ROCK The Rolling Stones
Edinburgh: Murrayfield Stadium, Fri 4 Jun Mair Was it Bill Hicks or Denis Leary who pointed out that The Rolling Stones are still regarded as 'the world's greatest rock ’n' roll band’, even though a quick audit of their income would more properly reveal them to be 'the world’s greatest T- shirt salesmen’? Whoever it was, merchandising is what keeps Stones tours afloat, and they've outdone themselves this time with one of the most bizarre items ever to be flogged in the shadow of a stadium.
Basically, it’s like a thumbless oven mitt in the shape of the famous ‘lips’ logo. What in God's name for? Not, as you might think. to muffle applause for the sake of local residents. No, their true purpose becomes apparent when Jagger tells the crowd, ‘I think it’s fantastic you waited so long for us to come' — like we had a choice - and a thousand of these items shoot into the air and have a jolly good waggle. Now wouldn't a sight like that cheer you up as you were preparing to play throwaway toss like ‘Respectable' for the 10,000th time?
Charlie Watts may be the most loveable Stone, but it's a bit rum to charge thirty quid to listen to his bass and snare drums thumping for half an hour before anyone thinks of turning up either of the guitars to audible levels. The sublime intro to 'Gimme Shelter' is thus drowned out and, generally, it's not a good night for Keith-lovers. The spectacle, though, is the important thing. The Stones do everything expected of a stadium act and try to do it one better. And in one aspect they actually do, playing a segment on a tiny stage amidst the crowd that gives no space to strut and forces them simply to play. The R&B that emerges is the only time they sound like they're paying tribute to something
Mick Jagger: Lip-o-function
other than their own legend.
Ignore the video screen and you can't even tell that their faces are cracked with age, which is the usual jibe made whenever the Stones decide to roll again. The point isn't that they're still doing it in middle age, it’s that the spectacle itself was ludicrous in the first place. As Richards and Wood play pirates in a multi-million- dollar travelling panto, Jagger sashays past the front few rows showing that he’s actually become Tim Curry in The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Quite how a Home Counties interpretation of African-American folk music ever ended up as high camp for straight people is something we may never fully understand. But the mitts were the icing on a very stodgy cake.
Texas: home-coming queen and general bees-knees
Meanwhile, Sharleen et a/ are riding the charts like pissed cowboys at a rodeo, bucking their way to the Top Ten and whooping their way into mega million-selling hog heaven with White On Blonde and The Hush.
Who do you think is havrng more fun?
This concert kicked off in the kind of carnival atmosphere normally reserved for Tory MPs losrng prevrously safe Scottish constituenCies. Spiteri has got the gallus gift of the gab and before we'd got more than a handful of songs into the concert she had invited the entire audience on holiday with her.
Given that that's unlikely, she dished
POP ' Texas
Glasgow: Barrowland, Sun 30 May 73'! 3"? “it '3‘?
You can say what you want about Texas and indeed lots of people do. The usual gripe is that they are safe, bland and boring. That their songs are anodyne mush and that because they sell records by the bucket load they must be tripe that appeals only to the lowest common denominator of musrcal tastes.
What elitist indie bollocks. These whinging hairies wouldn't know a good pop tune if it Jumped up and wiped its arse on their well fingered copy of the NME. Frightened by the glare of success, these grey creatures prefer to mope about in the shadows of underachievement, safe in the knowledge that their favoured pile of obtuse gunar wank or unlistenable electronic noodle will never sell more than half a dozen Singles and Will remain forever exclusive and therefore more worthy.
up the next best thing and threw herself into a vibrant set that took in everything from a cover of Prince‘s 'Take Me With U’ to a crowd-pleasing resurrection of 'I Don't Want A Lover’. A dash of SOul, a large portion of Motown stylings, the odd bit of hip hop and a hefty dose of rock shenanigans all got thrown into the mix and given a thorough spanking from an energetic Spiteri.
The result7 Smiles all round from another sell out audience. Remind me, who are Mogwai again? (Tara Foster)
LOCAL LIVE Lungleg & The Yummy Fur Glasgow: Nice 'n’ Sleazy It's goodbyes all round tonight, as this is The Yummy Fur's last ever gig with the Current line-up, and Lungleg’s last ever gig full-stop. Perhaps the Yummies have been celebrating jUSl a tad too excessively, or maybe emotions have got the better of them, but for whatever reason, their performance tonight is nothing short of a shambles. At one p0int, they appear to have drifted from their usual cacophonous guitar/synth pop into experimental Jazz, as they all seem to be playing different tunes in different keys in different tempos. And their keyboard sounds like dodgy 70s electronic game ’Simon', but louder. Quite horrible. Fortunately, Lungleg are on form, and more than able to compensate for Yummy Fur’s disappornting show. Their brand of female vocal-led funky, chunky, punky melodic pop is upbeat and raucous, and has the punters gettin’ well jiggy With ll. The band don't seem particularly sorry to be Ieavmg the scene, in fact they seem posnively gleeful, nearly every song ends With the statement, 'That's the last time we’ll ever play that!’. Happy they may be, but it seems they will be sorely missed by Glasgow‘s gig-goers. (Kirsty Knaggs)
Tin Comic Edinburgh: The Attic
Depl0ying the voluptuous purr of Miss Shirley Bassey to introduce the set ('Goldfinger' playing over the PA), the moment they walk through the door, Tin Comic appear somewhat preoccupied with the time. 'We’ve got to be off by half ten or the big man Will give us a kicking,' says the singer blithely. Proceedings punctuate at 10.23pm, so 'the big man‘ probably lets them off with an ear cuffing. A local three-piece just signed to Human Condition Records (home of the likes of imperial Racrng Club and Eugene Kelly), Tin Comic join the dots between the radio friendly pop of REM and the scratchy noise of Big Flame (obscure racketeers much admired by John Peel CITCa 1984). In a word: animated. (Rodger Evans)
STAR RATINGS 1': 1k * ir i Unmissable it it * if: Very 00d i ‘k a: Wort a shot * * Below average ‘k You've been warned
10—24 Jun 1999 THE LIST 43