The A.M. @ Cockpit
By Danny Carr
A sparsely populated Rocket bar greets us tonight, surprising considering who is playing but nevertheless, we obtain some drinks and make our way to two of the twelve spare stools. People enter in a confused state looking around the room wondering if the gig has been cancelled, no folks, it just seems that no one is playing out tonight. I find out that Paul Marshall, tonight's support act, is going on a bit later at 8:45pm. No one minds really.
We follow Paul into the Rocket venue and he takes to the stage. His bewilderment regarding attendance is quickly shared and then he opens up confidently, creating a very full sound with his guitar, while his deep timbered voice exhibits range and a certain soul. The smell of Mr. Muscle with added vinegar breaks my train of thought and when I come back to my senses I hear Richard Ashcroft, Michael Stipe and Adam Duritz (if that is how you spell his name) all rolled into one. The songs are strong, especially new one, Plaster Rain, which really showcases Paul's range and the emotional content of his voice. As the room fills up a bit, Paul's confidence and general onstage happiness is extended. He says he is nervous but he does not show it and while I would like to see him make a little more use of his higher range I find his performance soothing yet powerful.
Most of the people who caught the back end of Paul's set stay in and decide which area of the room they are going to stand in to watch The A.M. It's a kind of unspoken agreement between us all to make the room look as full as possible. Through the crowd and on to the stage comes The A.M. Most people here are obviously here to see Michael Tighe, if you don't know why then go find out.
Anyway, he poses for a photo then tunes his guitar onstage while the rest of the band, including Parker Kindred and Andrew Wyatt tune, wait and relax. Then they put on their instruments and it's a cool vibe. Yes, if an 'unsigned' band behaved like this I would slate them for coming on stage in such a manner BUT (deep breath), Tighe looks fantastic in a white Trilby, pink jacket, black hipsters and white pointy shoes and everybody in the whole venue is in a state of relaxed anticipation. Tighe floats across the stage in slow motion and a pre-recorded announcement heralds the introduction of The A.M. and first song, Utopia. We rock gently through this and Changeling until we are told that Tighe loves saying that word - 'Leeds' and he introduces England England. I believe that this song could have a shout for Eurovision, Euro '04 or even the new National Anthem. It spits along, injecting venom into the crowd who bop, nod and tap with uninhibited joy. If I Was The Sheriff, the debut single, commits the crowd further, even rousing two individuals to abandon their personal piece of the Rocket to come to the front and dance. I can feel myself being pulled forward to the stage, in particular by Michael and Andrew Wyatt, who is part elastic man, part puppet and part snake hips judging by the way he moves. They have a certain presence about them, a coolness that is inherent, not enforced and I find my eyes glued to the stage. But You're Wrong is based around a machine gun riff that rat-a-tats into a MC5 inspired chorus, while Chanay is slower with a great melody. Colours and Revolution Life Dreams kick in and rock in all the right places. At the end of the set, The A.M. don't take much persuasion to stay on for another song and Tighe's attitudinal pout leads the way as he struts, part Jagger, part Bowie, part Al Capone, part Clockwork Orange, all American lover, across the stage. The band then hang around to talk to 'the punters' while the staff and bouncers at the venue can sniff an early finish and are sweeping away at our feet. I wonder over to Hot Stuff considering what I have just seen and heard. Comparisons to early Bowie, Neil Young and English post punk are quite evident but I think that it is clear to anyone who witnessed this performance - The A.M. have need no to rely on their history to prove their worth.
