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Long Blondes at The Astoria 20/2/2007

Gigs // Jim // 21st February 2007

Lucky Claire has a posh new house in Willesden Green, it’s massive with wooden floors and a load of flash furniture. Unfortunately it is also home to the largest collection of indoor lighting in Western Europe. Every room has at least ten spot-lights and a normal ceiling light, this cavalcade of illumination is all run from a bewildering collection of dimmer switches that adorn the walls like the flight controls of a large passenger plane. It’s a bit of a nightmare – I don’t know who did the wiring, but he wants shooting.

Off to see The Long Blondes at the Astoria, out of the tube station and we are accosted by an artful-dodger tout selling tickets, which is handy because we haven’t got any. The negotiations begin, he wants £25, I offer £15. “You’re ‘avin a larrffff, it’s sold aaahhht”, after a bit of this we get two for £35, which I am sure is a very nice night’s work for our young friend.

Grab a slice of pizza, which has some kind of crumbly topping on it, not a fucking clue really, might be an oxo cube, probably isn’t.

Dive in to a pub for a couple of looseners, a chap clutching a bible is being gently encouraged to leave by the barman, he starts preaching to Claire and the barman steps in once more. Returning to the bar he asks what I would like “I would like to tell you about my friend, Jesus”, I reply. The look that he gives me could best be described as withering. This pub’s got toilets that make even a short arse like me feel a bit tall, I bang my head twice walking back up the stairs.

Into the Astoria and Claire gets a right old feel from the female security personnel, nice to be popular. Hand in coats, get cans of red stripe and gently barge our way into the throng to see a bit of Brakes who are the main support tonight. Brakes do two sorts of songs, slightly muso, mid tempo indie rock and ten second long screamathons. It is ok and quite funny.

A campaign of military precision is carried out in order to carry out toilet and drinks duties. We get back in front to the stage, try to work out what the band's logo reminds us of and before long The Long Blondes appear, kicking off with a pounding Lust In The Movies.

Kate Jackson is the main focus of the band, she’s a bit of a mover and is decked out in hot pants which receives universal approval from the audience where I’m standing.

They rattle through some tracks off the album and the crowd is jumping around and generally getting into it, things slow down for Heaven Help The New Girl before they do the excellent A Knife For The Girls, which is definitely my favourite song of theirs. There’s a bit of between song banter, but you can’t really make it out, agree that she doesn’t sound all that much like she comes from Sheffield.

More jumping around, oh dear I’ve accidentally stitched someone called Kevin, well, these things happen. The Long Blondes are a really good band, but apart from Jackson and guitarist Dorian Cox there ain’t a lot happening on stage. Fortunately their tunes are all pretty catchy, even the ones I don’t know from the album.

Giddy Stratospheres and You Could Have Both are excellent and they finish off with a punky Separated by Motorways before a really quick (and apparently unique) encore.

A sequence of events including standing too close to a bin and being allowed to push into the queue for the cloakroom see us out on Charing Cross road well before eleven. In a stunningly sensible move for a Tuesday night we somehow decide that it is time to find a pub, only this being London, everything has closed. We go on a four-mile trek to find somewhere open late, during which I give away almost all of my money to a collection of the least witty and entertaining homeless people that I have ever met. They are all dressed much more smartly than me, which admittedly isn’t saying much.

Get drinks in the Freedom bar, notable for:
- The fact that they will only sell you a half.
- You only get one poxy paper towel off the bloke with the aftershave when you go to the toilet.
- There is a proliferation of deerstalkers (well there were two - but I’m calling that a proliferation)

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