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The Dears @ Birmingham Carling Academy 9th Feb 2005

Gigs // Jim // 12th February 2005

A few words that spring to mind regarding the evening of Wednesday, the ninth of February:

Boring, disappointing, half-hearted, fundamentally untalented and woefully under prepared.

But fortunately I didn’t watch the football (Andy Johnson wide on the right? Sven, what the fuck is that about?), I went to see The Dears instead and they were completely great.

After meeting an accomplice, who for the sake of anonymity I will call “Mr. Walsh”, in a strangely subdued Birmingham city centre, we decide on something to eat. Opting for the quick and dirty, we go to Pizza Hut where the waitress bangs on about the size of her arse (looked alright to me) and the beer is suspiciously warm.

Just time for a pre-gig drink at the subterranean Yard of Ale, only it isn’t because the bloke on the door says they are “closed” as the very “open” sound of music and laughter drifts out from behind him. As we walk away he shouts after us “Sorry I didn’t realise it was you. I recognise you, in you came lads.” Having never, ever met him before we nervously shuffle inside and have a quick pint while another England team are heroically losing at cricket.

Eventually we make our way to a rather busy Carling Academy where the sort of alcove thing that comprises the second stage is full to overflowing, much to my surprise. Support band Ambulance twang away in a melodic fashion and everyone in the half-hour long queue for a drink is a would be music journalist. Highlights include:
“This lot are just soooo wanting to be The Thrills. Aren’t they? Aren’t they?”
“I’ve got the new Snow Patrol album, they’re the new Coldplay. I reckon”
“Have you heard it? It’s like early Radiohead mixed with the Strokes, my girlfriend’s sister’s boyfriend’s gardener’s husband’s cousin saw them at an airport and they were like soooo cool.”
“I’ve heard that they are like the Canadian Smiths. Well it said so in Q”
Yawn.

After Mr.Walsh procures a couple of Carlings we jockey for position and await the main event. Following what I think was a Brian Eno meeting something else intro tape, The Dears take to the stage to a drawn out, and frankly epic, version of the-bass led Postcard From Purgatory.

Camera phones are really good aren't they?

Unlike the incredibly overpaid Ericksson and his shaky looking 4-3-3, The Dears opt for a solid looking 3-2-1 with the seriously indie looking rhythm section and guitar to the left of the stage. Midfield solidity is provided by the two studious ladies on keyboards and other bits and pieces, who even at this early stage are attracting lustful glares from the predominantly sad looking male audience. Up front on his own in a lone striking role is target man Murray Lightburn in a sweat inducing combo of beard and leather jacket.

On record Murray does sound a bit like Damon Albarn and as he approaches the microphone clutching a melodica I wonder whether the comparisons may go a bit deeper. However once he starts singing all worries are cast aside, he has a great voice, far less restrained than on any of The Dears records I have heard. Whether this is down to the illness that the majority of the band are revealed are suffering from or not, I don’t know.

Mr Lightburn’s singing isn’t the only thing that is less restrained than I was expecting . The Dears really go for it in a way that fans of their album, No Cities Left may not expect. Those quieter introspective moments on the album are thrown to one side and they power through their huge sounding, epic (there I said it again) tunes with the swaggering style of a band who probably know that they really are very good indeed.

The Dears: Epic, sick

They play a large chunk of the album plus some new stuff, one of which was called something to do with a lake of fire I think, although that may well be wrong. Either way it sounded blinding and will probably keep a bundle of people busy on those naughty file sharing networks in the near future.

After an all too short set, the band retire only to return for a rendition of the super, scuzzy sounding Heartless Romantic which I can recommend seeking out. Murray is croaking something about the song being written in the 1700s somewhere in Africa, all that Lemsip must have gone to his head. Then they are gone and it is a dash to the doors of the Academy, trying to avoid a broken ankle due to the twelve thousand plastic pint glasses strewn across the floor.

Unfortunately, this was the tail-end of The Dears UK tour so even if my hyperbolic ranting has persuaded you to go and see them, you can’t. Unless that is you are lucky enough to live in the sunnier climes of Europe or Australia. I’m sure that they will be back though and almost certainly in bigger venues too, so keep an eye out.

PS If any of the band happen to read this, get well soon.

Some Dears Links...

The Dears web site

You'll need those pop ups enabled...

Interview With Murray Lightburn

From some New York web site or other, good supergroup line up

No Cities Left Review

From the Stylus Magazine web site

Birmingham Academy

Stop off for most bands on tour around the UK