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Q Live review
LONDON ULU
October 2,1997
Bobby Gillespie is a happy man. A rancid-looking Moterhead T-shirt has
been delivered to him in Primal Scream's dingy dressing room wrapped in
leftover Christmas paper, upon which the words Rock 'Em Jock are
scrawled. "I'll wear that for the encore," he declares. Said T- shirt is
placed on a chair and promptly forgotten about.
This is only to be expected. Primal Scream, always on a different body
clock to the world, returned to London from Amsterdam this very morning
- having enjoyed what insiders are calling "a cracking night out" - and
Gillespie has much on his mind. Not least of which is this evening's
decidedly intimate benefit gig for the Liverpool dockers: the latest
stop on a tourthat has aireadytaken in large halls, European festivals
and a tent in London's Victoria Park, and one which has reportedly found
the band in wildly erratic form.
Gillespie believes that this unpredictability is symptomatic of Primal
Scream's ongoing quest to save rock'n'roll,
"Rock'n'roll is dead," he muses. "There's too much money in it and not
enough imagination. Nothing's happening. But we're just getting better
all the time, especially with the live thing. We're getting more
exploratory and innovative and free-form. There's more space within the
Vanishing Point songs, so we're able to stretch ourselves a bit.
"The first night in Victoria Park, we were fairly awful. But the second,
we were amazing. If Innes (Andrew, the band's musical director) is in
the right frame of mind it can be incredible." Hunt and Duncan Mackay's grubby
horns. The recorded version, which features Michael Karoli from Can on
guitar and the piano playing talents of a certain Liam Gallagher, is,
argues Gillespie, "absolutely massiveand magical". Theseare terms which
could also apply to the final quarter of Primal Scream's ULU set. A
almighty reading of Higher Ground [ed: are they idiots!] gives way to
Kowalski's brain frazzling blitz, during which the bass of former Stone
Rose, Gary "Mani" Mounfield, and the band's much-loved new drum machine
creates fair approximation of the sound of ajet engine going off ins
dustbin. A malevolent version of the aforementioned Motbrhead's
signature tune and a vicious swipe at? And The Mysterians' garage punk
anthem 96 Tears round things off as encores.
Back in the dressing room, beers are
cracked and a couple of garrulous
dockers' spokesmenjoin assorted
hangers on and the band in toasting the
night's success. This particular party is
set to run and run.
Paul Rees
Originally appeared in Q Magazine December 1991.
Copyright © EMAP Metro.
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