[gig] The Psychedelic Furs, The Fleece, Bristol, 4 July 2012

So much to catch up on, I'll start with one of the more recent things.

This was yet another gig that I almost didn't make it to because I'd been feeling fluey all day, but I knew I'd be fine once I got there, and I was.  I didn't arrive early enough to get down to the front, but I managed to find a spot about 1/3 back, and as it was a proper Bristol crowd (ie, I was just about the tallest person there), I had an excellent view.

I've only seen the Furs live once before, Leeds University in (I'm practically certain) the autumn of 1990.  As I recall they were good, but it was a huge venue and I was way at the back.  I've somehow managed to miss every single reunion tour they've done since, and would have missed this, but the day tickets went on sale, the only post Facebook would show me was one of the Bristol goth DJs announcing that tickets were selling swiftly, so I logged on to Bristol Ticket Shop immediately and got myself a ticket.

They came on stage as a six piece - vocals, guitar, bass, keyboards, drums and sax.  Richard Butler has held up really well, despite the awful glasses.  Most importantly, his voice is still amazing.  The whole performance was flawlessly tight.  Extra points to the saxophonist for switching off between soprano and tenor sax in one song.

I can't remember that much of the set list; sadly for me no Heartbreak Beat or All that Money wants (which I get are minority favourites at best).  I have a terrible time with song titles anyway.  Highlights for me were Heaven, Love My Way, Pretty In Pink (it took me a decade to get past it being used in a John Hughes movie, but mixed in with all their other stuff it's clear why it was their biggest hit).  What really made it for me was that they closed the encore with an interesting arrangement of President Gas - it took me longer than two notes to work out what song it was - which is my all time favourite.

Did I mention the voice?  It held up pretty well throughout the whole set.

As did the sound - the Fleece is definitely better kitted out than the Tunnels, no doubt about it.

There's an obvious comparison to seeing the Chameleons last month.  While I had the time of my life being 2 feet away from Mark Burgess, I now feel the Chameleons were let down by the crappy sound that went to hell by the end of the set.  Both were excellent gigs in different ways - the Furs are a lot more polished and have more of a performance element, but the Chameleons are - well, the Chameleons.  Both bands hold a very important place in my heart.  There's a lot more women down the front at a Furs gig though.

[books 2012] Beyond Black

37. Beyond Black by Hilary Mantel

Alison is a medium who makes a nice living doing private readings, and shows at really naff venues in the area of the M25.  Collette is her business partner/assistant, and if you looked up the word bitch in the dictionary, you'd find her picture.  They buy a house on a new-build estate [1] (old houses have too much spirit baggage for Alison) and have truly atrocious neighbours who only care about their property values.

Alison has a spirit guide called Morris, who was a small time failure of a criminal when he was alive, and unpleasant even in uncorporeal form.  He is on a quest to reassemble his criminal gang, and his malevolence comes alive in a deeply creepy and uncomfortable-making way.

I can't dispute Mantel's talents as an author - while I'm still not sure whether I *liked* this book, I sure as hell couldn't put it down.  One of the reviews on the cover says it's "deeply witty" or something like that (I can't check, it's already gone to the charity shop).  I am really not sure about that.  The bits where Alison and Colette wind up their snobby neighbours are hilarious, as are some of the bits with the other mediums and psychic shows, but at the end of the day it turns out that Alison was horifically abused in every way as a child, and Morris was one of her abusers.  So really it's about a person who is so deeply traumatised that she's mentally ill.  Or about her abusers following her around after their deaths.  Either way, it's pretty dark stuff.

[1] For my North American readers, McMansion is probably the word that best fits.

[books 2012] Stephen Fry

38. The Liar by Stephen Fry

This month's bibliogoths book.  I last read it in 1997, and the only thing I remembered about it was the pornographic Dickens novel.  Which I still think is the best bit.

I'd completely forgotten that when he wrote it he was in his wanting to be Oscar Wilde phase. (And indeed, was Oscar Wilde, if only in a film).

It's well written, it's funny, but now that I've read the autobiography it's obvious how much of it was lifted straight from Fry's own life.

And then there's the cricket.  Can't bring myself to care.

But definitely worth the few hours it took me to re-read it.