Sometimes the Sun (part three)
This is the third part of the neverending Sundae on the Common review. Part one is here and part two is here.
Alabama 3
When you are whooping it up with the boys in a band modelled jokily on the American Deep South, you have every right to demand a roadie to supply you with lit fags as you fiddle around on your keyboard. But on stage? Hell yeah.
Alabama 3 can get away with this where lesser bands would wither under the collective skunk eye of a cynical generation. With their preference for funky, pseudo-religious country rhythms, they soon win you over and leave you a helpless junkie for their diverse yet distintive songs. Their number is somewhere in the region of six, but today a million people appeared to come and go during the set...rappers, sexy female dancers in orange shirts, roadies supplying cigarettes... it was a party and they wanted to share.
Their most recent single is Hello, I'm Johnny Cash; played live, this potent tribute to the Man in Black sounds more driving, more celebratory and more convincing than it does through a pair of living room speakers. The toe-tappin' country bounciness, with just a hint of the goofy hillbilly, comes across as a gospel-like blast of energy from the sort of church you would actually pay to join.
Smiles of recognition greeted Woke Up This Morning...all the partying inverted on itself and the band became an easy-going force of nature in supercool shades and self-assured swagger. The games were over, this was serious... Further joy came from the soulful up-yours that is Ain't Goin' To Goa, and the joy blossomed into laughter with the knowing and wry U Don't Dans 2 Tekno Anymore.
But no matter what they did, some of the crowd were visibly frustrated. Not enough skinny boys playing guitars for these recidivist dullards. I realised then that whilst I saw this event as a chilled out festival at which to spend the day in sonic reverie... but many others were here because a fiver to see the Thrills is as good as it gets. Without missing a beat and without saying a word I shot these idiots dead with my special gun and went back to saluting my own new favourite band.
I have since listened to a few of their tracks on CD and realise how important it is to see Alabama 3 live. Their music gains a hell of a lot from the atmosphere they create and so I urge you to track down where they are next headed. And if you don't, the Alabama 3 will be praying for your soul tonight.
Alabama 3
When you are whooping it up with the boys in a band modelled jokily on the American Deep South, you have every right to demand a roadie to supply you with lit fags as you fiddle around on your keyboard. But on stage? Hell yeah.
Alabama 3 can get away with this where lesser bands would wither under the collective skunk eye of a cynical generation. With their preference for funky, pseudo-religious country rhythms, they soon win you over and leave you a helpless junkie for their diverse yet distintive songs. Their number is somewhere in the region of six, but today a million people appeared to come and go during the set...rappers, sexy female dancers in orange shirts, roadies supplying cigarettes... it was a party and they wanted to share.
Their most recent single is Hello, I'm Johnny Cash; played live, this potent tribute to the Man in Black sounds more driving, more celebratory and more convincing than it does through a pair of living room speakers. The toe-tappin' country bounciness, with just a hint of the goofy hillbilly, comes across as a gospel-like blast of energy from the sort of church you would actually pay to join.
Smiles of recognition greeted Woke Up This Morning...all the partying inverted on itself and the band became an easy-going force of nature in supercool shades and self-assured swagger. The games were over, this was serious... Further joy came from the soulful up-yours that is Ain't Goin' To Goa, and the joy blossomed into laughter with the knowing and wry U Don't Dans 2 Tekno Anymore.
But no matter what they did, some of the crowd were visibly frustrated. Not enough skinny boys playing guitars for these recidivist dullards. I realised then that whilst I saw this event as a chilled out festival at which to spend the day in sonic reverie... but many others were here because a fiver to see the Thrills is as good as it gets. Without missing a beat and without saying a word I shot these idiots dead with my special gun and went back to saluting my own new favourite band.
I have since listened to a few of their tracks on CD and realise how important it is to see Alabama 3 live. Their music gains a hell of a lot from the atmosphere they create and so I urge you to track down where they are next headed. And if you don't, the Alabama 3 will be praying for your soul tonight.
posted by Jamie at 2:30 PM
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