Chasing Rainbows - Hightown Pirates live at The Water Rats, London (19/12/16)
Sometimes you worry that there may be some bias involved. A friend sends you links to a few songs that he's recorded (more on that process shortly) and you listen. And you're delighted at just how bloody good they are. You're delighted because there's always that thing, "What if they're no good, what if I don't like them, what will I say?" We've all done that, we all know that. But they're good, they're really bloody good.
There's still that seed of doubt though. The seed of doubt that falls on the other side, the side where you ask yourself, "What if I only like these because I like him, because he's a mate?"
Listen to your rational self, don't ask stupid questions, you know what's good, you know what works for you. These songs, these early mixes you're hearing, these are unquestionably, quantifiably, bloody good songs. They're bigger than you expected. Not that you knew what you were expecting. They're bigger than you think you probably would have expected though. Epic. Massive. Magnificent. Classic.
You still question yourself at the gig though. Is this actually as bloody phenomenal as you think it is or is the experience of the music all tied up with seeing a mate doing this, seeing a mate living the dream? It's the former. It is genuinely as bloody phenomenal as you think it is. It's also tied up with seeing a mate doing something as bloody phenomenal as this.
Some history then.
Simon Mason and I have some history. It's only short, there will be those reading this who have known him for much longer than I, but you know when you meet people that you just click with because you're into the same stuff, have the same touchstones, same reactions to the same music and love the same team? It's one of those. Si's the bloke that dropped me a line on twitter leading to a phone call, leading to a chance meeting, leading to being in a room filming a Mick Head gig, leading to producing a film and meeting a long list of incredible people. Chance meetings with incredible people can lead to interesting things happening.
Simon has history with The Water Rats, the rather more gentrified venue than I'd expected, the room that we're standing in as the band sound-checks, as I get the first inkling of how big this music is going to be. This is the venue that Simon walked into in the early nineties and saw this band from Manchester who were nothing yet but were about to be the biggest band of their generation, the band that he accompanied on adventures starting in this room and climaxing at Knebworth with a spot of introducing them on stage in Glasgow along the way. We're not doing all the history here. If you want all the history you need to read the book; it's a hell of a story and you'll find it here:
https://www.amazon.co.uk/Too-High-Far-Soon-Dubious/dp/1780576315/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1482150528&sr=1-1&keywords=too+high+too+far+too+soon
"I'm supposed to be keeping complications out of my life so I thought I'd get a nine piece band."
Slight misquote, I wasn't keeping notes. There are definitely nine on stage though, I counted them. Two guitarists; one a disciple of Steve Albini's harsh tones, the other a classicist in the Stones style, both meshing and intertwining in a way that you wouldn't expect to work but does, gloriously, in a manner reminiscent of The Hold Steady's multi-guitar attack which is, in itself, a throwback to the good time rock of Thin Lizzy. A drummer and Bassist who anchor the sound with a groove and swing. Sax and Trumpet providing fanfare and decoration, flute that dances around the edges of the tunes and harks back to Traffic's pastoral approach and, in Shona Carmen, a backing vocalist of the Merry Clayton stripe.
The band are, and I may have mentioned this above, massive. Epic, powerful, sinuous. We have obvious touchstones here; again, they're obvious touchstones which you wouldn't necessarily pull together: the afore-mentioned Hold Steady, the afore-hinted-at Oasis, the drive of the E-Street band, the big music of the Waterboys, the swing of a soul revue. They blaze and roll and drive and hit you with fanfares and solos; they're everything that you want a band to sound like and they're having the time of their life.
And it would all mean nothing without the songs. Simon Mason's at the front, clad in black, clutching an acoustic guitar, brandishing a tambourine, holding the stage that sort of changed his life, ignoring the idea that any moment came before this while embracing every moment that brought him here and leading a sound that's built from his entire life. It's a sound of hope, of joy, of purpose, of positivity. It's new starts and rebirths and the idea that there's always a tomorrow. And, if you read the book, when you read the book, you'll know that message is vital, you'll know that message is everything. The other message is one of inclusion;
"We're Hightown Pirates. And you know what? So are all of you." And part of me is wondering how many people in this corner of London realise that Hightown is an actual place rather than a state of mind currently conjured on stage and the other part of me is thinking that everybody wants to be a pirate at some point. And if you're going to be a pirate, this currently looks like the best kind of pirate to be.
There are hooks all over the place, break downs, build ups, melody and power. It's genuinely as good as pretty much anything I've seen this year. And I've seen some pretty bloody good stuff this year. The set is the album, the album is finished. Six months ago there wasn't a band, there was just a bloke on stage with an acoustic guitar supporting Pete Doherty on his solo touring somebody in an audience pointing out that that song he just sang should be recorded. Chance meetings lead to incredible things. Six months on, there's an album 'in the can' as they (whoever 'they' are) say and there's a pledge campaign for the mastering with all the usual added thrills you'd want and expect and a tour in the new year. Six months ago there was nothing but an idea, now there's everything else and the everything else is as great as you'd want it to be.
The nine people on stage, the one man with the songs, it's the culmination of a journey that started a long time ago and it's the start of the next one. It's a small stage in a small corner of London and it's bloody massive.
And it's only going to get bigger.
No bias here, something special just started.
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