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Jamie T at Wulfrun Hall 1st May 2007

Gigs // Jim // 5th May 2007

I’ve not been to a gig in Wolverhampton in absolutely ages, the last ones I can remember are Black Grape (when I nearly got trampled to death) and Sleeper (where I got red stripe all down my adidas-style Bluetones t-shirt). This trip down memory lane is accompanied by the equally historic noises of Senser (the diet version of Rage Against The Machine) coming out of Rich’s car stereo. We pick up Craig and make for the M6 – listening to Funky Moped by Jasper Carrott.

Getting to Wolverhampton, some nifty roadworks allow us to have a slo-mo tour of the local culture which consists of fried chicken outlets, sex shops (one of which offers “MARITIAL AIDS”, I laugh) and a large variety of retail operations that involve “’R’ us” or “4U” in their title. We all agree that it’s a bit of a dump, but Craig crucially points out, nowhere near as bad as Dudley. A town who, I venture could have the motto “It was like that when we got here…”, a joke that I already realise won’t be nearly as funny when it has been written down. I suppose that this means that Wolverhampton could equally put “At least it’s not Dudley” on their road signs.

Rich has a spare ticket, can he get rid of it? Can he fuck, which is very odd as the Wulfrun hall is pretty much full up when we get there. One of the bouncers is saying that Jamie T will be on at ten, so plenty of time for a few pints. Craig throws years of accountancy practice to one side and in an act of fiscal recklessness gets to the heaving bar to buy us all a couple of drinks. What a nice man.

Everyone in here is at least five years younger than the three of us and about ten years younger than we look. Stroll back into the main hall which is pretty packed as someone, who we presume to be the support act is stumbling onto the stage, oh, it is Jamie T and his band starting an hour earlier than expected. They start with So Lonely Was the Ballad and immediately kick into a fast paced, indie, two-tone noise, which belts along much quicker than the scruffy home-made beats of his records. Things seem a lot more urgent than when we saw him at the V festival last year.

The sound is dense and not great, which could be down to the venue but I’m not a sound engineer so I couldn’t tell you. Mr T’s mockney yelp clearly floats above everything as he bounces about the place, apparently wearing more clothes than I actually own, isn’t he hot with that jumper on? And the hat?

The crowd know every single word and are singing along in that slightly scary way where they are doing exactly the same sort of vocal inflections as the singer. This is best demonstrated on the acoustic Back In The Game when the bloke behind me is really giving it some in the chorus “Back in the ga- aaa – aaa - aammeee”. Impressive.

A couple of little kids are wheeled out for the chirpy and non-sweary If You Got The Money, I find this sort of thing a bit weird, it reminds me of something off Jim‘ll Fix It. The kids stand there looking a bit perplexed, while the crowd down the front are starting to get well into it.

Jamie is something of a character, but his between song banter needs a bit of work “You all oiiright?”, he asks for the fourth time before introducing a fairly mellow-sounding Calm Down Dearest as a drinking song. The slower songs don’t seem as good to me live, Alicia Quays which I really, really like on the album is a bit err, dull here, whereas Pacemaker is absolutely belting, The Jamie T live experience is built for speed, not comfort.

I’ve read that during the height of their success, baggy shorted chancers EMF used to play their uber hit Unbelievable as their opener, then again halfway through the set and then again as an encore. They must have been fucking sick of that song (and anyway It’s You was much better anyhow).

Jamie T is taking steps to make sure that his big song, Sheila, doesn’t become the same sort of millstone. They bang through it in no time at all, skip a couple of choruses and leave the singers in the crowd having trouble keeping up. He closes with a frenzied Brand New Bass Guitar, during which he goes mental and strips down to his last three layers. Is he trying to get down to his fighting weight or something?

Everyone apart from me is still holding their camera phones aloft and shouting “Joi-me, Joi-me, Joi-me”, in their best black country accents as he re-appears for the encore, would we like to hear a new song? Oh go on then as long as it doesn’t sound like Coldplay. Ah, someone has let down his side of the bargain on that one. He finishes off frantically with what in an EMF-esque flourish seems to be Calm Down Dearest again. That’s our lot by a stunningly civil ten o’clock or so, and they’ve shut the fucking bar.

Overall impressions on the way back to the car are pretty good, an hour was enough though and the sound really was a bit naff. Rich takes us on another quick tour of the road works and then uses all manner of anti-terrorist vehicular manoeuvres to make sure that we aren’t being tailed. Good lad.

T' Links

Jamie T web site

The world of the talented and horribly young Mr T

Whats on at the Wulfrun Hall

Good Venue, possibly dodgy sound