Fontaines DC part two

Second time seeing Fontaines DC in a shortish while (last with Debbie before Xmas at Town & Country and this time it’s a bigger venue at the Brixton Academy. But first I meet Olly in the Bedford for a quick pint, only to avoid the rain you understand, then it’s back to mine where Lily-Rose makes pancakes, it being Shrove Tuesday, and Debbie makes gin & tonics, it being a Tuesday. Soon enough Cameron arrives and we’re off in the cold but dry night air to the underground. Out at Brixton we see Shaun at the Beehive but we’re not let in so we grab a pint with him inside the Academy and I luckily hand over my Arsenal card before he goes upstairs and we three go into the stalls to watch Toy. Read past reviews. Technically they should be great with a Stranglers bassy Hawkwind spacy vibe going on. Unfortunately to my mind they lack soul and grit and the only time I’ve enjoyed them has been at the Crows Nest at 2am having stupidly told them that afterwards. After a very lot of fannying about – how difficult is it to replace the 6 guitars of Toy’s rhythm guitarist with the 2 of Fontaines? – the main attraction appear on stage. Fontaines DC have attracted a far younger crowd than we I last saw them and a lot have Irish brogues. Accents not shoes. I’ve misplace Olly and Cameron and find myself in the mosh pit and after their first two energetic tunes realise that my phone has left my pocket which puts a damper on the rest of the set partly due to being pissed off and partly paranoid that my wallet and keys will also leave me. It’s non stop dancing where I am and soon enough I find myself rubbing shoulders, literally as we jump about, with my mates. Fountaines play a great set and I won’t go into the details except that we jump about between post punk Joy Division indie rock over to a bit more shouty hard core mosh pit inspiring punkiness with a little bit of Irish folksiness thrown in to let us catch our collective breath. Not a lot of chat from these lads but I guess the music and lyrics do the talking. They go down very well. Digressing, punk said it was ground zero at the time and it’s funny how it’s still seen as that with references to “post punk”. Although a few bands obviously blazed the way and it wasn’t an immaculate conception sent from up above it’s still seen as pre and post punk. I guess only the actual punk bands from the late 70s can call themselves punk without the post. Anyway FDC play their classics, OK their album mainly, and we are all very satisfied. No encore as is the norm, not even a weird dancing and singing along to an old song as we had with Black Midi and I forgot to tell you about in that review. Which was last week and with Olly too in Leeds by the way. After the band I try and find my phone on the floor. Apparently some bloke was caught nicking them and dropped about 6 before scarpering but mine’s not amongst them. Lots of interesting things on the floor including packets of white powder which I think is likely K the drug of choice with the young and probably responsible for the guy who pissed on the floor, puked on himself at the same time and then smelt liked he’d crapped himself. I wouldn’t usually subject you to such an appalling vision dear reader but just warning you against the lure of taking horse tranquillisers at a gig. After all our faffing about we get out too late to see Shaun who I assume has gone back over the river and at Balham we pop into the Bedford for a last drink. Unfortunately with a brush of my arm I knock mine over and a whole pint goes over Cameron’s jeans with Olly very helpfully telling him that not a drop went on himself. Ah, fatherly love. So it’s a cold walk home but at least Cameron gains a free pair of admittedly 2^nd hand, make that 3^rd hand now, jeans. Next day we’re all up early to leave and for me to get to a Vodafone shop where they very efficiently give me a new SIM. All in all an excellent evening despite our mishaps. Go see before they get too big and attract too many twats (there were a fair few there tonight).