I worked it out that I see Laurie Anderson every two years – what a lucky guy am I. “The End of the Moon” is the second of a trilogy of works by Anderson that began with “Happiness”, which I saw at the Barbican back in 2003. The latest performance piece features many different ideas about science and beauty and art and looking up. The stage is sparse with an old leather chair which is used to tell a couple of stories, a projector and Anderson’s musical rig which is her pulpit for the majority of the show. Around the stage there was about a hundred candles flickering and dancing, creating a very calm effect. Almost a sea of stars on the stage. The narrative thread is provided by Anderson’s employment as NASA’s “Artist in Residence” and she goes on to talk about why the guys at the Hubble Space telescope make the pictures of far-off stars psychedelic rather than try and get a realistic model of the stars (“well we think the people would like them that colour) to how new intelligent space suits that have been developed aren’t being sent into space, but being sent out to be used in desert warfare.
The mood of this piece is much darker than “Happiness” and I was left feeling a little bit down. But that’s not to say it is a miserable piece, there’s much to laugh at and Anderson’s use of language is both hypnotic and, in places, unnecessarily verbose. However, the quality of the stories shine through from tales of duetting with an owl in Italy to walks in the woods with her dog Lollabelle and the canine’s subsequent discovery that danger can come from the air. Yup, looking up is the theme of the piece. Looking at the moon, looking at turkey vultures swooping down on Lollabelle, looking at the Twin Towers falling…looking up. Danger can come from anywhere.
Interspersed between these monologues there’s Anderson musical pieces played out on the violin. Very often these are solo, sometimes accompanied by a backing track. This time around she used a harmonizer and delay effect on a couple of the performances to create a twin violin duet with herself. The music was very strong and it certainly broke up the stories and kept you interested in what was going on.
The performance itself is about 90 minutes long and it is a totally solo performance with Anderson operating the backing music, cameras and some of the lighting herself. That’s without all the dialogue. It’s a very involving show and if you get the chance to catch it, please do. It’ll send you out of the theatre thinking and looking up.
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Coincidence is a funny thing. Throughout my life, I have noticed that coincidence (or “fate” or synchronicity) is a powerful and unexpected force. One of the more memorable incidences of coincidence happened when I was around 13 years old and I was with my grandmother visiting the grave of my recently deceased great-grandmother. In the cemetary, who should I spy but my errant father, the woman he left my mother for and the child they recently had together being wheeled in a buggy. As you can imagine, this was a smack in the chops and almost made me vomit on the spot. When you break it down, I suppose the chances were there, but considering that he lived in Kent, me in East London and we were visiting two separate graves in a cemetary that covered quite a large distance, it always leaves me a bit gobsmacked that our paths could ever cross. Ever since then, I’ve always been aware of the power of coincidence.
Take for example, my return journey from Las Vegas. While waiting to board the plane, I noticed my old boss of 2000/1 in the queue. In fact, he stood right beside me and we made eye contact, but being a completely faceless, chameleon-like chap, he totally failed to recognise me. And the coincidence? Well we were on the same place and sitting in the same row…number 42. I’d pre-booked my seats. I was in 42E and he was in 42A. That’s coincidence for you. Spooky, eh?
Tonight – Laurie Anderson at the Barbican. Let’s hope that the tube behaves itself this time…
With all the transatlantic travel, the body clock is a little up in the air at the moment. Here’s a picture of us on our hols:
In the post: VDGG tix to Shepherds Bush Empire.
I was never going to see Elvis play Las Vegas, so I settled for the next best thing in the shape of Tom Jones. Yes, Tom is a guilty pleasure. He’s been around for ages and still manages to produce the odd fluke hit every decade. Even if you don’t like him, you have to admire his tenacity and longevity.
This was my first Las Vegas show and I was very excited. Me and the Missus got to the venue with minutes to spare (thanks to the terrible traffic along the strip) and were ushered to our seats. Drinks were being served at our table so we got a couple of beers and some pretzels. Then the introductory music began and the curtains opened and there was Tom.
The gig was incredibly loud for a small venue such as the MGM Grand (it was much louder than the recent Musical Box show we saw) and it certainly rattled the bones. But we were there and were behind the music. We got what we wanted…all the old hits “Delilah”, “Green Green Grass of Home”, “It’s Not Unusual”. “What’s New Pussycat?” and newer tunes like “Kiss” and my personal fave “If I Only Knew”.
The performance was superb and for a sixty-four year old, Tom is in fine form. He still has “THE VOICE” and I feel lucky to have heard two fantastic vocalists in the space of a week, even though there are from completely different genres and generations.
We got very excited by the show and made lots of noise and cheered at the appropriate moments. Highlight for us was the point where a lady in the front row fanned Tom’s crotch with her drinks menu, much to the consternation of her husband.
As Tom said, “We don’t plan any of this, you know!”
Afterwards, an American fellow asked if I had enjoyed the gig, knowing full well that it was me and The Missus making all the hullabaloo in the row. I grabbed him by the hand, shook it fiercely and told him I was British and that I had been born to enjoy the show.
Oh well, another lifetime ambition achieved…what next, eh? 🙂
5000+ miles from home and it’s really bloody difficult to write an entry with a keyboard balanced on your knee as you sit on the edge of the hotel room bed. It’s taken me 15 minutes to get this far…
Jet-lag is bad this time but what can you do. Tomorrow night, I have an appointment with Mr Jones. Oh yes, boyo!
I feel stiff and achy and I am still suffering the physical side effects of last night’s gig. That’s never happened before. It feels like I’ve been run over by a steam roller.
During the night, I had a dream. I rarely have/remember dreams, but this time my nocturnal adventures were inspired by VDGG. Basically, I followed David Jackson riding a bicycle and found myself invited to tea by Peter Hammill with some other fans. In my dream, I told him how much I enjoyed his music and the concert. I don’t remember anything else. I think custard creams were served. 🙂
Track-list (though songs might be missing and in the wrong order because I am still giddy like a schoolgirl whose first crush has just invited her to the prom).
Undercover Man
Scorched Earth
Refugees
Every Bloody Emperor
Lemmings
Nutter Alert
Darkness (11/11)
(In The) Black Room
Masks
Childlike Faith in Childhood’s End
The Sleepwalkers
Man-erg
Encore:
Killer
Wondering
I arrived fashionably late to the concert. Don’t get me wrong, I started on my journey two hours before the gig started and it should have took me around an hour door to door, but the Jubilee line decided to stop working and I had to back-track fast, using my knowledge of the rat-run tunnels at Bank station to get to the Waterloo & City. Suffice to say, I broke some kind of landspeed record by getting from Stratford to Waterloo in around 24 minutes.
Anyway, the Missus met me inside the venue and the bells were sounding ushering people into the concert hall. I was already excited, but now I had the added rush of adrenaline from hurtling across town. I could have murdered a drink, but with no time before the start, I settled for a boiled sweet of indeterminable flavour provided by The Missus. Like a dromedary, I used my own moisture content to overcome the “thirst”.
The band came on stage at about 7.45pm to a standing ovation. Hey, even I stood up and they took their places and launched into “The Undercover Man”. Wow…I’d never seen VDGG perform live before and was instantly stuck by the power. The second song up was “Scorched Earth” and by now the hairs on the back of my neck stood up on end. It was an intense experience, it was like a force of nature smacking you in the chest. At one point, I thought I was going to die…that’s how fucking powerful the music was.
The band shifted gear with “Refugees” before pulling out a track from the new album in the shape of “Every Bloody Emperor” which stood up quite well amongst the old stuff. Hey, I even got to sing a long. Then there was a surprise, pH introduced the next song and by the introduction, I knew what it was…it was “In the Black Room”. Sweet. I love that song from his solo album and it was amazing to hear the band tear it up and inject it with that patented VDGG energy.
Now, my memory is getting hazy because I was very carried away with the music. I was just in the middle of it completely, so I might forget songs or pull them up in the wrong order. I remember a particularly intense version of Lemmings, which just tore my head off and vomited in the stump. The band played another track from “Present” and this time it was “Nutter Alert” getting an airing. Again, it worked better than the album version and pH injected more fire into it. I was completely knocked back by the two tracks from Pawn Hearts, which were absolutely vicious in their delivery.
The selection of songs were great and I was surprised just how many of them I was familiar with – I didn’t think I was THAT much of a VDGG fan. Wrong. I am a really big fan…an even bigger fan now. OK – the band were a little sloppy in places missing cues and that, but who cares. The energy was there. Hammill is just THE VOICE. That guy could shred phonebooks with that set of lungs and David Jackson is something else. Never seen him play before and it was a real treat. A flute, two saxes at once? No problem. Though after one particularly aggressive solo he stood too near to a microphone and I heard him gasping for breath. I thought the poor old sod was going to snuff it. Then there is Guy Evans…what a powerhouse. If he’d have played the drums with the Schizoid Band, he’d have blown them away. His bass drum alone was causing palpitations in my chest! And then there was steady, reliable Hugh Banton, delivering the goods and then pulling out a blistering solo. My god, it was one of the most amazing gig experiences I’ve had.
To say that I am tired and emotional would be an understatement. I knew I would enjoy the concert, but I didn’t realise that VDGG would grab me by the scruff of the neck, rattle me around, hold me over a precipice and leave me dangling there screaming for my life. Amazing. Hammill is great solo, but he is amazing with those three guys behind him. What a team.
Amazing…my heart is still thumping in my chest with excitement.