Showing posts with label Luke Haines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Luke Haines. Show all posts

Tuesday, 17 November 2009

Luke Haines @ Brighton Hanbury + Resident Records

A CD plays as Luke Haines steps into Resident Records shop in Brighton for a pre Hanbury Club mini acoustic warm show. “Kill the music, because that’s what I’m about to do,” he announces with a wry smile. It sums Haines up perfectly - witty, funny, knowing and eccentrically miserable. He’s carved himself a neat niche which has endeared him to an audience since the early nineties when his original band The Auteurs almost made it. Their biggest two singles hit forty one and forty two in the charts respectively and they were allegedly runner up in the Mercury Music prize for New Wave. Fifteen years on and Haines is now being lauded by a number of critics as one of Britain’s greatest and most under rated singer songwriters. When he ends his set at Resident Records with the line “Life is unfair, kill yourself or get over it,” and then adds afterwards “That’s an inappropriate ending if ever there was one,” we’re inclined to agree with those critics.

It seems that so are many others. The Hanbury Ballroom is very busy and the reception Haines receives is warm and friendly - the conquering hero returns again. Placing a glass of red wine to one side his band launch into a career spanning set with a song that Haines acknowledges will be the happiest he sounds all night - the gentle Suburban Mourning. It’s a ballad where the loathing biliousness is laid aside as Haines sings in his soft murmur of a voice of couples getting married, a missing child being found alive and “There’s no evil in the everyday, just good honest people who pay and pay.” It’s as close as Haines gets to bringing the sunshine. It’s followed by the stop start indie of The Auteurs Show Girl a song which demonstrates that Haines has always been an accomplished guitarist as well as a lyricist to be heralded. “I’m Luke Haines, thank you and goodnight,” he states cheekily after those two numbers. A career in stand up could possibly follow.

Dressed in a suit and sporting a carefully coiffured down-turned moustache Haines takes his audience on a journey of murder songs such as Freddie Mills Is Dead, waffling rants linking Gary Glitter and Ricky Gervais fans, through to the should-have-been-a hit-but-wasn’t rock riffage of the self proclaimed meta-Motown-Dad genius Lenny Valentino. At the end his encore lasts all of ten seconds as Haines decides it is too much hassle to leave the stage. He just carries straight on, such is the perverse and almost disobedient nature of the man. It is this personality and character that people love as much as his songs, particularly in the live environment, but never let it be said that he doesn’t have the tunes to back up the persona. Luke Haines shows Brighton that he may have not won the Brit Pop war with The Auteurs, but that sometimes the losers are the real long term winners.

Friday, 6 November 2009

Luke Haines - 21st Century Man

Luke Haines - mastermind behind The Auteurs, Black Box Recorder and a number of solo projects. A misfit, an outcast, a social commentator, a man who brushed with fame but lost it. Haines has in the past come across as one of the most arrogant but also absurdly loveable songwriters the UK has ever produced. If you haven’t read his book Bad Vibes: Britpop And My Part In Its Downfall and have even the slightest interest in music, put it on your Christmas list. It’s caustic, hilarious and brutal in its assassination of the leading Britpop cast and shows how his own ego, paranoia, drugs and alcohol led to The Auteurs failing big time. It is a brilliant read.

Yet ironically after the Auteurs Haines achieved critical and commercial success with Black Box Recorder. He even scored a bona fide hit with the song The Facts Of Life. Whilst his new solo album 21st Century Man will never return him towards the mainstream or the charts, it has many aspects to it that make it worth parting cash for.

From its opening line of “It’s the same old story we’ve all heard before, about the Satanists who moved next door, they met their match they didn’t stay for more,” on Suburban Mourning you know that this is not going to be your typical singer songwriter album. David Gray or James Blunt, Haines is most certainly not. There’s a song about German actor Klaus Kinski coming back from the dead where Haines whispers softly “Who needs people? Who needs friends? They only drive you round the bend.” Other titles include Russian Futurists Black Out The Sun and White Honky Afro. It’s fair to say that with songs like these Haines is putting his name up for the title of one of the great British eccentrics. Whilst the singer may be endearingly odd, it isn’t always loveable stuff. The savagery of his words are turned on himself for the song Our Man In Buenos Aires when he sings “Looked in the mirror, I said who’s that fucking freak?” We wouldn’t want to meet him on a bad day. However when he is being a little less acidic he sings of southern suburban heaven - a land of milk and honey, which he references as Guildford. But even then he can’t but help mention the Guildford IRA pub bombings of the 70’s and the fact that part of The Omen was filmed in the towns cathedral.

With such entertaining lyrics it’s easy to be distracted from the music. Generally, the tunes and melodies are solid with some variation. There’s a glam rock stomp on Peter Hammill and Wot A Rotter and an almost Ray Davies sixties influence on Love Letter To London. The best two songs however are those that bookend the album. The opening aforementioned Suburban Mourning brings a lush electric twang and acoustic strumming that sounds like a long lost Black Box Recorder tune. Then the near seven minute title track features gentle orchestral strings laid to an opus about Haines life which concludes that he is a 21st century man, because that is the century in which he will die. The irony of Haines singing that he is a 21st century man is that there really is nobody writing songs quite like Haines these days. His music is deeply unfashionable and out of time, and all the better for it.

This album is a welcome addition to the Luke Haines catalogue. Musically it is sound, often seeming from another time, but lyrically Haines frequently gets close to the levels of greatness. 21st Century Man will not reach any sort of mass consumption, but for long term fans or for those who have discovered him through the Bad Vibes book, there is much to delve into and enjoy.