Sunday 24 July 2016

The Pet Shop Boys

I didn't tip my toe back into the world of live music, I dived head first into the abyss...naked!  

The Pet Shop Boys - Inner Sanctum
The Royal Opera House - July 20th 2016

I don't know quite where to begin with this crazy, incongruous night!  On a really hot summer's evening in London I found myself doing the ultimate in Billy-No-Mates moments and taking out a small mortgage to buy myself a G&T at the amphitheatre bar of the Royal Opera House.  I considered striking up a conversation with the guys beside me at the bar, but as they were hotly debating the exact release date (I mean exact) of every PSB single, I felt that my contribution of 'I really love It's a Sin' might not cut it.

The show began with two huge arses!  I'm sorry, but am I the ONLY person who saw those giant orbs, lit in a peachy glow as two perfectly formed bottoms?  Just me then.  But the crowd went wild when Neil Tennant and Chris Lowe emerged in metal, lattice-work head gear from the revolving bottoms grabbed our hands and leapt
down the rabbit hole.

It was an extraordinary production, a dazzling light and sound fusion.  The effervescent Neil Tennant with the pure and oh-so-distinctive vocals belying his age, incongruously matched with a mute Chris Lowe.  It was a near seamless blending of old and new bound together by the pop kids anthem, without a hint of irony pop kids we were, we are and we always shall be.

I cannot tell a lie, there was a definite period from Dictator Decides  which would have been my GTB period (go to bar) had I not been hemmed in by Stuart from Wolverhampton and two entirely giddy, gay, pop kids with their hands in the air like they don't care.  The music was pure electronic dance and the light show so fantastical that the stage was obscured from the balcony, and this lyric driven dance happy girl was a bit lost (can I refer you back to 'I really love It's a Sin')  But with Home & Dry, Neil returned me to the fold.

Everything from It's a Sin (Have I told you.....) was a giant party.  Throwing vertigo to the wind we got to our feet and stayed there for the rest of the set with added copious amounts of cheesy pointing for Go West.

The Boys are brilliant, without doubt; clever and witty with a production that could take down the National Grid.   They have serious gravitas, more Kraftwerk than Ross in Friends  yet they are saved from pretentiousness from their sheer love of their distinctive brand of pop music and the absurdity of dancers in inflatable neon suits.

I went alone but left with an opera house of Besties.  As a wise Swede once said to me 'You're never truly alone at a PSB gig.'

Setlist

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Friday 1 July 2016

Champagne, Cocaine, Gasoline.



This is the tale of a dance happy daughter, my daughter Arden, as beautiful as the day and poised at the cusp of her life's musical journey.  She spurns music which has been designed with her precious adolescence in mind, no One Direction or Justin Bieber for her, but rather what she assures me is the Holy trinity of Emo


My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
So, when I discovered, back in December, that Panic! at the Disco were playing one night in the UK, which was entirely sold out, I prepared to sell my very soul to the Devil to ensure that I would be mother of the year on christmas day.  


All hail Dance Happy Tiger Mother.


And this is what happiness looks like...




So, on a freezing cold night, I got to accompany my daughter to her first ever gig.  


Panic! At The Disco - Brixton Academy  - 12th January 2016
(Arden tells me, regularly,  that there is a special place in hell reserved for those who on it the exclamation mark)

We arrived in Brixton 2 hours before the doors opened, my plan was to park and then eat!  However, the queue already wrapped around several sides of the 02 Brixton  with the front runners having been there for several hours, wrapped up in duvets and blankets and it was obvious that we were going to have to engage our British heritage and queue.  It was a good natured queue, young, I'd put the average age at 17, underdressed and buzzing with excitement.  Arden looked as though she'd been lit up from inside. 



I'd briefly left the queue on a chocolate finding mission, leaving arden in the care of 2 impossibly pretty teenagers,when Brendon Urie, the soul remaining original member of P!atD poked his head out of a window.  Hearing screams of en masse hysteria from 2 blocks away, when you have left your 12 year old daughter standing in a dark alley in Brixton is something no mother should ever have to hear.  



Thanks to the o2 priority queue we were able to get in quickly and as arden is under 14 we made for the balcony and nabbed seats in the second row.  Not bad considering that we were only one row behind one of the duvet girls who had been outside for 8 hours.

I don't think that I can adequately describe how it was to watch the night unfold through my daughters eyes.  It was overwhelming, I was reminded of just how young and new she is and I was relieved to have her in a seat in the balcony.

The support was Charley Marley, an uneasy mix of children's party entertainer and wannabe gangsta.  He wore the ubiquitous EMO black skinnies and jumped around a lot  'A jack-in-a-box, a jack-in-a-box springs high but never shows his socks'  But he fed off the feverish excitement of the crowd and performed with complete commitment and energy.  It was later in the evening that I recognised him for what he is, a
Brendon Urie.

Brendon Urie however is a force of nature.  He has spent the last ten years seeing off the other members of Panic! at the disco until he is it and it is he.  The rousing Emperor's New Clothes is his diatribe of taking control and grasping the 'crown' creative and artistic control and he is, without doubt a narcissistic, maniacal, control freak.  Throughout the set he played every instrument, back flipped from the drum kit riser employing every possible technique to ensure that every member of the audience fell a little bit in love with him and we did.  

Brendan Urie seems like the real deal. The best of EMO with undeniable punk roots.  This was a roller coaster ride of Urie's influences from Queen, Bowie and The B52s to Sinatra and The Beach Boys.   
He's a wordsmith, spinning vivid tales of debauched nights out and the authenticity of you currently just pipe dreams to the young, passionate audience before him.
She said at night in my dreams
You dance on a tightrope of weird
Oh but when I wake up
You're so normal that you just disappear.

And yes, the boy can sing!


I loved every crazy hedonistic, narcissistic moment, am I gushing, yes I am, but I'm definitely 'not as think as you drunk I am'

Monday 7 March 2016

The Day the Music Died.

The last few months have been devoid of music and there have been no words to adequately explain the devastating loss felt by myself & my family at the inexplicable death of my sister's son, my funny, fit & healthy nephew james, aged 18 years old.

'Dance happy' had no meaning, as we struggled to find a way to make sense of a world that can take someone as beloved as our James, without warning.



















I cancelled all the gigs that I had planned to go to and music, a constant backdrop to my life, was switched off.  

















I would like to thank the people that held me up; the patient, quiet people who knew that I would turn the music on again one day.  It was my great friend and drinking partner of old, Jolyon Roberts, who took me out into the world to see Billy Bragg at The Union Chapel.  I remember too little of the night to attempt to review it, but I was there and it felt safe and beautiful and I will always be grateful.

Seal and Duran Duran at the O2 was too much too soon, the people, the noise, the palpable stench of peri-menopausal hormones scared me.  It was so extreme that its exuberance shut me out.  So despite earning the nickname 'Princess Di' from my brother in law in my teens for our shared love of the Duran boys, I couldn't stay long and only Wild Boys raised a smile.


It's still one day at a time, but slowly I'm letting the music back in, my daughter fills the house with music and sometime I even sing along.  It's not over.

Love, like music, never dies.



Tuesday 1 September 2015

Rewind

Where on earth do I begin?


Rewind is the spiritual home of the Dance Happy Girls - it was our first ever festival together, it is our annual pilgrimage back to our youth, so this will be an entirely biased view of a festival that we love and that does just about everything right.




Rewind is unique, not for this festival the 'first time away from home-ers', the youngsters, the beautiful people in impossibly short shorts and quirky wellies.  Rewind is the home of 40 and 50 somethings, pretending to be 17.  It is awash with neon and lace, ra ra skirts and blue eyeshadow.  You are far more likely to bump into...and dance with, a BeetleJuice, an Inspector gadget or a Top Gun hero than a hipster or a student.  It is a celebration of the absurd, an affectionate nod to the decade that taste forgot, all human life is here and I love every downright daft moment.

Daisy Duke is all grown up.

Friday night is party night; campers and weekend ticket holders can rock up and dance to live bands, boogie at the roller disco, try out the plethora of food and start the weekend long drink binge.  Sadly, this year, Friday night was the weakest aspect of Rewind.  The absolutely awesome Junior Guevara who usually hold court in the big top tent were missing in action, the queues at the bar were enormous, and Paul Young's band Los Pacaminos were an uninspired choice for a welcoming act.  Most of the festival goers were hoping that he could be goaded into singing some of his 80s hits, whilst the few that were at inaugural Rewind (of which I am one) were hoping on all that is holy that he wouldn't. 

The silent disco however was, and is, a diamond event.  
For the uninitiated


As much a spectator sport as a participation event, it is all that is kitsch and silly.  






Best moment was when my channel played the conga.  


I joined the hip swaying, leg kicking, line of neon clad revellers, grabbing shy individuals in my path and pulling them into line, so that they wouldn't miss out.  At the end, I released the man in front who turned to me with a grin, pulled off his headphones and said "I was listening to Michael Jackson - What the hell did you have on?"

This wasn't a stella Friday night.  I felt that we were being punished for over enthusiastic table dancing in previous years and there were very few places to sit.  This is a real pain when you are trying to eat festival food in a box - it took ages to get a drink and the live music didn't have the pizazz that we have come to expect.  But these are the niggles of someone who has been every year.  There was still fun to be had and loo paper in plentiful supply.

Saturday morning dawned in the most spectacular way and this dance happy girl donned electric blue leg warmers and a Don't you want me T-shirt for a run along the river.  I discovered 2 things 1) that 4 hours sleep and imbibing your own body weight in cider does NOT make for a sprightly run.
2) It is absolutely gorgeous along the towpath, heading away from rewind.  And I really should visit one day - sober.  


The real draw of rewind is the music, and this begins at 2pm on Saturday.  People who say that they don't like 80s music are, in my opinion, batshit crazy, in the same way as people who don't like cheese. 80s music was a stir fry of style and genre and there is something for everyone;  disco and punk, new romantic, pop, dance, ska, synth, soul and rock.  Rewind 2015 just about had it all.








  








  


Did I enjoy every act - nope.  
At risk of doing my 80s stir fry analogy to death, every dish has its water chestnuts and Black Box, Belinda Carlisle, Soul II Soul and T'pau were mine.  But without these we would starve to death or have to pee where we stood.

Saturday highlights for this dance happy girl were..

Slim Jim Phantom
For sheer rockabilly joy and Stray Cat Strut.

Billy Ocean

The wise old man of rewind, so loved and revered by the crowd.  Gave it warmth and energy and had the audience in the palm of his hand.


Go West 
Began with a squeeze from Richard Dummie and ended with poptastic brilliance.  I'd love a new cover now though boys, you do Sex on Fire so well, but I think you're holding out on us.


OMD
These guys are quality!    You must KNOW you've got a great set to risk coming on to your best known number, but they did and they did!

I defy you not to dance, and as the dancing on the stage is akin to dad dancing on acid, you can feel assured that you are actually fantastic!  You didn't need to know every song to dance like a loon for the entire set.  I was at this point on a table making occasional lunges for Evel Knievel to ensure that I didn't dance right off the edge.


Honorary dance happy girls Evel Knieval, Paul & Mark



I've had Tesla girls as my ear worm for a week 'NO NO NO' and as sharing is caring...




OMD...OMG!!!  



The Dance Happy Girls are papped





Sunday always has a more subdued feel at the beginning.  Everyone feeling that afternoon after the night before feeling.


But we were eased into the day by Hue and Cry and their relentless search for Lynda.

This was something of a 'die happy' day for us both.  Joy came early for me in the form of The Selecter.  I love ska and the Black/ 'Gaps' combination is just joyful.  I left the rarified air of the VIP enclosure to get up close and personal and party with the ruuuuuuuude boys

Dance Happy Hint
Number 17

When you meet your ska heroes why not make a hamster face and do jazz hands?

You're welcome (groan)


BEF and their synth sound is what stirs Janie's heart and they were on next with a pretty epic line up featuring Robin Scott (M), Thomas Dolby, Eddi Reader (Fairground Attraction), Peter Hook (New Order), Shingai Shoniwa (The Noisettes) and of course Glenn Gregory from Heaven 17  If there is a song that sums up rewind, surely it is....


The Queen of Hearts isn't just a poker song - it's MY poker song.  Hearing it live from the mouth of Dave bodes well for my poker game this winter.




He followed it with 'I hear you Knocking' and 'I knew the Bride when she used to rock n roll' with chutzpah in every chord.  LOVED IT!!! The rather wonderful 'Girl Talk' was missing in action, so I include it here but Dave Edmunds I love you.  That is all.


The day couldn't get any better....or could it.  HELL YES!  

There are several perks to a VIP ticket at rewind; shorter queues for a drink; flushing toilets, a table to dance on and often a few musicians floating around for a quick stealthie.  Usually the dance happy girls are above such things and steadfastly ignore the gaggle worshipping at the feet of the famous and almost rans.  But I was prepared to make an exception for one of the great loves of my adolescence, little Nik Kershaw.


So, on a day when my hair was bigger than Nik himself, I got to meet my man.

I was coherent when I told him how much I'd loved the union chapel gig and then I turned our handshake into an unexpected kiss.  Oops!!!






It was just a massive 80s love in!  Midge Ure making grown men cry with Vienna, Nik Kershaw timed to perfection singing 'I won't let the sun go down on me' as the sun began to sink behind the festival and Bananarama, well two of them, making grown men weep with what might have been.





Sunday was brought to a close by the almighty Human League.  
I've definitely seen them perform bigger and give more - but that is true of almost all festival sets.  It was an 80s-tastic way to end this extraordinary weekend.  We'll always be together....


So, what is good about Rewind?  You need to ask?  The music, the music, the music.  It's our music and with few notable exceptions - talking to you Paul Young and Ben Volpeliere-Pierrot it sounds as good as it ever did!

 The setting at Temple Meadows is breathtaking and the walk along the towpath into Henley is an absolute delight, unless you attempt it at night without a torch and in ill fitting 80s shoes.

Rewind is the most extraordinary bubble - an hour up the A4 takes you back 30 years.  And for one weekend only - everyone is your mate.  It's more than a shared experience, it's a shared youth and you will hug and dance and sing and make forever friends.  You will share an umbrella and loo paper, swap music induced memories and fall in love with the 80s all over again.


And at rewind we wrestle it back, we bring 30 years of experience to being 17 and it's bloody marvellous!