You should take it as read by now that the only gigs I can be bothered to drag my weary arse to these days are ones on my doorstep - so I was over the moon when I heard that the Lightning Seeds would be playing at the local village hall last Saturday - with a 35th Anniversary Greatest Hits tour to boot.
Of all the great bands of the Britpop era, the Lightning Seeds were surely the best at writing pure pop songs, and they've easily got enough hits to fill an hour and a half on a Saturday night. Ian Broudie (with son Riley... yes, that Riley, he's now part of the band) was on top form, and by the end of the gig, I felt he was channeling that same quasi-religious aura that so many great frontmen from Liverpool so effortlessly do. Ian McCulloch. Julian Cope. Pete Wylie. Ian McNabb. Although Broudie started a little later, he easily fits into that group, making music that lifts you to another place, with a genuine sincerity performers from other parts of the country often try (and fail) to match. I'm not sure I'm explaining myself very well here. If you know what I mean, you know what I mean.
Now I know I'm in the minority here, but I'm always surprised when the Lightning Seeds play their biggest hit. For obvious reasons, it's never one that springs to mind for me, so while the rest of the crowd are chanting away to the terrace anthem, I take a moment's pause and wait for Marvellous, Lucky You or Sense. Nothing against Three Lions as a song, I'll just never be part of the culture that spawned it, no matter how many Sunday league matches I watch Sam play in.
Marvellous was present in the rapturous encore though, followed soon after by that glorious, life-affirming song Broudie wrote for his son. And sandwiched in between was this, which Ian described as "the greatest pop song ever written". It's certainly up there...
Not bad for a village hall
ReplyDeleteLove the Lightning Seeds 👏
ReplyDeleteThe last concert we went to in the village hall here was a woman playing her accordion.
ReplyDelete