On this day. . . 31 July 2005.
On this day exactly a year ago, I saw both Arctic Monkeys and Test Icicles; same day, different concerts. And just before both bands truly took off.
First act of the day was Arctic Monkeys, with whom I was having a sit down chat for my rapidly apparent ill-fated magazine Toaster. As drummer Matt sauntered around the venue pointing out all the signs that had misspelled their name (skipping the first 'c' in arctic) their cock-sure attitude made itself apparent quickly, but with little indication of what was soon to await in terms of attention. We took a seat in their van, sitting with bassist Andy. Asking them both questions over the course of a half an hour, Matt answered them all, with Andy chiming in once or twice, only for Matt to restate exactly what he'd just said. Andy seemed content in that, staying fully involved, even if only on the sidelines.
We then took five disastrous/ miraculous photos, disastrous in the fact that once all were united their attitude went beyond cock sure, and became not stand-offish, but something similar as they became quick to critique and eventually just walk away (in Jamie's case). Wanna read exactly what happened? Check my old blog
And miraculous in the fact that one got picked up by NME for a half page feature, earning me a desperately needed 150 pounds three months later.
All with a shitty (after I got my hands on it) little 3.1 megapixel camera I borrowed from a friend. Wanna pretend to be a photographer? It's that easy. Now I have a good camera and all, but that 3.1 with a 30 second delay in between photos got me in NME again, Vice, and the Test Icicles album booklet. No one took it seriously, hence my upgrade.
I immediately went down to the internet cafe to vent about the interaction over email with Carrie and send the shots off to NME who I hadn't communicated with since November. I was thinking whether or not I should still see them as I had never been in that situation with a band before-them being that rude.
Before the show that night, their tour manager alerted me that there was someone else attempting to get on that night's guest list using Toaster as the backing publication. He kept him on.
I did go and since I had a plus one and no one to go with, I put a postcard at the bar with my mobile number for anyone who wanted one. No one took up the offer until about four songs in I got a text.
The show was unlike anything I had ever witnessed-hysteria in a controlled environment-
girls pulling out their hair, screaming until delirious, tears in their eyes and fully in response to the music as let's be honest, the band aren't really anything to write home about looks wise, or at least they weren't then-no one was paying attention to anything but the music.
The audience sang along to every single word-this is before first single, before the non-stop NME coverage, just solely based on the internet and I was expecting excitement, but not to the extrememist levels I witnessed and just the singing along to every word to songs that had never even made their way onto radio.
The dedication was wholly unbelievable.
I tried explaining the scene to Jamin and Rhys in a hotel room after a similar event at a Be Your Own Pet concert months later, but I wasn't able to articulate the differences, that while subtle, did exist, and what I attempted to describe sounded just as though I was describing their show, but their was somethign different between the Arctic Monkey crow and the Be Your Own Pet crowd. I'd say a lot of it had to do with the interaction between the crowd and th eband. With Be Your Own Pet, the audience seemed fully involved in the show; while not on stage, the audience's excitement was partially responsible for inciting the band and further fueling their live show as opposed to Arctic Monkeys, who didn't seem to be noticably feeinf off the frenzied energy. Just performing int he same way they would at any venue, in front of any crowd, whether or not they were screaming, with a very controled demenor-the exact opposite of that of their crowd.
If turned black and white, it would be hard to discern whether it was Beatlemania of the 60's or Arctic Monkeys mania.
At the end, the security were grabbing girls by the seat of their pants (as in underwear) and skirts, attempting to over haul the dicapitated stage area and legions more climbing over barriers in attempt to grab much a coveted set list (I got one, but not in that manner)
At a show a few nights later, I began speaking with a security guard from that night, and he said a security meeting was called right after the concert and it was discussed that King Tut's did not enough security, even though it was the most security the venue had ever had for a concert.
The band escaped out the back door as I ran down to the Clyde river to catch Test Icicles midnight show at the Deathkill 4000 club night at the Barfly.
I got there just in time as they took to the upstairs stage (played by Arctic Monkeys a few months earlier at a show that I hadn't managed to get guest listed for) and it soon became apparent that wow!-this was going to be way different than Arctic Monkeys. First Dev's and Sam's shared pink guitar blew, so there was a pause while they tried to fix it. Shortly after they cranked the keyboard, which Sam then played with his foot in an attempt to replace the ailing guitar I guess . . . Meanwhile, all along the ipod (though it sounded like a shitty tape) with their backing bass and drums was skipping.
Singing out of key to the nth degree, while wandering around on stage as if they didn't want to be there, it just continued to get worse and worse to the point where not only could you not laugh with them, you couldn't even manage to laugh at them it was so bad. I typically imagine most awkward situations as cable access-like you're supposed to laugh at them, but the situation was too brutal for that-they were just SO bad! Soon Raary's guitar began to act up and was ditched while Dev spent ten minutes questioning the assembled audience of over 40 about their musical tastes in relation to Lil' Jon and MCR (new record October 24th!) They then got it together enough to play 'Catch It' after which Sam stepped to the front of the stage and instructed the audience to clap as he did so himself unenthusiastically. So many times I thought they should've just stopped, packed it in, and called it a day due to all the problems as opposed to muddy their previous and future perceptions to the audience that was there. Rather than spoil their opinion of you with this bad gig, just stop and reschedule. They barely managed to play four shittastic songs out of a thirty minute set.
I left completely unfulfilled, but having witnessed two performances I wouldn't forget. I was completely unaware of what I had just witnessed of Test Icicles. Instead of being all the things I thought they should be, they were the complete opposite-which is exactly as they should be! Why go to see a show and get exactly what you were expecting-a show that any band could perform. There are a lot of concerts I leave thinking "wow-that was a great show," but if each band had the exact same set list to one and other, there would be little to differentiate the sets, as the set list would likely play to creating the same audience interaction. Test Icicles performed a show only they could perform. Test Icicles also completely did their own thing more so than other band I have ever seen, and probably ever will see as there show was different in every single way to every rock show I've seen. While I can come back from Be Your Own Pet in Glasgow and say: "That's the best most energetic live show I will see in the next 20 years" their show would still not be as different to other live shows as Test Icicles, because one-they performed songs as most rock shows do, and with Test icicles they threw everything away that a show "should" be made of and completely did their own thing. They went the opposite route than Arctic Monkeys did earlier in creating an unforgettable show.
(You also became instantly personally invested in them, as many of their fans seemed to be-seemingly buying tickets to shows, just to have a chance at witnessing new lows as did sections of attendees who were clearly fans)
Months later I would be the new employee at Scottish Power's Cathcart campus and my trainer would acknowledge that he too had been at that performance, though he took much more anyway from it than I initially did-apparently loving every moment, which I do now.
The next day, going over the Test Icicles photos with Leigh, we noticed how one would be looking like they were on the brink of suicide in the background of every photo, but their shows only continued to be as haphazard, insanely and pathetically reaching the realm of greatness.
Only in reflection did I realize the brilliance of their performance.
Wanna read the myspace blog entry I wrote the very next day? Excerpted after the jump
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