Clap Your Hands Say Yeah Indeed
What an enjoyable way to spend a Saturday night.
An etiquette question first – when selling tickets on the street outside a gig, do you give the tickets to he who says he’ll buy them first, or he who gives you the money first? I said I had extra tickets and was nearly mobbed but one guy said he’d buy them from me first and took his time counting his money, while the other guy had the cash ready. I should have really auctioned them off to the assembled crowd – I could have made a killing. The guy who did buy them from me told me he “knew” I would have extra tickets because I looked like I was in promotion. This is the first time anyone has ever confused me with anything cool music related. My long black coat , pink scarf and white and pink spotted bag obviously marks one out of an alternative indie rock lover. Not.
Dr Dog, the supporting act was actually quite good, even though I felt they were a disaster waiting to happen. The singer/guitar guy in a trilby and shades- indoor Dublin in the winter – pretty superfluous, don’t you think? – kept bopping up and down with his guitar in circles and it looked, from where I was standing anyway, that a few mm off his course and he could easily have knocked over several other of his bearded checked shirted band members and multiple pieces of electrical equipment.
CYHSY were way better than I expected. I think the album is excellent – not because it’s a coherent album of 12 brilliant songs but the songs that are good are so good.
They played lots of new songs and instead of the usual crowd restlessness where we want them to play the songs we know (but are still clueless to the lyrics without reading them) the crowd were really in to it. In fact, the new songs sound unbelievable and I’m counting down the days until the new album is released.
One song had an extensive “Shake” or “Sade” chorus type thing – we couldn’t figure it out, so my friends started singing “Zayton” and talking about what they were going to eat there later on. (Until I intervened – see below)
Gimme Some Salt started acoustic and rocked up and Skin of My Yellow Country was just great.
They ended with a cover of Neil Young’s “Helpless” which is my 2nd favourite NY song (after Unknown Legend) – I was thrilled. I couldn’t have imagined a better end to an excellent concert. (That said, I’d probably even love a Girls Aloud version of Helpless, but still)
The night ended in the Manhattan. Hadn’t been to the Manhattan in over a year and I felt I had to a duty to the non-Irish people I was with to introduce them to the delights of the Manhattan greasy fry. I am never really around that end of Harcourt Road and when I saw that the roof is gone and the building beside it knocked down, I thought we were in for a disappointment. We knocked on the door at 1.15 and were told that they were not open until 1.30. I had a Number 3 with milk with unlimited buttery toast (even though I think they used spread and not real butter, like I remember) and thoroughly enjoyed the reaction of my English and American friends to the delights of the Manhattan diner – a diner with a ceiling, but no roof; a 3 item menu and where entry is gained only by knocking.
An etiquette question first – when selling tickets on the street outside a gig, do you give the tickets to he who says he’ll buy them first, or he who gives you the money first? I said I had extra tickets and was nearly mobbed but one guy said he’d buy them from me first and took his time counting his money, while the other guy had the cash ready. I should have really auctioned them off to the assembled crowd – I could have made a killing. The guy who did buy them from me told me he “knew” I would have extra tickets because I looked like I was in promotion. This is the first time anyone has ever confused me with anything cool music related. My long black coat , pink scarf and white and pink spotted bag obviously marks one out of an alternative indie rock lover. Not.
Dr Dog, the supporting act was actually quite good, even though I felt they were a disaster waiting to happen. The singer/guitar guy in a trilby and shades- indoor Dublin in the winter – pretty superfluous, don’t you think? – kept bopping up and down with his guitar in circles and it looked, from where I was standing anyway, that a few mm off his course and he could easily have knocked over several other of his bearded checked shirted band members and multiple pieces of electrical equipment.
CYHSY were way better than I expected. I think the album is excellent – not because it’s a coherent album of 12 brilliant songs but the songs that are good are so good.
They played lots of new songs and instead of the usual crowd restlessness where we want them to play the songs we know (but are still clueless to the lyrics without reading them) the crowd were really in to it. In fact, the new songs sound unbelievable and I’m counting down the days until the new album is released.
One song had an extensive “Shake” or “Sade” chorus type thing – we couldn’t figure it out, so my friends started singing “Zayton” and talking about what they were going to eat there later on. (Until I intervened – see below)
Gimme Some Salt started acoustic and rocked up and Skin of My Yellow Country was just great.
They ended with a cover of Neil Young’s “Helpless” which is my 2nd favourite NY song (after Unknown Legend) – I was thrilled. I couldn’t have imagined a better end to an excellent concert. (That said, I’d probably even love a Girls Aloud version of Helpless, but still)
The night ended in the Manhattan. Hadn’t been to the Manhattan in over a year and I felt I had to a duty to the non-Irish people I was with to introduce them to the delights of the Manhattan greasy fry. I am never really around that end of Harcourt Road and when I saw that the roof is gone and the building beside it knocked down, I thought we were in for a disappointment. We knocked on the door at 1.15 and were told that they were not open until 1.30. I had a Number 3 with milk with unlimited buttery toast (even though I think they used spread and not real butter, like I remember) and thoroughly enjoyed the reaction of my English and American friends to the delights of the Manhattan diner – a diner with a ceiling, but no roof; a 3 item menu and where entry is gained only by knocking.
Labels: Music
2 Comments:
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah,
one of the best names for a band I've heard for ages :-)
em... you could give the guy 10 secs after the other guy has the cash ready I spose? Auctioning makes you a scumbag scalper though... and open to prosecution (even though they never prosecute the guys at six nations or the munster final).
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