grillpanda

The courtyard at Somerset House is mostly cobbled, at least near the stage they have there for gigs. I’d like to think the discomfort this causes is the only reason why I found Joanna Newsom tiring on Sunday when she played there, but jesus did I want that to finish long before it did.

My feet were sore and my back ached sure, but the killer was this amazing harpist (at least for an indie schmo like me, I’m no harp scientist) wedging however many unwieldy piano songs into the middle of her set. By the time that interlude was over I was watching planes pass overhead, pigeons glow in the lights from the courtyard and yeah, the clock. There wasn’t an encore. I didn’t care. When she said there were only two songs left all I could think was “are they short?”

I’m a little freaked by the thought that I may have started to suck at going to gigs. I had the same feeling of disinterest set in at a Band of Horses show a few weeks ago. After a while I just wanted to sit down. Of course, being a sold-out show at the Shepherd’s Bush Empire, that may have had something to do with having to watch the band through the fucking bar. Seriously, do they consider that area valid space when they sell to capacity?

In the end I don’t know if I’m getting old or just becoming more of an arsehole but the things I’ve been to recently just haven’t ended soon enough. Well, most things except Parts & Labor. That show was awesome and gives me that little bit of hope that this problem is not down to me, just some shitty talent.