Aye, okay, a joke’s a joke. The first album was good. The concept sounded crap, but the results were good. Surely taking the show on the road is one step beyond what they can get away with ? They are after all just another covers band, aren`t they ?
On the contrary. The live show lifted what they do to new heights. If they were British they would be the Mike Flowers Pops. A joke with a shelf life ranging from 2 minutes to 2 months. 2 months at a push.
Nouvelle Vague however are French. Do not underestimate the difference that this makes. What you get on stage are not covers, but sincere interpretations of songs from an increasingly lauded and rediscovered era of music. Two eras in fact. The South American jazz influence is every bit as sincere and put over with impeccable craft. This is where nationality comes into it. Tribal baggage gives way to a more genuine appreciation of music whatever it is, whenever it is from. I am not sure that a British outfit could get away with what Nouvelle Vague do without looking like at best a joke, at worst, incredibly pretentious.
Most of the 21 songs are a classic in some sense. Some are played straight – in their own style of course. Others they take their time over. The unlikely choice (relatively speaking of course) of The Cramp`s Human Fly provides the first opportunity for some free flowing from what are a group of accomplished musicians.
Not long after, Too Drunk too Fuck provides the opportunity to highlight the bands other live strength – the knowing sexiness exuded by the two female singers. One dark haired and black clad, the other lighter, draped in a white top. Even from a cold piece of plastic stuck in a stereo, the Nouvelle Vague version takes this song to places the original, and indeed the lyrics, never designed it to go. Live, the females take over, knowing that they have the males eating out of their hand . The dark clad girl writhes on the floor forcing out the words. The white clad girl is up the aisle encouraging audience participation. It`s not cynical. It`s just a tradition that has been there for hundreds of years from Marlene, to Marilyn, to Madonna. They are assured, it`s fun, everyone knows where they stand. In fact it is often forgotten that the term Rock and Roll itself is an old euphemism for sex. Nouvelle Vague haven`t.
It`s not all about cheap thrills however. The music is always at the core. Sweet and Tender Hooligan is interpreted in a sweet and tender way with one acoustic, one vocal. Grey Day by Madness is unrecognisable but brilliant. Drums only with one vocal. The percussionist plays like an octopus on amphetamine at times while the vocal delivery turns the grey to dark. Similarly the Specials b side Friday Night Saturday Morning has a new lease of life. The hum drum delivery of Terry Hall replaced by a continental outsider somehow make the lyrics of this comment on working class recreational drinking seem all the more salient. I am sure she has never stood in someone else`s spew with piss stains on her shoe. Most could identify with Terry when he sang it. When she sings it the ridiculousness of such behaviour hits home.
The encore features Paul Haig as a singing guest on Sorry for Laughing.
There are to many versions of brilliant songs to list. The earnestness of the performance dispelled any thoughts about them being purely a novelty act. There is a seriousness and a suss about them. Who knows where they will take it, but for now I am grateful to have shared an unexpectedly great night in their company.
