On Day 4 of this escapade I saw a band called Rum Shebeen doing their sound check. I didn't know they were doing their sound check until the singer asked me if I could hear them alright (this despite me being the only person in the room apart from the five band members). That night, at Easycome in Nunhead, I ended up watching a folk duo called The Lorcas and missed Rum Shebeen, because they were on last and I wasn't there any more. I liked the sound of Rum Shebeen, and so I vowed that, one day, I would see Rum Shebeen perform. Today was that day.
Dan and Tasha told me about the Flowerpot in Camden - "a minty-green, one-room pub at the heart of a very modern musical revolution" said The Guardian - because it has free live music every night. My kind of place. The band came on at ten and suddenly the place was packed. There must be a point when an upwardly mobile band's audience shifts from consisting mainly of supportive friends to consisting mainly of supportive fans. I think tonight Rum Shebeen's audience was still the former, but I don't think they're too far off tipping over to the other side. Or maybe they've just got tonnes of friends. I wonder whether artists are able to pinpoint a particular gig where the shift from friend-audience to fan-audience is obviously discernable, or whether it's subtler than that.
Anyway. Tonight. The music - think Ska/Sandanista Clash/Oi/Roots - "Werewolves singing their way into heaven" says their myspace. The moves - you know, running on the spot, skanking, bouncing. Band members and audience. Camberwell boys (and one girl) calling up the Camden spirit of Madness. Really good fun. Great tunes. Great gig. The End.
(Taking photos didn't seem to be a cool thing to do at this gig, and I'd hate people half my age to think I'm uncool, so here's another image for the dodgy undercover photography file)
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