The weekend before last, I ventured back to the musical youth I would have had if I’d been slightly older and cooler, and took in a My Bloody Valentine concert.
MBV concerts are notorious for their volume, and in fifteen years of gig going it was the first time I’d seen posters recommending, nay pleading, that punters take up the offer of free ear plugs on offer.
And if you think I’m being something of a pussy boy, check out the following extracts from some of the reviews in the mainstream press a couple of days later.
“They even reprised their old finale, which they used to call their "holocaust": an explosion of tinnitus-inducing white noise that erupted in "You Made Me Realise" and was sustained for at least 15 unforgiving minutes. A demented light show added to the sensory assault” (Financial Times).
“Anyone for tinnitus? My Bloody Valentine made their live return after 16 years of slow-motion procrastination this weekend, handing out free earplugs to anyone who had forgotten what ruthless sonic assaults their gigs used to be... Finally they reached the most famous part of their set — You Made Me Realise, more than 15 minutes of cacophonous, single-chord madness and the most intense live experience I think I’ve ever had. Some audience members looked genuinely in pain, many kept their hands in the air like the brave ones on a rollercoaster. It was far from enjoyable but it made clear why, so long after their creative peak, people still speak with awe about this remarkable, deafening band” (thisislondon.co.uk).
“The night ends with You Made Me Realise, the 1988 single that famously contains 40 seconds of screaming noise instead of a middle-eight. Tonight, it lasts 20 minutes: if you tentatively remove an earplug, it is like being punched in the side of the head” (Guardian).
I guess, judging by the varying length of You Made Me Realise, that the Guardian reviewer was made of hardier stock than the other critics (although I have it on good authority it was actually 24 minutes long).
In all honesty, I can’t say the free ear plugs made that much difference to the volume of the band (at least not without the added aid of my hands pressed to my ears). My tinnitus was so bad the day after the gig that I simply had to email my boss and say I wouldn’t be in work that day.
But what the ear plugs did filter out was the sound of irritating chatter from nearby punters during the evening. There’s nothing worse than having a group of people next to you who have to talk all the way through the gig, especially when it’s about things that have nothing at all to do with what’s going on on-stage.
It’s bad enough having some cunt chanting the name of the song it’s completely obvious the band will do (Verve gigs are ruined these days by blokes chanting: “Go on! Do ‘istory! ‘istory!”), without listening to someone recount the weekend’s activities and what they’re having to eat when they get home after the gig, during the song you’ve been waiting over a decade to hear played live.
The only drawback to having earplugs in is that when you try and hold a conversation with someone it does sound akin to someone masturbating and talking at the same time. I’d recommended everyone try this at least once (the talking with ear plugs in bit, natch).
Now all I need are a set of nose plugs, and post smoking ban gigs might start to become vaguely pleasurable activities once again.
