In place of a well thought out and perfectly sculpted post, I thought I'd share with you something I came across earlier today.
It's the one and only thing I ever wrote for my student newspaper:
REVIEW: 'Martin Creed Band' at the Belfast Barge
Let me begin by saying that conceptual art and minimalist music are not my idea of a good time. Old-fashioned as it sounds I find it difficult to think of ‘a sheet of A4 paper crumpled into a ball’ as art; it is just a screwed up piece of paper. So I was set to attend the 'Martin Creed Band' gig with a less than open mind, my expectation was that Creed’s music was to be much the same as his art.
The venue was an unimposing barge docked in the River Lagan. Greeted at the door with a complimentary glass of wine, audience members were then ushered through the doors into a rather cosy room of about six tables. There was a somewhat quaint vibe about the whole thing.
Kicking off the evening was local band ‘The Continuous Battle of Order,’ consisting of indie musicians Hornby (who seems to be without a forename) and Craig Kearney. Their songs can only be described as 'epic explosions of sound'.
The band members' timing was immaculate and their set varied from surreal wailing to sudden outbursts of experimental jazz. Every so often the music would stop and a line of speech would continuously repeated by the two 'out-there' music makers. However, after forty minutes of this ear-splitting entertainment, ears were beginning to bleed and watches were attracting a larger audience than the stage.
During the changeover, the barge began to fill up and the audience increased by almost a third. Martin Creed entered the room and a hush of anticipation fell over the crowd as he took to the stage to warn people of the strobe-lighting. There was something about the way he told jokes in his deadpan Glaswegian accent that made him instantly likable.
Creed's band performed a series of short experimental pieces and managed to keep the majority of the audience entertained. The level of nudity was certainly higher than expected and the highlight of the concert was, without a doubt, Creed’s best known song 'Fuck Off'. It is exactly what you'd expect from the title. An unmemorable riff with the words 'fuck off' continuously repeated over the top.
The evening ended, the lights turned down and there came from the audience a few half-hearted cries of 'encore'. The band obliged, finishing in much the same vein as they had begun - by counting from one hundred to two hundred in song.
A few keen audience members began to get up and dance, trying in desperation to make others do the same, but being met with blank looks. The evening was, if nothing else, memorable. Creed’s intention is to be out-there and different, and out-there and different is the certainly best way to describe his concert.
So there you go, not too bad for a first-year. Perhaps I've missed my calling as a music critic...
Anyway, this was originally supposed to be a travel blog so next time I really will write about Bruges. The piece is coming, it's just a bit dull thus far...
(Oh, no. I don't like that ending at all...)
|Here's what I looked like back then|
(the photo is almost sepia, so you know it's old)