If you sing a song, sing a song for them
If you sing a song, sing the song for them
Last night I attended my first gig in that London since, well, since the last one I went to. A certain Ms Lewis of whom I am known to have a crush on. I like her when she is doing the day job, and I like her on her own. This was a gig on her own. With a band, obviously, but not the band. If you see what I mean.
For the bats and belfry and the fairies on Main Street
For the deadbeat daddies and the Boulevard freaks
For the little girls with the carousel eyes
And the brick-a-brak finding housewives, losing their minds
Venturing down to Camden Town, for the first time in an age, the gig was in Koko, and I have to say, it was a good venue. I stood in the gallery, overlooking a desk of excellence (a desk, not a desk.) Because of the NME club night after, this was a curfew gig. Which meant a ten pm finish. Which is fine for me, as I could get back to get the train home. If the stupid, stupid tubes ran properly, and I wasn’t forever stuck between stations.
Sing the song for them, if you sing a song
Sing the song for them
If you sing a song, sing the song for them
The crowd was probably what I expected, predominately female, although a wide spread of ages, from early 20s to, well, my age. (Although there were a few wrinklies.) The crowd also reacted in the way I expected, swaying gentley to the awesome music, with a few heads nodding as the tempo gathered up. And the music was awesome. The choices of opening and closing songs suprised me, especially with closing the encore with what is the weakest song on the new album. And I would like to have heard more, but the curfew, that damned curfew ensuring an early finish.
To the never-made-its, and the unrecognized
To the alley rats and the tenement flies
To the weekend tweakers, the blond and the blind
To the ex-thrill seekers in the methadone lines
Jenny has a fantastic voice. The band was tight, and most of the band formed the support act. Which was tight, but awful. The transition when Ms Lewis appeared was marked. They went from being Pink Floyd wannabes fronted by some Hells Angel who mumbled incoherently (but didn’t do too bad when standing in for the real stars on the record) to the excellent engine for the rest of the show. Hardly a high-energy performance, but it didn’t need to be. Jenny carried it, and her tunes stood up to the live arena.
Sing the song for them
If you sing a song, sing the song for them
She never took her hat off the entire set, she stood on top of her piano at one point, she hardly missed a note. Well worth running the gambit of the goffs and tarts of Camden. Of which there weren’t many when I went in, but loads when I came out later in the night. No suprise there, then.
A great show. A great show.
To who you are, and will never be
To the shaking hand of the maker we’re all going to meet
Sing the song for them
If you sing a song, sing the song for them
(picture gratefully allowed to be used by preamble)
