Review: Alex Murdoch – Pub Rock
Laura, 25, from Wandsworth, 5‘4’’, slender, employed in media, off mysinglefriend.com pre-date-dumped me.
‘How about changing coffee to alcohol?’ she wrote four days before the show. ‘I think it will help. Both of us.’
Well it took me a couple of days to get back to her.
‘7pm at Hammersmith?’ I asked, and waited for her reply. I signed in again on the eve of our date.
Laura has blocked you from sending mail to her.
After all that groundwork! Dumped before I even met the bitch. That’s a record. I wasn’t even stood up. I had my getting stood up opportunity – stood up. Stolen from me. I never even had the chance to be disappointed in a place that sells alcohol. I bought new volumising shampoo specially. I could take it back. I still have the receipt.
Plus I was crash dieting for five days prior. I only ate pitta bread, humous and celery. She was the one, the only one, and now I hate her and I feel just like the way Simon Cowell should and I’m never going outside ever ever ever again. Except to buy food.
Anyway I had to take Emergency Girl to the show instead. EG was grumpy, she had a migraine. As with other activities when EG contracts a headache one changes course.
And so it came to pass that only fifteen minutes into Pub Rock we had to sidle out quietly; though I hasten to add this had little to do with the gig. I personally was almost disappointed to leave.
Pub Rock runs on the neat conceit of having a superior cover band vacuum pack into an hour and a bit everybody’s favourite Guitar Hero cheese selection. In between the songs there is some vague characterisation of the members of the band and deliberately lame jokes. These sections seemed largely incidental, and to be frank, somewhat contrived. One senses the cast has spent too much time watching Ricky Gervais and Flight of the Conchords and mugging up on how to look gormless.
Nor is this a show for teenagers. The point of rock is surely romantic rebellion: the spontaneous overflow of emotion. A lot of it might be crap but at least it’s authentic; even the pastiches are felt. Pub Rock however is all about nostalgia, the jokes are cute rather than edgy, knowing but also a bit easy. There seems to be a strangely thin line between celebration and derision and I’m not sure this keeps to the right side. It’s still likeable because there’s no doubt Cartoon de Salvo are a charming bunch as well extremely accomplished musicians. I just don’t quite feel quite old enough for it.
Meanwhile on some deeper, incommunicable level girls apparently have an allergic reaction to it.
