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Live:
Bluebird
Moles Club, Bath
9th May 02
If you usually make a point
of looking dangerous, or you�re fretting about your septic body piercings then
you�ll have to leave your poor attitude with the cloakroom attendant tonight.
This evening, in spite of your best efforts, you are destined to enjoy yourself.
Bluebird are four lively
young lookers who are just beginning to attract an audience beyond their
homeground of Bath. From the first notes of frontman Adam Rose�s distinctive
voice, their songs are performed with an exuberance that involuntarily makes you
grin. It�s obvious how the band just live to play: each tune is mercilessly
stuffed to the seams with enthusiasm and energy. When Adam anarchically leaps
mid-song into his surprised audience you wonder what gruesome accident involving
guitar leads, mike stands, and tuning pegs awaits. He advances on his innocent
onlookers wielding his guitar ruthlessly, shaking its neck like he�s trying to
strangle it. He twists and skips, weaving back and forth amongst the crowd.
The frenetic guitar break ends; miraculously he manages to untangle himself and
regain the stage with both ankles intact and no blood spilt.
Another involuntary smile
flashes across the stage and ricochets through the club. But what are we
listening to? Indie? Rock & Roll? No name? No idea. It�s tight and it�s
tuneful and it�s loud, and it makes you want to jump up and down. This crowd
certainly appreciate it: more and more people push through from the bar. A
hardcore faction in the middle whirl round and round each other; the momentum
spreads as the music reaches a stupendous climax and the singer disappears from
my vertically-challenged view. Pogo-ing determinedly I can see where he is:
lying on his back and squirming around like a frantic upturned woodlouse, still
strumming valiantly. This isn�t artifice or pretension � it�s the genuine
expression of an impassioned man.
�I Think You Should See
This� and �Prospect For Gold� stand out as the set�s rock & roll epics, but
Bluebird songs also stick in the mind for their endearing touches of
individuality. One track employs the unprecedented use of a mandolin (to fine
effect), while �That Dog� is a jaunty affair devoted to the Rose brothers�
beloved (but dead) canine.
When the final bars fade
(with Adam once more succumbing to gravity) the crowd seems quite happy to hear
another song, with yelps of �more!� cried out over the whistles and applause.
But we are in Bath. Apparently the delicate residents of the town centre go to
bed early, and there are Rules about disturbing their beauty sleep (and let�s
face it, some of them need it). However, there don�t seem to be any rules about
staying out and getting completely hammered, which is what most of the audience
now resign themselves to do.
I weave through the crowd to
glean some words of wisdom from the band. Marcus Rose, their bassist, has been
accosted by two newly acquired fans: �We�ve seen them all � Papa Roach, The
Offspring, Linkin Park � and they�re nothing compared to you; that was
brilliant!� (I would love to add they then said �You really rock� but it would
be taking journalistic license too far). Marcus is justly pleased with the
performance: �We get better and better every gig. What we really need now is a
really solid wider following.�
They will play further gigs
next month in London; if the record industry has any sense someone will snap
them up at last. As a fan in the audience told me: �If you�re good you still
need luck to break through. If you�re not good, no-one�s going to look twice at
you in the first place. But this lot, their songs are strong and tight �
they�re one of the good ones.�
Drummer Alex offers me the
peculiar �We are the forefront of sound � the apres avant-garde,� while
guitarist Jim agrees that it�s positive they enjoy themselves on stage �but not
in a pub rock way.� I can�t help wondering if these strange remarks should
stand as a warning of the effects of loud amplification on the brain. Whatever.
I finally find the elusive
singer. What does he have to say to his public?
�I dunno.� He pauses.
�Billy Connelly said �Don�t ever miss an opportunity to say �Fuck �em all�.�
Well, if there�s any justice in the world, Adam won�t be able to maintain his
professed reluctance to do the rockstar-to-fan thing much longer. Bluebird
deserve fame now. They deserve it for their memorable songs, they deserve it
for their originality, and they deserve it for the sheer effort and energy they
put in that guarantee you�ll have a bloody good night out. I can only say: go
and judge for yourselves.
www.bluebird-online.co.uk
Rhiannon Davies |
