Yuku free message boards

camel wrote:

---

An old music hall in Cincinnati, a sweaty dive with a dirt floor in Memphis, an old theatre in Atlanta, a corporate concert hall masquerading as a credible blues venue in Chicago, an old deco cabaret in Cincinnati; these are all places where I've seen my favorite band. Each show and their attendant journeys are nice chapters in my story. The most recent chapter was Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, a city I've driven AROUND many times but never had cause to visit. Midway through the shakiest financial year of my life, it seemed unlikely that I would be able to catch the band this tour, but the stars lined up just right and I was on my way to a city with three rivers and 446 bridges (the most bridges in a city on this side of the world!).

After a gorgeous meal, my traveling companion and I first caught up with Ann / Could Be Anyone, an old friend of mine and devoted fan of the Church. We had seen Marty together in a boho bar in Atlanta some years ago and the Church in Chicago. We shuttled to the Rex Theatre on Pittsburgh's south side. It was an old neighborhood / shopping district which didn't always have sidewalks glutted with drinking revelers. Gone are those men in hats and overcoats, but that's another story. The Rex is nice mid-sized theatre which is now an unapologizing rock club. Lots of black paint and old flyers cover the walls. The gorgeous brunette requisite rock chick served drinks at the bar.
We caught up with John 'Chad' Black and Freida. One from Atlanta, one from mid-eastern Kentucky, both had traveled many miles to see them not only Pittsburgh but also Cleveland the night before. We saw Holly from Ohio (another traveler). We staked a spot close to center stage and awaited the opening act (Adam Franklin - Bolts of Melody?).

The opening group played a pair of lovely Jazzmasters through expensive amps. And they played f-ing loud. They played so loud that all the detail of the sound was lost in the fuzz and grind. I'm a musician and semi-regular performer, so it's hard for me to watch a band without being critical or jaded. That is to say, it's hard to impress me cos I'm in the same game as these guys. If I covered both of my ears -and tightly- I could hear the vocals; guy had a nice voice too. They were oblivious to the audience's presence and never once made eye contact. I guess shoegaze never died. Volume issues aside, they played well and delivered a nice My Bloody Valentine / Afghan Whigs / Mazzy Star type sound which was more pleasant than not.

I felt a hand on my shoulder; it was Terry whom I had met in Chicago. So nice to see her again and catch up! She squeezed into our zone and opted to see the show with us.

Then the Church took the stage. Stage left, Marty. Center stage, Steve. Stage right, Peter. Mission control, Tim. The crew, each of them musicians, did a fabulous job routing cables, guitar tuning and switching, etc. As always Marty's pedals looked as if they fell out of a sack and were plugged in where they landed while Peter's were aligned like the Terra Cotta Army. With little pause, and a teasing series of chugs from MWP's Ric 370/12, they launched into 'Tantalised'. Great to hear a show-stopper at the start of the night! The volumes were still extreme but the mix was better. We were blasted by Marty's Orange and Matchless amps, but we could hear all the instruments well and even the backing vocals were audible. It's nice to hear how a song such as 'Tantalised' has evolved over the years. The continent-hopping multi-lingual artiste known as Marty Willson-Piper looks like a wildman these days with his wild mop of hair and dense beard, but his joy of performing has never been more evident. His eyes flashed and he smiled throughout the set. Peter played beautifully; I have never seen him performed less-than perfectly to this day. Both guitarist played intensely and delicately as the songs required. It seems sometimes MWP is swinging a battle axe while PK delivers blows with a rapier, but both are deadly. Volumes have already been written about the Church guitarists and there's little I can add which is new.

Tim played with his now trademark intensity and dexterity. I've seen a thousand rock shows and NO ONE plays like Tim. He can be as primal and nasty as he needs to be then turn on a dime and sound like two drummers and a percussionist, playing with a maraca, a tambourine, and a stick in ONE hand. What has always impressed me about Tim is that he is ALWAYS listening, always giving direction to the sound guy. He is a juggernaught of a drummer and at the same time he is listening -clinically.

Steve Kilbey stood in the center of the stage with his Fender bass slung round his neck. The front of the bass looks new still which the back shows evidence of countless shows on three continents. What can be said of SK in 2009. First -he looks great. He is in great form physically and energy comes out of him. Secondly -his voice sounds better now than it has at any other time in his storied career. I was knocked out by the vocals. Thirdly -he is playing the bass with a different intensity than I've seen before. He seems much more connected to his instrument now. Forget muscle memory, he is PLUGGED IN.

As the Church do now, instruments were swapped throughout the show. MWP played his own melodic bass parts on a lovely 80s Rickenbacker 4003 with a PERFECT fireglo finish. The two different basses suited the different playing styles of SK and MWP. When Pete & Marty sang backing harmonies, they sang them exceptionally well. Tim's voice was not very loud in Pittsburgh, sadly. Steve's voice cut through all night. PK played his Strats, his baritone, and his little Maton 12-string. What struck me was how much meaner some songs sounded live. The album version of 'Deadman's Hand' sounds lush and sweet, but live it is vicious! Steve played the riff with a tinge of fuzz, right on the beat so it sounded aggro and dangerous. Perfect! 'Space Saviour' takes on a dirty glam-meets-garage incarnation in the show. 'Pangea' is note perfect and evidences why this band cannot be imitated, while 'Happenstance' bears a definite Floyd influence one must bear in mind that Floyd STOPPED creating new sounds a long, long time ago (opting instead to be psychedelic jukeboxes sucking up the million$), here is the Church taking the space rock over The Wall and beyond.

Terry was dancing like a high school girl and I realized that I too was no longer a jaded muso watching another rock show. I was a joy-filled listener and, well, FAN. Sometimes I closed my eyes and took it all in, other times I couldn't keep still. It was great to be moved by a show, to be equally impressed with the musicianship and quality of songwriting, to feel I was in the presence of OLD FRIENDS and TEACHERS on stage, to be in the crowd with great friends, and to know I am plugged into the best music being made.

They may never play 'Laughing', 'June', or 'Ricochet' in concert -but I won't complain so long as they play songs like 'Operetta' (which was the highlight of the night for me). I think it was the end of 'Hotel Womb' which morphed into a tribal drums and bass motif which sounded so dark and menacing. PK locked into the groove while Marty played an ascending part on his 50s Fender which sounded like ghosts being called up from the grave. It was intense music.

After the show we posed for some photos. The UTMW fans straightened their tucked-in polos and made for the cabs. People swarmed the merch counter. I ordered a Newcastle from the bar and lingered in the foyer with Ann, Allison, John, and Freida. MWP and Tim entered, all smiles and were mobbed by fans. I met two lovely fans (hats off to Andrea and Lee!). A few minutes later SK emerged, a huge smile on his face (and a dry shirt on his back). A queue formed immediately; people posed for photos, hugged, and had this or that autographed. It occurs to me that I've never once asked anyone for an autograph. Drunk Girl clung to SK. He graciously peeled her away so others could say hello. Allison had some SK prints autographed. Drunk Girl grabbed me a bit roughly and stated, "You're from Denmark." Freida was hugged. I stepped up to Steve and handed him a CD copy of the rare / out-of-print Paddy McAloon (writer/guitarist of Prefab Sprout) 'I Trawl the Megahertz' (written when Paddy's eyes were injured, when he couldn't compose with a guitar or piano). He may or may not enjoy, but I find it a delicious, transporting piece of music with a wonderful spoken word over a luscious sound bed of guitars, flugelhorn, etc. I tucked a John Jorgenson Quintet disc in with Paddy too (everyone likes some Django Gypsy Jazz). I told Steve that 'Operetta' was the highlight of the show for me. Other fans leaned close, trying to say hello. I took photos for Andrea and Lee. There was a battered old piano in the corner and I wanted desperately to play it.

About five minute later Steve came over and said, "You're Noel, Noel Riddell." I'll be smiling for days picturing him replicating my infamous nipple picture pose.

It was a great night. Ann, Allison, and I climbed into a cab and ended the evening with drinks and conversation in a corner booth of our hotel bar.