Young Knives
100 Club, London
Someone at Xfm, London's 'alternative' radio station, decided that it would be a good idea to have a whole day's worth of breakfast radio. To tie in with Alex Zane's radio special programme they also organised a range of gigs across London venues for competition winners to attend. The final gig of the night was the Young Knives at the world famous 100 Club on Oxford Street.
The night was already well underway with a house party and football at a mate's house before I set off into the night. My co-conspiratator Jamie and I jumped onto a night bus to make it into central London in easy time for the 2.30am doors. As tiredness was going to be an issue, we swallowed two super-strength caffeine pills illegally imported by a friend from Australia.
The crowd assembled outside were already buzzing from their other London gigs - faces were red, spirits high and tomfoolery was a plenty. When the venue opened their doors, the crowd rushed to the bar to consume copious amounts of red-bull and vodka. This was the only way to legally make it through the night, although other substances were, I am sure, consumed in order to maximise the energy and fun of seeing this amazing live band in such a small venue.
I'm getting into the whole bizarre atmosphere when I was surprised by a huge bear-hug from another mate Will who had just entered the room. His accomplice, a barrister who will remain unnamed on this website, happened to have colourful eye make-up and stars stuck onto the side of his face, and the conversation quickly descended into farce. "We've just come from a house party and the roof caved in". The night was taking on Hunter S. Thompsonesque proportions of ridiculousness. Still, it's good to see that the establishment hasn't completely removed the rock and roll from this particular individual. The Generation of Swine hasn't completely won yet.
The gig came around relatively quickly - no hanging around here from musical prima-donnas. The Young Knives came to the stage and instantly commented on the nature of the gig, "This is all very weird, isn't it?". Playing quickly through their set, the band seemed to want to get this over with as soon as possible. They triumphantly sailed through most of their new album, the critically panned Superabundance which, although not as good as their debut, Voices of Animals and Men, certainly deserves more praise than it received. Especially when seen in a live context.
The crowd's reaction to these songs was a delight. Even if the boys from the band seemed a little subdued, the vodka-fuelled masses at the front were bouncing up and down, others were singing along. I'm randomly talking and laughing with strangers including Victoria who drew a very fetching star by my eye. This coupled with my fluorescent orange headband and too much alcohol probably made me look like a complete and utter wreck. The crowd was enthralled with the band in such unusual circumstances.
The Young Knives meanwhile were their usual joking selves, "We love Virgin Radio" was said a few times before more seriously saying that where they live they don't get Xfm, but if they lived in London they would listen to it. They now seemed a little worse for wear too. Final song 'She's Attracted To' from their debut sent the crowd overboard with delight. The chorus of "You were screaming at your Mum, I was punching your Dad" was chanted over and over by the crowd.
Then John Kennedy, champion of new music on Xfm, started playing a few songs, the kind of indie-classics that you can't help but move your feet to, even if they were relatively safe tunes to play for someone supposedly in touch with the cutting edge. A few random conversations with John Kennedy's assistant followed - "You have to get It Hugs Back in for a session", I remember shouting over and over into her ear. "Why doesn't John Kennedy like the Hold Steady?", was another. I can't really remember the answers, I'm still not sure she actually gave me any either. Still I like to think in my very own drunken way, I managed to influence his playlist and the future of music.
As the vodkas and beers dried up, we set off into the night - well the morning, it was already light - into an empty London. A few revellers were singing and dancing down Charing Cross Road, Trafalger Square was empty save for a few almost empty night-buses. It reminded me of wild misspent nights of my youth, "Ohhh! to be Seventeen Forever", as Craig Finn of the Hold Steady might sing.
A night-bus, an hour long walk, a breakfast bacon roll from McDonalds and a stolen Sunday newspaper later and I was tucked up in bed, my ears still ringing with a huge grin on my face. It may not have been the longest concert I have ever seen, nor the most enthusiastically received by the performers, but it most definitely was one of the most enjoyable gigs in a long time.
