My Bloody Valentine at the Enmore Theatre, 18 Feb 2013.
Verbatim I-phone note, with setlist courtesy of http://www.setlist.fm
Enmore Road. Rainbow. Omen? 20 + years since Phoenician club.
20 kilos and grey hair, kids and mortgages. Swimmer’s ear.
So young. Keating about to be PM and Warne just about to debut.
A gig that continues to divide people. Some if us loved it! Most hated it. And have long memories…
Grunge was just around the corner anyway. As was PJ Harvey
Say no to nostalgia? Some worth the wait. Chills were not. Anyway, almost Valentines Day and there are small bars on Enmore Rd, the kids sleep. Onwards!
Fuck! Free earplugs at the door. You have been warned.
I only said.
When you sleep. Earplugs let you hear the great rock song under the noise
New You. Unknown – nice lights. Harmonies comprised of honey and mud. I get the name, now.
You never should. Fast and furious. Big kick in the middle. Crowd not really moving. Big fat distorted riff and sweet vocals by Bilinda. Coda.
Cigarette in your bed. Brilliant red lights. Acoustic. Slow and soft. Off EP. Huge harmony. Big guitar. Then soft again. Speed up near the end. Military drum.
Come in alone. Intro like an elk on heat. Slower than album. Drums almost funeral march. Like Mazzy Star record left in the sun. Heads starting to bob Ears starting to throb
Only Shallow. Loveless opener. Beginning to remember why it was such a great song. Feel it in my pancreas. Ripping me a vulva with the kickdrum and bass. Hensonesque video backdrop. They are not distorted. It’s the rest of the world. Deep in your body you know this rhythm. Peristalsis. Crowd up and at ’em
Much louder upstairs. Savage. Like the loud Singapore 767 that haunts my evenings.
Nothing much to lose. Except my hearing.
To here knows when. Dirge. With butterflies. Repetitive but intensely complex. Sort of Bach with bite.
Soon. Bumping into old friends and colleagues. Cancer. Survivor. Celebrate. Good version but can’t match the record.
Feed me with your kiss. Yes please.
Some complaints about the vocals. What vocals!?
You made me realise. Smackdown. Then meteor explodes inside the Enmore. People run for cover. Hailstorm inside your house. A tonal tsunami. Tarantino geysers of blood from ears. Just keeps coming, sound rolled around with debris and cars and mud and fish and Lucy. After about 4 minutes of white noise even I’m starting to grumble. Paid $100 to be whipped when can get it for free. On freecycle. 8 minutes. Have to wait now. The payoff must be incredible. 12 minutes. Done. Run. Yes no maybe no yes yes YES!
Not as good as 91. Neither am I, Warney or Keating. Mbv arguably aging the best.
Walking home. Jupiter almost inside the moon. Sums it up. Astral collision. Optical illusion. Once in a lifetime. Second time lucky.