Imagine you’re at a party. Perhaps a party you’ve been looking forward to for some time. There’s going to be some old friends there you haven’t seen in years – some you may have thought you’d never see again, some you’d forgotten about. You don’t expect it to be the greatest party ever – you’re old, you can’t hit the heights you used to – but it’s not just a nostalgia trip about how good things used to be, you’re really looking forward to catching up with people, maybe even making some new friends, having a drink, pulling some shapes. You know, partying.
And then there’s that one guy. At his best, he used to be the life of the party, the guy who made everyone feel like they were having the time of their life, that things really mattered. Sure, maybe you’re a bit older now and you don’t expect to see him necking shots of Jåger at the bar, infact that might be a little sad to see as you’re not teenagers any more, but still, you expect him to be fun right? Only he’s not. He’s become the mopiest, most miserable fucker there. Every time anyone speaks about anything exciting he buts in with ‘Oh what’s the point, none of this matters, you’re not even having fun any more, you’re all just pretending to and it’s making me sick’. Everyone keeps trying to raise the mood but he keeps dragging you back down. You move to the other side of the room and try to talk to someone else, but you keep catching his glare out of the corner of your eye and you start to believe him – maybe you’re not having as much fun as you thought you would. Maybe it was stupid to expect that. At the end of the night, you say goodbye to everyone with genuine gratitude, as yes, it WAS lovely to see them all, even Gloomasaurus Rex himself, but it’s tainted. You could have had the BEST time, but miseryguts over there had to drag everyone down and put a spoiler on it all.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Omar Rodríguez-López
Now i’ll be fair. I’d taken a few minutes to watch some old ATD-I clips to get in the mood, and I was shocked when I rewatched the infamous clip of them playing ‘One-armed scissor’ on Later. Yes, the energy was insane and they were bounding around the stage like ADHD kids with vimto suppositories, but they were barely holding it together. In fact they didn’t – Omar chucks his malfunctioning guitar towards the end and grabs a tambourine, and the energy doesn’t make up for the lack of tightness. But there’s definitely SOMETHING there. I wasn’t expecting that energy again, the years and the drugs have gotten to them, and i’ve seen enough Mars Volta clips to know that a more restrained performance was probably in order. But then I saw Refused a few weeks back, and even with the whole losing-a-phone-in-the-moshpit occurrence, they were absolutely astonishing; tight, loud, energetic, funky, dancing and danceable, putting younger bands to shame. I started to wonder if such a thing might be possible at Brixton.
Credit where it’s due, 4/5 members did their bit. Cedric was, joyously, giving it some. Sure, it wasn’t the explosive mayhem of 12 years ago, but despite looking a little tired in places, he was giving
it his best. The old moves were present, his voice did pretty well fighting against some unimpressive sound, and my fears that he’d dial it in were unfounded (confession – my only previous live experience of ATD-I was 5 minutes watching from a distance at Reading 2000 before I gave up any hope of getting through the crowds. I had a ticket to the Relationship of Command tour, but they split)
Jim too, was impressive. I’d forgotten that some of my favourite vocal parts were actually his, and considering he was tied into a guitar/keyboard/mic set up in the corner he did pretty well. The
rhythm section were tight, heads nodding away, doing as much as would be expected, and while nothing was perfect (the sound was pretty awful, although that may have had something to do with how far back I was standing) they all acquitted themselves well.
But Omar? Nah. Anyone who plays an instrument knows that you’re trained to nod your head or tap your foot to the beat to keep time. Eventually it becomes natural, and you find yourself doing it without
thinking. This may be the only performance i’ve ever seen where a musician seems to have been putting serious effort into remaining as motionless as possible. No one was expecting the old Omar, that would have been unfair, but jesus, he just sucked every single ounce of energy out of that stage. The man clearly just did not give a fuck – and not in the age old punk manner of destroying everything around you. He gave a perfectly good impression of a man engrossed in a documentary about whales. Except that documentaries usually make you smile at some point.
They started with the 1-2 of Arcarsenal and Pattern Against User that seems to have been the opener to their recent shows. A few old tracks which clearly didn’t get the crowd going as much as the RoC stuff (summary – 198D was pretty sweet, Metronome Arthritis was lumpen and dishwater dull, the rest…meh). A brief break, then encore – Catacombs, I think? followed by One-Armed Scissor, the first point at which the crowd seemed to lift and properly get into it. And then they were
done. Cedric and Jim stayed for a minute, even bringing one of their children out to see the crowd, but miseryguts stormed off the second the final chord had hit.
What else was notable? Well…There were several tech guys on stage, one of whom seemed to have the sole task of topping up Cedric’s cup of tea with hot water. GANGSTA. I want a tea boy next time I play. Cedric made a point on thanking the crowd for listening to the support. I must admit that I missed them, but it was a nice touch. Finally, no matter how often it happens, I still can’t get used to hearing the words ‘Coronation Street’ in an American accent.
It wasn’t the worst gig i’ve ever been to, and apart from Omar, everyone did pretty well, but seriously, such a downer when you think about what could have been. Apparently his mother died earlier this year and some have suggested that this may have something to do with his lack of enthusiasm. Maybe, maybe not. All I know is, that was a perfectly good opportunity, wasted by one man’s total apathy.
Cheers. Dick.
UrsaMal 