On Friday night, I went to see the Teenage Fanclub gig at the Barrowlands. This was a start-to-finish rendition of 1991's astonishing Bandwagonesque, followed by a run-through of later work.
The atmosphere was strained at times. Here were a bunch of guys who had known each other for a couple of decades. They had, once upon a time, created an awesome, majestic album which was favourably compared to contemporary releases such as Nirvana's Nevermind. The world had been at their feet; they were in a rock band; everything had seemed possible. Then the follow-up had been, somehow, less. The drummer, Brendan O'Hare, had left shortly afterwards. The rest of the band had gradually drifted into safer, more mature sounds: Coldplay does the Beach Boys. Venues had got smaller, crowds older and fewer.
It was Ibsen-like in the personal tension. Now, O'Hare is back for a night, and he hasn't really aged in attitude. He's balding and long-haired, sure, but he's still drinking constantly through the set and saying massively inappropriate things (at great and inaudible length) to the crowd in 1980s-funny, foreign accents. They're the grown-ups with jobs and he's still their mate from Bellshill. He's having a laugh and they don't know how to react. The bassist (Love) studiously ignores him. The lead guitarist (McGinley) loudly tunes up whenever O'Hare starts speaking. Norman Blake, lead vocalist, isn't sure what to do, and grins in an embarassed fashion, like the one who was best mates with him once, but had to persuade the other two to have him back and is now dying inside.
I was worried that the newer Teenage Fanclub would play the old Bandwagonesque. All violins, mellow sounds and highly-produced vocals, they would make it safe and happy. Luckily, that wan't the case. The rendition was faithful to the spirit of the original, which is as good a 3/4 an hour of power pop as I can think of. In fact, by ret-conning in a bit of flow and drift more normal in Ride's work at the time, they actually excelled at times.
Most of the crowd remembered most of the words, and as side one, track one kicked in, it seemed there wasn't a person in the crowd not belting out the words to The Concept, about a girl so uncool she likes Status Quo. This link to the video for the song on YouTube may work for a while: for a taste of the time it is unmissable. The band launched into the song with real energy, but did seem to drift at times. The last track, Is This Music?, was performed brilliantly, but only after a false start and mass retunes, where O'Hare's antics and camp dramatics probably saved what would otherwise have been a jarring delay of at least a minute or so (a very long time in front of a capacity Barrowlands crowd).
I like the format of a gig playing a full album, in order. The album, after all, was crafted and laid out ni a specific order, with flow and balance in mind. It was a great album. Why play it out of order? Why chuck in a cover of a Zep song or miss out a few songs? I only wish that I could hear a few other albums done the same way: Superunkown by Soundgarden; Pornography by the Cure; White Pony by the Deftones.
Some albums wouldn't work as well. The Smashing Pumpkins' Melon Collie and the Infinite Sadness would be the perfect length for a live set, but you'd need to take out the four wrong songs: the ones not about loss tacked on at the end. Then again, make it a single- instead of double-album and you have arguably the best record of the past 25 years. Massive Attack create great songs, and amazing albums, but even Blue Lines has jarring shifts.
Anyway, after finishing Bandwagonesque, the Bellshill Beach Boys returned to the stage with their new lineup. The new drummer was less chaotic, and even technically more skillful. But the energy and presence was no longer there. I was here to hear an album, and not to see the Teenage Fannies run through their greatest hits (what hits?) collection. It felt a little like going to a wedding and - as soon as the service ends - seeing the bride's ex-husband's friends celebrate his brithday, complete with cake and singing. The songs were nice, and deeply inoffensive, but I left, along with a few hundred others.