Monday, April 09, 2007
They Gave Us Such a Thrill
So, we went to see B*Witched do a gig on Thursday.
We know! How ace!
Except it wasn't actually B*Witched as such, instead it was just Keavy and Edele, who are still trading off of the B*Witched name. And why not? The name clearly still has a lot of value, up there with other such contemporaries of the time as the Spice Girls, Steps and Mr Oizo. Perhaps we shouldn't have been too surprised that Lindsay and Sinead didn't make it. After all, Lindsay has no need to hawk her talents around some of this nation's less salubrious night spots as she can happily live off of her boyfriend's 911 millions, a band whose enduring popularity means that particular cash cow is never likely to run dry, while Sinead, of course, along with all the other residents, isn't allowed to leave St Mary's Home for the Elderly after 8 O'clock.
Mind you, it was, perhaps, appropriate that only 50% of the band was there, as, seeing as they didn't take to the stage til half midnight, we were half cut on cheap vodka and coke - we're nothing if not classy - by the time their performance came around, so we apologise in advance for the somewhat 'scrappy' nature of this review, but in essence, they were ace. Just like the old days, they were full of enthusiasm, energy and, if their vocals are anything to go by, helium. Keavy was also full of baby, being, as she is, pregnant. This didn't seem to be the case for Edele, but she did have a rather nice new fringey/wavey haircut, which more than makes up for her lack of fertility.
Setwise, they opened with C'est la Vie - no dad related ad libs, but the Irish dancing was still intact, which we're not sure was entirely wise given Keavy's condition - and alternated between new material and B*Witched classics, throwing Rollercoaster, To You I Belong and Don't Blame it on the Weatherman into the mix. We did the 'hands in the air' dance to Rollercoaster, though frankly with the state we were in by that point we'd have done the 'hands in the air' dance to pretty much anything. And, indeed, did. Their new material is of a more electro-poppy bent than the more full-on upbeat, happy-go-lucky sound of the original B*Witched. Indeed, it sounds like they're taking their cue from Rachel Stevens. Which, in terms of exciting, interesting and top notch pop music can only be a good thing, even if in terms of sales, success, and people generally giving much of a shit about it, it's probably not the best route to go down. Oh well, it's not like they need the money. After all, people prepared to sing, dance and bounce around in the early hours of the morning in front of a drunken audience who are largely there for the cheap drink and not the chance to see some genuine icons of nineties pop in the flesh are clearly doing it for the love of music and not the need to make some pennies. Ahem.
We know! How ace!
Except it wasn't actually B*Witched as such, instead it was just Keavy and Edele, who are still trading off of the B*Witched name. And why not? The name clearly still has a lot of value, up there with other such contemporaries of the time as the Spice Girls, Steps and Mr Oizo. Perhaps we shouldn't have been too surprised that Lindsay and Sinead didn't make it. After all, Lindsay has no need to hawk her talents around some of this nation's less salubrious night spots as she can happily live off of her boyfriend's 911 millions, a band whose enduring popularity means that particular cash cow is never likely to run dry, while Sinead, of course, along with all the other residents, isn't allowed to leave St Mary's Home for the Elderly after 8 O'clock.
Mind you, it was, perhaps, appropriate that only 50% of the band was there, as, seeing as they didn't take to the stage til half midnight, we were half cut on cheap vodka and coke - we're nothing if not classy - by the time their performance came around, so we apologise in advance for the somewhat 'scrappy' nature of this review, but in essence, they were ace. Just like the old days, they were full of enthusiasm, energy and, if their vocals are anything to go by, helium. Keavy was also full of baby, being, as she is, pregnant. This didn't seem to be the case for Edele, but she did have a rather nice new fringey/wavey haircut, which more than makes up for her lack of fertility.
Setwise, they opened with C'est la Vie - no dad related ad libs, but the Irish dancing was still intact, which we're not sure was entirely wise given Keavy's condition - and alternated between new material and B*Witched classics, throwing Rollercoaster, To You I Belong and Don't Blame it on the Weatherman into the mix. We did the 'hands in the air' dance to Rollercoaster, though frankly with the state we were in by that point we'd have done the 'hands in the air' dance to pretty much anything. And, indeed, did. Their new material is of a more electro-poppy bent than the more full-on upbeat, happy-go-lucky sound of the original B*Witched. Indeed, it sounds like they're taking their cue from Rachel Stevens. Which, in terms of exciting, interesting and top notch pop music can only be a good thing, even if in terms of sales, success, and people generally giving much of a shit about it, it's probably not the best route to go down. Oh well, it's not like they need the money. After all, people prepared to sing, dance and bounce around in the early hours of the morning in front of a drunken audience who are largely there for the cheap drink and not the chance to see some genuine icons of nineties pop in the flesh are clearly doing it for the love of music and not the need to make some pennies. Ahem.
Labels: B*Witched
