I’ve always been interested in Courtney Love’s music, as it teeters on the brink of the sharp divide between rock and pop. Songs like Celebrity Skin (with her band, Hole) are a prime example. Anyway, I went to see her last night at Rock City in Nottingham.
The support act was White Miles. Now there is a difference of opinion here – I thought they were great, and my mate (who I go to these gigs with) wasn’t too impressed. They describe themselves as “a dirty pole dance stoner blues rock duo”. If I was describing them, I’d say they were along the lines of The White Stripes, but more energetic. The sound that the two of them produced was quite impressive. Certainly, one to keep an eye on.
Courtney Love was on stage on time, and she put on an impeccable show. She kicked off with Wedding Day (apparently, her new single). Later on, a bit of The Beatles’ Hey Jude got my mate all cynical (as he always is of any attempts by other artistes to play “the classics”) was played Courtney-style. This was later followed by Skinny Little Bitch – another one I liked from a while back.
It’s hard to believe that she’s nearly 50. The encore of the hour and a half set closed with Doll Parts.
I was surprised at the relatively low turnout. I’d say that the hall was about 50-60% full, but at least it meant that you could stand comfortably without people trying to get in front all the time (plus it was easy to get out at the end).
Courtney didn’t swear anywhere near as much as I was expecting her to, but the brief periods of expletives brought squeals of pleasure from the mainly young (and probably underage) female crowd. In fact, given that she was interviewed on BBC Breakfast last week I suspect she might be mellowing a little with age.
Unlike her original band, Hole, the current supporting musicians are all male and they’re a very tight outfit.
The lighting was good, and it made for some great pictures, as you can see here (you can read Courtney’s tattoos in most of them on the originals).
We finished off the evening with an interesting curry in the Mogal-e-Azam, as usual. That place has gone weird – they have two chefs now, it seems, and both have totally different approaches. Pilau rice shouldn’t really have sweetcorn, green beans, and peas in it, and it shouldn’t be cooked in chicken stock – but it did last night. Add to this the one we had a few months ago, where my Chicken Methi had about half a kilo of fresh Methi leaves in it (dried Methi is the flavour you want when you order a Methi dish), and you can see why “weird” is the best word to use. It was still nice – just… odd.
Fortunately, I’d made sure I had no lessons until this afternoon. I miscalculated with my dietary preparations earlier in the day yesterday (line your stomach with something fatty) and the beer hit me harder than I would have liked, and I had a bit of a thick head this morning!
But another fine musical interlude in the middle of the business of teaching people to drive. At the moment, the only gig lined up is Status Quo later this year – December, I think – so something needs to come up to fill the gap in between.