To those unfamiliar with Malcom Middleton – and there will be a fair few on his tour with the wooly-hatted one – there must be unspoken thoughts. E.g.: is he really that miserable? Opening with ‘Desolation’ it`s not the cheeriest of starts. For those who do know Malcolm`s work, A Brighter Beat is of course just that – a lively and (comparatively) chipper affair, but for those doubters (and those involved in the counseling and therapy careers) things are – surely? – put in perspective with `We`re All Going to Die’. Malcolm is still not one for audience interaction, though he cracks a smile on stumbling over the lyrics of ‘Speed on the M9` – “I always get the biggest cheers when I forget the words,` he says, making a plan to incorporate this adlib into future shows. It may not be clear but lines like `going to get in a fight just for the company,` meant fairly sincerely when recorded, can now generate laughs without guilt. When he closes with ‘Devil and the Angel’ and the line “my songs are pish` there are a few new converts in the audience to dispute this claim.
The last time Damon Gough played in Edinburgh he was apparently showing off pictures of his new-born son to the audience. This time at the forefront of his thoughts was a rather more difficult child: album Born in the UK.
And yet, it seemed to start so brightly. Indeed, the Boy asked that the show be moved forward half an hour – meaning a few latecomers missed some of Middleton`s set – so that he could play for a full 2 hours. 3 songs in, he – and half the audience – would have been wishing he`d not bothered. 3 songs in and he`s already wanting to `get this fucker out of the way` deeming it a miracle if they can complete it successfully. Given that the new material is, whisper it, prog rock, its complexity should come as no surprise to anyone present, least of all its creator. And inevitably, he completes the song note prefect but like any good tortured artist, he`s not happy. A variety of strops put down to poor sound, his relationship with his music, and most bafflingly, `tired arms`, mean songs break down and his long-suffering band have to keep up with constant pauses to adjust (or headbutt) the mike stand, and previously familiar tunes are interluded with Stockhausen-esque piano battering or Pete Townsend-like flailing on the guitar. When he rushes through `One Plus One` and ‘Have You Fed The Fish’ with an hour gone, you feel he is indeed getting these out of the way so he can get back to his therapist.
After the break, however, there`s a change. It looks like it`s the same chap fronting the band – baggy trousers, long hair topped by a brown beanie hat – but no, it`s another person – either that or the Boy of the first half has had a good talking to over the half-time oranges. But from whom? His manager? A stern mother? An embarrassed first-born? Or even Middleton, who may easily have suggested `come on, things could be worse!`
There’s an apology – mumbled but seemingly heartfelt and embarrassed – blaming his relationship with his music, and then he`s back on course, going non-stop through his back catalogue, and even ignoring a few microphone problems and feedback squalls. He even takes on the persona of lounge singer on `All Possibilities’ (aka `The Comet Electrical Song`, wandering the stage, shaking hands with the front row, waving at fans, and quite possibly whispering `Where you from? Edinburgh? Wonderful town!`)
By the end he`s taking requests, bantering with the band, and having his picture taken. Bizarre, but a victory certainly snatched from the jaw of defeat.
Still, as the song nearly has it, there`s only two Damon Goughs.
