THE FALL
July 16, 2003 Austin, Texas-
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Nothing breaks up the relative calm of a Wednesday night like some
caustic punk music to fill the veins. Old school British punk
Mark E. Smith hit the road with a rag tag collection of band members
for some exclusive tour dates across the states. Sober and
experienced, Mick Jagger ain't got nothing on this one.
I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness was the
first band out, and they churned out some dark punk that set a nice
tone, but also carried two singers. The younger of the two was a
distraction, and unfortunately, sang most of the songs. The second
band was largely forgettable and more upbeat punk, and the crowd was
solid and glistening in sweat by the time the Fall was about to take the
stage. |
The Fall in action.
more photos by Dixon
here |
The Fall took the stage decked out in all
black, drummer first, followed by the bassist and an out of place,
young, pouty little hottie in a low cut black top and a short, gold lame
skirt. I turned to Paul and asked if he knew how old Mark was when
she was born. We both said 40 at the same time, unbeknownst to us
at the time that 1) despite looking 63, Mark is only 46, and 2) that
young pouty girl on the Casio was his wife.
The music started, the band sounded great,
and Mark E Smith prowled the stage, seemingly distracted, muttering the
words into the microphone with authority (if that sounds unusual, it
was). The band definitely was the band, and Mark was the act.
He would rumble around the stage, grabbing microphones, yelling lyrics
into them, and then turning his back to the crowd and adjust some
speakers for the next few verses. It was entirely engrossing, with
rampant sounds filling Emo's, the crowd soaked it all in.
I thought the band sounded great, wielding
a large history of songs and didn't seem to hold back at all during the
show. All eyes focused on Mark E Smith, who roamed the stage like
a sober drunk looking for a drink, knowing there is none. He
casually stared blankly past the crowd, his arm outstretched, and
sometimes, his hand would catch his eye and he'd continue to non-chalantly
recite lyrics while investigating the back of his hand. He left
the stage entirely during their last song, tossing a microphone into the
crowd to let them sing the last five minutes. He came back out for
a second encore and just let the crowd revel in his cheeky arrogance.
As odd as it sounded, the show was great,
oddly inspiring, and combined with Texas heat, definitely exasperating.
The crowd at Emo's - Paul
(bottom right, Michael, far right)
more photos by Dixon
here
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