Pearl Jam – MEN Arena, 17th August 2009

If there’s one thing you can’t accuse me of, it’s not being dedicated to the cause of good live music. My friends and I are not shy of a good hard road trip in order to see an object of our affections, and last night saw us undertake an almost six hour round trip from North-East to North-West and back again. But hell, it was worth every minute.

Pearl Jam are one of those bands that I’ve loved for years and years but have somehow managed to pass me by on their touring circuits, possibly because I tend to avoid arena gigs like the swine flu or because they’ve played festivals I haven’t been present at, but as it is, this is my virgin Pearl Jam experience and by God, It’s an itch that desperately needs scratching.

None of my party had any desire to sit around watching a middle of the road indie band (Gomez) after a long drive so we had a pint instead and arrived in time to take in the atmosphere before the main event. Playing to what appeared to be a sold out crowd, the band’s opening number, ‘Long Road’ was fairly unknown to me and came across as somewhat understated, but it was a thoughtful opening after which the set quickly gathered tempo, visiting the band’s entire back catalogue (almost) at some point or other, the more popular tracks with the crowd seeming to be those from their first two albums, ‘Ten’ and ‘Versus’. The inimitable Eddie Vedder had a choral accompaniment of around 25,000 people on the tracks from ‘Ten’ in particular, which was a wonderful thing to hear at times. ‘Alive’ sounded as though it was meant to be sung by an arena audience, and there are very few songs I’ll happily say that about and be part of at the same time.

Not that Vedder needed backing vocals. His unique voice, one which you might select as a prime candidate to suffer the ravages of age, hasn’t deteriorated one iota throughout the band’s long career. He soars effortlessly from laid-back verse to frenzied chorus, comfortable and yet full of energy, still looking every part the rock star. The rest of the band somewhat less so; middle age seems to have hit guitarists Stone Gossard and Mike McCready hardest, although you wouldn’t know it to listen to them, or to watch them play in the case of McCready who manages a guitar solo from behind his back; entertaining in a sort of ‘that’s my Dad’s party piece’ sort of way.

Highlights of the setlist for me were numerous; beautiful renditions of ‘In Hiding’ and ‘Given to Fly’, a storming version of ‘Rearviewmirror’, and an encore featuring both ‘Smile’ from the ‘No Code’ album and live favourite ‘Black’, all topped off with a veritable cherry of a closing song, ‘Indifference’ – cold, heart-breaking and final.

Would you look at that, I’ve managed to get through the entire review without a single mention of the two fawning f**kwits who were in the seats in front of pawing each other and shouting in each others’ ears for the entirety of the concert. Oh, wait…

Film Review – ‘Knowing’ – directed by Alex Proyas and starring Nicolas Cage

Fifty years ago, a young girl writes a series of seemingly random numerals in a letter that is placed in a time capsule… Fifty years on, that letter lands in the hands of a young boy, whose scientist father tries to make sense of it all. Chaos and creepiness ensue.

Nicolas Cage plays, well, himself. I forget the character’s name but really, it’s hardly relevant. I am a fan of Cage but the increasing levels of tripe he chooses to associate himself with these days is starting to put me off, particularly in consideration of the fact that he really only has one dimension: the slightly disaffected, solitary maverick, punctuated with a varying degree of swashbuckle and the odd dash of eccentricity. Sadly in Knowing, the swashbuckling eccentric gives way to the dourest version of Cage’s perma-character since The Family Man. Even the action sequences, although few and far between, seem tame and lacklustre in comparison to his usual exuberance (for example in the enormously fun albeit preposterous National Treasure series).

He does a solid enough job though, and the supporting cast, although not stand-out, are fairly inoffensive, particularly the children who surprisingly fail to annoy me. The problem isn’t the acting performances, but the plot. It starts out with a decent concept, and the first half of the movie is actually quite good, creating an eerie atmosphere and working the viewer into a state of cold anticipation using the usual horror techniques expertly. However, from a typical horror/chiller opening and mid-section (think The Sixth Sense or Signs) the screenwriter appears to have had some kind of schizophrenic episode, as the plot takes a turn for the ridiculous, and veers wildly from genre to genre, threatening for a while to become a fully-fledged disaster movie, before culminating in a truly cringe-worthy sci-fi style ending that screamed Scientology from every crappy CGI-filled orifice. As is often the case with these types of movies, the ‘big reveal’ is a let-down of epic proportions in a plethora of ways, not least that the so-called aliens are basically just Bros with black cloaks. And slightly more colour in their cheeks.

As is my wont, I found myself second-guessing the ending fairly early on and I’m quite confident that I came up with a much better one in my head in about two minutes. In actual fact, I feel that we were set up for a completely different (and undoubtedly better) movie to the one we actually ended up with, quite apart from the laughably twee ending. After the exposition, the first major scene with Cage lecturing to his class about randomness versus determinism to me seems to be hinting at an interesting and thought-provoking concept, that a decent scriptwriter would have rode with, instead of becoming distracted by the seemingly persistent notion that in Hollywood in the present day you cannot make a dime of profit without throwing aliens at a story. We could have ended up with a more cerebral version of the Final Destination theory (death has a plan) but instead, well, you know the rest (I scratched it into the desk with my nails because the alien-stroke-angels told me to).

I could make a comprehensive list of ‘stuff that didn’t make sense’ but I am holding myself back as I often tell others to ‘suspend reality’ and just enjoy a film experience, however far-fetched, and I don’t want to be accused of being hypocritical. But I will just say one thing – the black pebbles – just WHY?

Verdict - never has a well constructed concept dissolved so rapidly into rank mediocrity - 5.5/10

Sonisphere UK – Knebworth Park, 1st & 2nd August 2009

Three weekends after my first Sonisphere experience in Barcelona and it was time to travel back to the county of my birth for the culmination of the Sonisphere tour – the much discussed and at times controversial event of the summer. Not that surprising considering at one point, it seemed as though half the line-up had dropped out through ill health, double bookings, splitting up, legal battles or billing feuds, plus rumours of poor ticket sales abounded which was further fuelled by the countless competition winners that sprung up in the weeks leading up to the festival – myself included. Just what else could possibly go wrong with this festival? I was fervently hoping ‘nothing’ would be the answer to that, and headed down south unsure of what to expect in the way of numbers, organisation and general festival experience. But it would be a first, and that was something in itself.

The final leg of the touring festival was the only two-day event of the lot and the Knebworth Park campsites, despite being a tad on the hilly side, were well-sized and not over-crowded. But anyway, to sum up, I came, I saw, I drank cider. There’s much opinion to impart, but I’ll just crack straight on with some pithy band reviews (as pithy as I can possibly be, which is, quite likely to be fairly lacking pith, come to think of it), and I’ll drop in any other comments and observations as and when they occur to me.

Saturday

Opening the second stage (Saturn as it was actually called, in keeping with the astronomical theme of the festival), SoIL were a bit of a damp squib and didn’t exactly kick the proceedings off in quite the way I would have hoped. Their new frontman is not a patch on Ryan McCombs (now singing with Drowning Pool), and this really let them down. Even their classic closing track ‘Halo’ lacked the punch I would normally associate with it.

Next up, continuing the theme of lacklustre openings, Alien Ant Farm were first on the mainstage (or Apollo as it shall from this point be known). Despite having an extremely cool bass player, who singularly kept the energy level of the band up through the entire set, nostalgia for the sake of nostalgia is just not my bag. A band who haven’t really had a solid release for a number of years and have not been touring (evidently) was frankly a bit of a turn-off. Plus they didn’t mention Michael Jackson at all before or after closing with their version of ‘Smooth Criminal’. Call me sentimental but as it’s undoubtedly their biggest hit despite being a cover and the man himself has recently passed on, it would have been a nice thing for them to at least mention him briefly. It left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

Although that could have been something to do with being a little the worse for wear – something which Skindred were about to put paid to over on the Saturn stage. Like a shot in the bum they were, just the tonic I needed to liven me up for a day of rocking ahead. Frontman Benji is full of youthful energy and didn’t let up from start to finish, making sure the crowd worked as hard as the band in lifting the fairly flat atmosphere.

Sylosis are one for the future – new British metal at its best, and they got an explosive response from the crowd in the Bohemia tent to what was a tight, exciting set of modern thrash. Walls of death at 3:00 in the afternoon? Sylosis say yes please.

And so to possibly the most bizarre festival booking of all time (with the possible exception of Daphne and Celeste at Reading 2000) – Bjorn Again. Some attendees were still adamant that it would be a secret band and waited with bated breath in hope for something Swedish and guitar-driven but with no hint of matching flares and platform shoes. They were to be disappointed, as the Abba tribute act took the stage suitably clad in a black and silver ensemble. Something must have come loose in my head whilst watching Sylosis as I found myself catapulted from bleary-eyed cynicism to hyperactive all-singing all-dancing lunacy. And the less said about that incident the better!

Anthrax on the mainstage was a one-off event of a different kind. The band have just parted ways with singer Dan Nelson and the stand-in is none other than ex-frontman John Bush. It’s a solid performance from the legendary thrashers but doesn’t grasp my attention. The set was overlong and I didn’t find all the songs to my taste – perhaps I was saturated with as much awesomeness as I could take following the mighty Bjorn Again. The fans seemed happy though and I had a token dance to ‘Safe Home’.

I was never as bothered about the Saturday line-up at Knebworth as the vastly superior Sunday bill, and perhaps I was influenced by this in my swift dismissal of The Used. They tried my patience. The sound was poor and the vocals grated on me, and in typical selfish festival-goer fashion I just wanted to hear ‘one I knew’. After three songs the irritation outweighed the desire to hear a familiar song, despite there being a whole album’s worth that would have caught my attention, so I gave up and headed back to the campsite for an afternoon tipple as the weather closed in.
Despite my intense dislike of wet weather there was something appropriate about the brooding clouds that gathered overhead as Heaven and Hell took the stage, and their entire set took place in varying degrees of precipitation, but it didn’t diminish what was an unexpectedly engaging performance. Having never really listened to much of their material I felt like a bit of a noob but by the end of their set lovely little Ronnie James Dio with his impressively large vocals had captivated me and everyone else around me.

Faced with the option of watching the distinctly underwhelming Bullet For My Valentine whilst shivering in my soaking waterproofs, the decision to retreat into the Bohemia tent to watch what was for me an intriguing yet relatively unknown quantity, whilst drying off, was an easy one. Post-rockers Oceansize from Manchester turned out to be the surprise of the weekend. Ethereal, euphoric and with one of the best light shows I’ve ever seen in a tent-type environment, I was literally entranced by them. They created a wall of sound that was truly astonishing. Music for drying off to? Hell yes.

I emerged from the tent on another planet. Well, it seemed that way after the mind-altering experience that was Oceansize, added to the fact that the weather had taken a turn for the better, and the sun was setting in the most spectacular red-tinged fashion. It was headliner time, and the nu-metal revival continues – not that it ever went away where Linkin Park were concerned, as they have been one of the few to survive the demise of the much-maligned 90’s genre, however, it was a revival in my eyes having not listened to the band for some years, and I embraced it whole-heartedly.

I saw Linkin Park about five years ago in an arena and the same thing struck me then as it did tonight – that Chester Bennington is one hell of a singer. He projects effortlessly to the very back of the park and it’s really a joy to listen to. The band play a good few from their debut album, ‘Hybrid Theory’, which pleases me greatly, but it seems that like myself, a great many lose interest when Bennington insists on bringing on his side project, Dead by Sunrise, right in the middle of Linkin Park’s set. Quite what the motivation for the stunt was I don’t know but it tipped me over the edge into needing a beer, a hoodie and a burger (not necessarily in that order), so we headed back for the evening.

Sunday

After a wet Saturday and a chilly night, it was lovely to wake up to some Sunday morning sunshine. I was alive and kicking and hangover-free bright and early for some good old British doom metal in the shape of Paradise Lost on the Saturn stage. Despite a slightly dodgy sound, I quite enjoyed their set, having never seen them before – it was more of a rousing start to the day than Saturday, at least.

Killing Joke are a band I’ve never really gotten into and after two songs of their set on the Apollo stage, I have to get as far away from them as possible. I won’t elaborate as I know many people are huge fans of theirs but oh my, it really didn’t do it for me. Back on Saturn, Saxon basically went over my head as I found myself something to eat in preparation for my first highlight of the day.

I’m not going to go into much detail about Lamb of God as I reviewed them fairly fully after Sonisphere Barcelona, and in all honesty, this wasn’t as good. I was farther back which could have been a contributing factor, but the sound was poor, the vocals being far too low in the mix. This was also an issue in Barca and I’ve come to the conclusion that much as I love them, they’re more of an indoor band than a festival band. Nevertheless, they were still heavy and energetic, and the crowd reacted to them well. Buz McGrath from Unearth did a sterling job taking over guitar duties from Mark Morton, who left the tour a week or so ago as his wife is expecting a baby ‘any minute now’ (according to Randy). I wonder if it’ll be born with that beard.

So, Mastodon. My sixth time seeing them. It’s a pretty impressive statistic for a person who doesn’t like a band. Lamb of God must have been running over as Mastodon were already mid-song by the time we made it back to the Saturn stage (not that we were moving at any great speed). Exhaustion may have been getting to me at that point as at some points I almost, well, sort of enjoyed some of their set. Mainly the bits without any singing as I have decided I simply cannot stand the vocals. But some of the instrumental sections were, well, sort of okay. Ish. SURELY I’m not going to go soft on them after all this time. I feel I have a duty to maintain my dislike because imagine how gutted I’ll be if one day I suddenly realise that they’re amazing, and I’ve wasted all these opportunities to really enjoy them. Yup, I know.

A little bit of controversy can be a good thing where new events are concerned, but the Machine Head feud left the organisers of Sonisphere with red faces when it occurred and threatened to overshadow the festival. It seemed destined to leave them red-faced once more when the summer’s worst kept secret, the ‘special guest’ slot on the mainstage, turned out to be none other than the deserters themselves! Who’d have thunk it. They took the stage to the music from ‘The Omen’ and after ripping through their opening track frontman Robb Flynn confirmed that the omens did indeed portend, as he proceeded to belittle the festival organisers and Limp Bizkit in one fell swoop, whipping their diehard fans into a frenzy in the process.

Something was different about Machine Head today. They still delivered their set in a tight, professional way and they were just as good as in Barcelona, however, call me gullible but I honestly believe that the show really meant something to them. The response they got was immense, and the chanting and circle pits continued from start to finish and beyond. Flynn is normally as measured as the next frontman with his banter but today he spent a long time just looking out and taking it all in. He seemed genuinely moved. Feuding and Limp Bizkit aside, I honestly believe that this was a special performance from this band.

The next portion of the festival was spent in the queue for the signing tent where, joy of joys, I got to meet most of Lamb of God and have them sign something for me. It was a really nice experience and appeased the pathetic quivering fangirl within me for at least, ooh, half an hour. As a result I missed Limp Bizkit but it seemed somehow fitting to do so in hindsight, as following the festival it came out that Lamb of God’s Willie Adler had thrown his lot in with Machine Head in the criticism of the afore-mentioned nu-metal crew. So I was just being loyal really.

Alice in Chains were probably the band I was most looking forward to at the festival, and in the afternoon sunshine, surrounded by literally the happiest festival crowd I’ve ever seen, they didn’t disappoint. Their signature sound has weathered well over the years and to prove it, new song ‘A Looking In View’ sounds absolutely immense live, and features their trademark chunky, groovy rhythms and soaring melodic chorus, completely winning over anyone left in the crowd who wasn’t already spellbound. Many have criticised the band for continuing with a replacement singer but I defy any of those critics to witness the rockstar in waiting that is William Duvall and not be blown away by his pure class. He poses, wails and plays guitar, looks bloody cool and has a cracking voice to boot – neither a carbon copy nor an imitation of Layne, but with just the right tone and timbre to match Jerry Cantrell’s voice perfectly, as well as buckets of personality, he fits the band like a glove, just as Layne did. He is truly the man of the festival.

From the future hope of a band who were long considered dead to the last goodbye of one that many have worshipped over a number of years as the leading light in their particular subgenre. It was an emotionally charged evening for all concerned, and the emotion showed on the face of Nine Inch Nails frontman Trent Reznor just as much as on the faces of the thousands of NIN devotees in the crowd. The set itself was immaculate. Well-chosen, introspective songs and extended instrumentals were the order of the day and although they have since been criticised from some quarters for not playing a balls-out, greatest hits-style set, from where I was standing it was the most touching farewell that a true NIN fan could have asked for. And the two I was at the festival with agreed, once they had composed themselves for long enough to string a sentence together. I’d also like to give a shout out to the camera-man who reflected the seminal nature of the gig with some beautiful camera work, showing Reznor close-up in black and white, but in full emotional technicolour.

There’s not much left for me to say about Metallica that I haven’t either said before myself or that someone else hasn’t said, probably 1,000 times in a hundred different ways. But it’s as simple as this. When Ecstasy of Gold starts (with added Clint Eastwood of late), every single person in the place who has ever seen Metallica before knows what is about to happen. They are about to witness a fully charged, fully loaded metal gig. And yes, it gives me chills every time. They burst onto the stage and launch into a five-song blitz through their back catalogue, hurtling through already up-tempo numbers at such speeds that you can barely headbang in time. They have been at the top of their game for years and yet they just get better and better. Where all their energy comes from, I will never know. Perhaps it’s from us, as James Hetfield keeps telling us – it has to feel good looking out and seeing maybe 50,000 metalheads reverently singing every lyric and every note of every guitar solo back at you.

On my 10th Metalli-versary, (10th time of seeing them live in 13 years) the setlist featured yet one more new song for me to tick off my list – ‘Dyer’s Eve’ from the ‘And Justice For All’ album, which sounded absolutely brutal. At the end of the gig there was one more surprise in store – but not for us. It was James’ birthday and he was attacked from all directions with custard pies, very amusing indeed. The band stuck around onstage for quite a while after the gig singing happy birthday to James and thanking the fans individually, which was a nice touch.

And so the Sonisphere experience drew to a close. I feel quite invested in the franchise as a whole having been to two out of the six events across the continent this year, and I will follow its progress with interest over the years to come. All in all, a great experience – fair play to all involved, and thanks for the memories!