Metropolis, fremantle, Australia.
I want you to know, I'm writing this fresh after the gig. How fresh? My ears are still ringing. Not that disconcerting whine, more a gentle sea shell echo. I'm about to put on some (early piano rather than junkyard death-march) Tom Waits to try and calm myself down. sometimes you just have a feeling and you have to roll with it.
When we started out this website I wrote a review for Doves performance at the Eden Project, Cornwall, UK. I argued extensively about the impossibility of describing incredible music. A lengthy treatise but relevant because to describe what I truly adored about the music I most love, well, its a failing point. Not that that discourages me, more fool me, if anything I wear that futility as a badge of pride, a holy grail to quest for. I hereby let it stand on record that that Eden Project gig was THE best gig by ANY band I have ever seen. This establishes impossible expectations. It is truly unreasonable to expect any band to just knock off a life changing experience; life changing in that following a time of rutted depression I totally felt a movement, a new optimism, a physical re-alignment, a desire to leave my mistakes behind me and attempt new quests. And for a little while back then I was filled with dread, how can anyone measure up to that far distant yardstick? Luckily I'm surrounded by a happy gang of Dove-a-philes. To all those who attended and lifted my volatile spirits during the fraught anticipating - kudos. As for my quixotic aspirations, I leave them glimmering in the distant horizon, on my hands and knees, I crawl pitifully toward them each hopeless day...
"So here we are at the end of the world. It's so nice to be here." I think that's a fair description of Perth. This is the most isolated city on the planet. The Dutch originally landed here and would've had fist dibs on colonising had they not declared it uninhabitable. Maybe Perth can be the new California, the new final frontier; sea breezes, brilliant sunshine, surf culture, blind drivers swarming past in their 4x4s - When you've trampled through everywhere else, drop in and see us. I'm not sure that's how I ended up here. I remember describing of Cornwall, where I saw Doves before, that its about ready to fall into the sea. Jimi Godwin looks like he's ready to fall into something else. Looking a little jet-lagged, surely he's usually more spry than this, his voice still manages to effortlessly fill the room and command his side of the stage, under a hat that, against all forms of contradiction, is somehow both funky and rustic. In fact all three Doves command their spots admirably, each instrument getting equal billing. A suitable democracy for a band where each member gets to take lead vocals, and with such understated aplomb. With Andy Williams turn upfront, there's a sudden strain of heads to find Jimi Godwin behind the drums as he sings the chorus to Here it Comes. They have the relaxed demenour of a band that's successfully navigated the globe and have nothing to prove to anyone. There's no fake attempt to act cool, put on a front or any airs of pretention. In fact given the way they seem to bond, their interplay, the natural chemistry between them and their fantastic collection of songs, even if did they sleep walked a gig, I can't imagine it being anything less than delicious. And what a collection of songs... Black & Town with its dazzlingly simlpe three chords and 4/4 drums that could be a skewed tribute to Nortern Soul, sublime melodies such as Sea Song, new songs that only gain in stature when performed in the flesh; Almost Forgot Myself, an epic Caught By the River with a sudden thrash beginning and a double outro, a Satelites I wish could've gone on forever... and There Goes the Fear. When the opening harmonica blast of The Cedar Room takes the room I have sudden urge-spasm to flee. There are way too many personal connotations here for me to share this moment with friends. Especially Mac. He's been holding out to see this, one of his all-time favourtie bands, for years. He's going loop-de-loop crazy, and although this partly alcoholicly induced (I don't realise this until after the show when it becomes clear that his ability to monitor the volume of his vioce has crashed and his willingness to expose his private parts in the cool night air of Fremantle's busiest street has blossomed like an unpredictable flower) his soulful clamouring, and full bloodied, if ultimately futile requests, for Firesuite and Catch the Sun are a joy to wallow in. And even though, to be entirely honest, this gig could never be as good as the Eden gig; that was just a case of taking some songs that were perfect and making them even more perfect, but as the fantastic hammering crescendo of the There Goes the Fear finale comes down I have to admit - I enjoyed every minute of it.As experienced by G (funk era), 2005.
Setlist:A word on the support act: Neon
You guys were so bad I think you gave me cancer. I won't go on at length because I'm sure you have good intentions, but after you'd finsihed I'd never seen such a rush to the stage for good positions.
