Author: Paul Little

Going For A Song: ‘Big’

Fontaines D.C. – Big

I nearly overthought this. I heard ‘Big’ and my initial reaction was with gut, heart and limbs. Then my mistake – searching for information, seeing photos; the initial reaction became, as I listened to the album Dogrel, an inability to appreciate it for what it is. And what is it? A debut album by a group of young men: a mish-mash of styles, of bravado and openness, intelligent lyrics to songs that belong on a debut.

But I’d been here before. Bands have come and gone, unable to fulfil what I hope for them – it is wisdom, and it’s not wisdom, it’s something negative, whatever that might be. But, with persistence, listening, not fretting about what I think I know, I came to a halfway state: gut, heart and limbs in play, tempered slightly, but not too much as I claim Dogrel as the perfect debut album.

Oh, I did like to be beside the seaside

Had some great shows with City Impro and Improbotics at Brighton Fringe; the majority of shows were sold out so that was an added bonus.

For Laugh Island one night, having been part of the couple who had “won”, we had our picture taken with the audience. The look on my face in the photo (included in those above) has been described as ‘gormlessly happy’ and, slightly less kindly, as having ‘a sad grin on my stupid face’. I’m using ‘being in character’ as my excuse for that expression.

The next bunch of shows are part of Camden Fringe: Improbotics at the Hen and Chickens (Fri 2nd and Sat 3rd August, 9pm); Laugh Island at the Canal Cafe Theatre (Fri 9th to Sun 11th, 7:30pm); and Improv Death Match at Aces and Eights (Fri 9th, Sat 10th and Fri 16th, Sat 17th, 10:15pm).

 

Reading: The Sellout, Paul Beatty

Going For A Song: ‘Passing Afternoon’ (Demo)

 

Iron & Wine – Passing Afternoon (Demo)

In the Quietus, Luke Turner wrote that seeing Suede recently wasn’t an exercise in nostalgia but ‘everything they did for me a quarter of a century ago’. I mention this because I recently bought the 15 anniversary vinyl edition of Iron & Wine’s Our Endless Numbered Days and, to paraphrase Turner, listening to it hasn’t been an exercise in nostalgia; the record is everything it was to me when I first heard it fourteen, maybe fifteen years ago.

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