Richard Nevin goes on a voyage of discovery.
We’re approaching the time of year when it’s deemed acceptable to watch John Candy and Steve Martin’s attempt to get home for Thanksgiving. Its almost festive feel, just the right side of mawkish can set one up nicely for the season of goodwill and as the last vestiges of October faded away, lit by Halloween lanterns and gorgeous autumn sunsets I made my own journey cross country, not to reunite with family but for the sake of live music. Fortunately, there were no major setbacks, any Casio watch trading or even a sink full of underwear although it was terribly overcrowded at Waterloo station.
My car took me to South London, bus and train to the famous station with the clock and the tube to Chalk Farm and The Roundhouse, a venue I’ve always wanted to visit and my third time watching Public Service Broadcasting in concert. So, what about planes?
The subject of the band’s latest project and subsequent album is Amelia Earhart, aviation pioneer who disappeared in an attempt to circumnavigate the world hence the title of the record The Last Flight. The stage backdrop is a replication of the cockpit controls of Earhart’s plane, handily placing the screens where the dials would’ve been and screens are an essential part of the PSB experience, mixing live shots of the band with the myriad of archive footage that is a hallmark of the London-based collective.
The new material, on first listen not particularly striking, came alive onstage with the visuals helping to tell the story. Eera, the singer songwriter was once again alongside PSB and very much to the fore, particularly during the gentle A Different Kind Of Love, a gentle ballad from the new release and something of a departure from the usual, mainly instrumental fare.
Of course we also had a selection of the material that has made PSB something of a cult attraction. From Spitfires to steam trains, space exploration and the Welsh mining community to German engineering, while it couldn’t be described as greatest hits, greatest tunes it certainly was.
The Roundhouse is an historic venue, at one time a turntable for locomotives, art has been the occupant for some decades now, and while there are ornate pillars to break the view of the stage, the feel of being in a building dripping with echoes of the past is always a nice one these days. You’re bought swiftly back to the present quickly when purchasing beverages and the same could be said of the pub opposite but the exceptionally mild late autumn weather made al fresco drinking possible lending an almost summer air to the build up to the gig.
Band leader J Wildgoose Esq, all dickie bows and politeness, stands almost as conductor stage left, augmented by compatriots Wrigglesworth, JF Abraham and Mr B plus a mobile and excitable three person brass section, cheerleading stage front.
The only blot on the copybook was the aforementioned Wildgoose specifically introducing more from the new album prompting a minor exodus towards the facilities, inexplicable, but twas ever thus as we all seek solace in familiarity.
A four song encore, climaxing in Everest and adding mountaineering to the subject list, bought proceedings to a close.
We rounded off the night by indulging in the new and frankly frustrating sport of spotting the number plate of your Uber amongst all the other vehicles in the gloom of municipal street lighting, adding a taxi to all our other forms of transportation, but by far the best vehicle to happiness was watching a band you enjoy so much in a live setting.
