GoodBooks @ Faversham
By Danny Maher
I love gigs like this. You go down to some random (admittedly, in the case of the Faversham, glorified) pub on the outskirts of the city to see a band or two that you've never heard of and to be brutally honest, probably never will again. There's a sense of trepidation on stepping across the threshold because there's a chance, perhaps, that you might be about to witness the next big thing when they're still a very insignificant, inconsequential, 'average NME reader wouldn't piss on them if they were on fir'e thing. Like seeing Arctic Monkeys at Birdwell Club, or Franz Ferdinand at Brudenell Social. You might become part of musical folklore. I don't think anyone did etch their names into the annals of pop history last Thursday, but my word they put on a decent show trying!
First on was Kid Harpoon. A solo singer/songwriter type, of the ilk that strides on stage wearing nowt but a guitar and a smile. And he needed his sense of humour as ill fortune beset him from the very first song. He broke a string a during his opening number, managed to get a fresh guitar out and have an argument with his tech about the tuning of his new axe without ever missing a chord. The small but vocal group of fans who'd gathered at the front for him lapped it up! And while I myself wasn't quite lapping at his musical bowl, I was mighty impressed. His furiously strummed story-telling style of playing is far more Billy Bragg than James Blunt, but I fear he may be doomed to wonder the pubs and clubs scene for all eternity because of it. People don't want to be challenged by men with guitars any more.
Next on were Fields, an English/Icelandic 5some, who have a foxy keyboard player and a great line in epic folksy rock music. Quite spacey, a bit like what the Wannadies might sound like after being fed horse tranquillisers, their strong songs and a wonderful male/female vocal partnership filled the room and I got quite swept away in the mood of it all. They're one of those where you can't quite put your finger on who they sound like but I think Hope of The States without violins is the closest I could come to a comparison. Very good, but not the future of progressive electro-folk-rock.
Finally, the headline act arrived, all be it about 30 minutes late after plugging all their guitar pedals in. GoodBooks are a tremendous band full of great hooks and strange sounds. Part Pavement, part Athlete (Vehicles and Animals era) they plied us with great pop tunes, but with just enough of an off the wall twist that you feel you're listening to something new and interesting. The final word on GoodBooks must go to Georges' dad. He thought they were good. He thought they sounded like Supertramp. Georges' dad bought me a pint so what he says goes!
The music world is still spinning the same way it was last week, and my life hasn't been dramatically changed by a couple of songs, but I think both me and it are a little richer because of a few bands, and a lot of beer, in a large pub.
