant lights attached to their chests and even a little synchronised dancing towards the end.

Something I’ve noticed about Yorkshire folk – they’re a bit proud of their postcode. Random moments of the evening would be punctuated with shouts of “YOOOORRRRKSHIIIIIIIIRRRRRE” in case we’d fallen asleep and thought we were still in Leicester. My company for the evening was actually from the Shire and just found it irritating.

Yet another over-long sound check later (why? I mean really, why?) and Foals finally shuffled on stage. They are geeks. Yannis stood side-on, rarely acknowledging the crowd with eye contact. What followed was an unrelenting assault in efficient rhythm-heavy Music To Dance To.

Yannis was at his most animated during his quest to climb the speaker stacks, which took three attempts. There was a look of solid and calm determination on his face.

In terms of variation there was nothing. Almost to the extent that theirs is one debut album I am not eagerly anticipating. I can imagine on record this collection of songs could sound quite dull. However, on stage they are brought to life. Equations and remainders, stream lined and tight. Who cares about the lack of variety when what is on show has such powerful rhythm that whatever available appendages can’t help but shake in time.

The songs rush by in haste. The closing triple pronged assault of Mathletics, Two Steps Twice and Hummer create a dance-off of silly proportions. Hummer sees the band disappear in a sea of kids invading the stage. It is undoubtedly their best song and a highlight of recent trips to the indie disco. It must be something to do with the right balance of cowbells, bleeps and shouting.

A closing air of mutual satisfaction. There was dancing for all.