I have been waiting to see if anybody would post anything about the OC show at the Grove. But since no one has, I'll step up.
It was a last minute decision to go. I got called to jury duty on the 17th and didn't want to buy a ticket to a show in LA if I was going to be stuck in the crappy court system. Then, a week or so before the JD, I checked out the website and saw the show had been moved to the Grove, which is a hell of a lot closer to home. When I got bounced from JD, I decided to celebrate by hitting the Grove. (I know you don't care about this, but I am sharing it anyway.)
The Grove was not sold out, and all the seats were standing room, so getting in and close to the stage was not a problem. It has a tiered set of viewing areas with stairways in the middle. I got down to the front and stood next to the stair bannister with my back against the wall. Nearly perfect dead center, safely protected on two sides from the inevitible flailing bodies of the impending mosh pit. My apologies to the two Asian girls behind me who got a view of the back of my head at 6-6.
The opening act, Throw Rag, was OK, though not spectacular. The crowd started to get into them a little bit at the end of things. The lead singer, who was one of those skinny, contortionist types, was a little creepy. He came out looking like a flamboyant yachtsman, then basically began undressing song after song. Theatrics aside, he knew his role and seemed just happy to be there. He actually came out into the crowd after his set to watch the Pogues play.
When the openers started playing, the building was no where near full. It was a little worrisome. I wasn't looking for my first Pogues concert in over a decade to be an intimate experience.
The only other time i had seen the group live was in their brief post-Shane era. I had driven from Santa Barbara to see them at LA's House of Blues, and while I enjoyed the show, I really wondered what they must have been like "back when".
The Pogues came on and the energy level skyrocketed. I looked back and the crowd had appropriately swelled. Though I was later able to grab the set list from the mixer, I don't have it on me and can't recall exactly the order of what was played. (Interestingly, the top of the set list said it was from the Nokia Theatre on March 16, so at least a portion of it was identical to that show.
The rest of the evening is best recalled with a series of impressions
• Terry Woods telling the guy on the board that his amp was screwed up by pointing at the instrument and extending his middle finger. A few moments later, it was followed by a thumb's up. Woods looks like a pro's pro up there, no surprise.
• The looks and laughs that the guys in the band would share when Shane would screw up. Jem Finer, Woods, among others, would frequently just start laughing as they played along. It was "What are you going to do?"
• The effort that James Fearnley puts into his performance. Truly the Maestro. The looks of concentration as he tried to anticipate where Shane was going next. Also, dodging Shane's semi-whirling microphone. His performance was a treat to watch. I really felt he was the pulse of the band. He was also the bearer of bad news to Shane when they had to restart Dirty Old Town. I spent a good part of last evening reading Mr. Fearnley's dispatches from the east coast tour and was relieved to find that he doesn't know what Shane is saying, either.
• Loved seeing Phillip on Thousands are Sailing. A great song, a moving piece live. Last year I toured Ellis Island and found myself singing that song as I walked the hallways.
• Spider's bemused glances at Shane, then his screwing up himself and muttering "f*ck" with a smile during one of his turns fronting the band. His headbanging percussion duet with Shane during Fiesta was outstanding.
• Fairytale of New York. Wow.
• Andrew and Darryl. Nothing special, other than just getting to see them play. In retrospect, I wished that we had heard Star of the County Down. But I'll live.
• And Shane. Well, where to start? My first thought upon seeing him take the stage in his Elvis-esque shades was that he did look a bit like "The King" in his later years. A little paunch, a little stooped, but who cares? Nobody came to watch him walk. We came to hear him sing. Who knows what he said between songs? I'm pretty sure he called us (americans) murderers. Eh, I've been called worse. It was interesting watching him go about his show? A functioning drunk, or an amazing stage personna? Or perhaps a bit of both? He balanced his drink on his head for a moment, only to have it crash about his shoulders moments later. The cup later flung into the audience, where the recipient sniffed and shouted to the crowd "It's lemonade!" Shane would probably have slapped him for ruining his reputation.
He would flail his microphone around in a circle in front of him, trying to take out his microphone stand, nearly hitting Fearnley in the process. The capper was late in the show when he went to raise the mic stand and literally pulled the top of the stand out of the base, then went about attempting to put it back in. He finally was able to put it back into one of the three or five holes he was undoubtably seeing.
The voice was strong and the music was fine. And yes, he screwed up here and there, but the crowd and the band carried him. One didn't care that he messed up, and the other was used to it.
• And the crowd. What an eclectic group. From folks who used their senior citizen's discount card to kids who very well may have been concieved while their parents listened to Hell's Ditch. The mosh pit sprung up on stage left, showing once again that white people simply can't dance. White man's overbite in a mosh pit. They looked like the Festrunk brothers. I especially liked the late 30-early 40 somethings who jumped into the pit. Somebody needed to remind them that more than 50% grey hair means that you should not be moshing. Oh well. The key was that they were all having fun.
So thank you to the Pogues. Thanks for a getting back together and giving me a chance to see you live. Hope to do it again.

