Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbott @ The Academy

I blogged here a while ago about my first gig, The Beautiful South at Leeds Town & Country Club in 1994.

Last night was a reunion of sorts, twenty years on and 200 miles west, in a different country.

Since that first gig, I've seen Paul Heaton numerous times, either with The Beautiful South or solo. Various small and large venues across the UK and Ireland, football stadia, fields in Somerset, even a café in Manhattan.

But this promised something different, albeit familiar. No longer solo, Jacqui Abbott would be back on stage alongside him. And they had a fantastic new album to show off, which they did from the start.

The crashing opening of "Some Dancing To Do" brought the band on stage, followed by Paul and Jacqui. And then Jacqui sang and I was suddenly years younger. One of the best female voices of recent pop has lost nothing in it's absence. I once read a review about Eddi Reader saying she could sing the telephone directory and it would still sound fantastic - the same applies to Jacqui.

But there was Heaton's back catalogue to be plundered, and each song brought a flood of memories.

"Old Red Eyes Is Back" triggered the memory of being tossed around the floor at that first gig like flotsam in a human sea.

I had forgotten just how good "Prettiest Eyes" was - I don't recall ever hearing it live. (Maybe one in a big shed somewhere?) It also resonated with me much more than it did in my single days.

"Rotterdam" - I was still word perfect after all these years. Naturally "Irish stout" got a huge cheer. (This also brought to mind the single's B-side "Pollard". Do look for it online.)

"Dream A Little Dream" (yes, not a Heaton original) - Christ, I spent seven quid of my student loan on an import CD of that!

"I'll Sail This Ship Alone" was my highlight of "Welcome To The Beautiful South" - and here it was being sung in front of me.

And from further back in time, gems from The Housemartins' brief burst of glory - including my first sight of P.D.Heaton on noisy guitar for a splendid "Me And The Farmer".

As usual, Paul had plenty of entertainment between songs: the dichotomy of Tayto crisps in the thirty two counties, a tale of a Battle of the Bands competition that involved Gary Glitter, an art competition...

One of the best gigs I've been to in ages. New songs fitting perfectly alongside old songs - some of which I'd never heard live or never thought I'd hear again.

All in all, brilliant.

And welcome back Jacqui! (The blokes stood behind me were certainly happy to see you.)

Set list:
Some Dancing To Do
Old Red Eyes Is Back
Costa Del Sombre
Rotterdam
Prettiest Eyes
Moulding Of A Fool
We're Not Deep
The Snowman
Build
When It Was Ours
Dream A Little Dream
Don't Marry Her
The Right In Me
Good As Gold
DIY
Happy Hour
---
I'll Sail This Ship Alone
Me And The Farmer
---
Loving Arms
Caravan Of Love

Genius?

In the aftermath of the Arthur's Day PR disaster, it's interesting to see the reappearance of advertisements for Guinness Mid-Strength around Dublin.

'Yes, we acknowledge the problem with drinking to excess - but here's something you can drink in the same vast quantities yet only be quarter-cut rather than half-cut.'

Cunningly, the ad also shows a pint of the full strength version, just in case you have forgotten what one looks like. Or fancied one of those instead.

To borrow an old advertising slogan: pure genius.

Saturday Night's Alright For Writing

Random observations from a Saturday night in Dublin...

1. I must have looked really tired - a group of (probably) drunk lads sat on a bench on the boardwalk wished me "safe home".

2. The Workman's Club is the only place in Ireland that I've seen a Wunder Bar soft drink dispenser. These seem to be standard issue in UK pubs and clubs.

3. There was a covers band in Fitzsimmons, blaring out some terrible tune. Whoever wrote the original should sue.

4. There was a group of pink rabbits on O'Connell Street bridge disguised as a stag/significant birthday party. They may have had myxomatosis.

5. I could get a milkshake in Burger King, but not at McDonald's. Therefore BK > McD.

6. DART trains still sound their warning horns at 11.30 at night. How did I block out/ignore this for over two years when living in Tara Street?

7. There were surprisingly few French rugby fans around. The most notable were sat outside a pub on Bachelor's Walk wearing pink, spangly cowboy hats.

Thanks to Phantom 105.2 for the tickets to the Rebekka Karijord gig. (Although being on the guest list consisted of a bloke writing my name down. In the event, the gig was fairly sparsely attended.)