Gecko, the Slackers

 

Jazz Café, Camden

 

10^th August, 2010

 

Jamie

 

This was my first trip to Camden’s Jazz Café, though not for want of trying.  Trying, in fact, to the point where I’d developed a bit of a complex about the place.  Why do I never manage to get there?  What actually goes on inside.  In the end I spent the afternoon daydreaming about some kind of Bugsy Malone-style prohibition era speakeasy, packed with a dense fog of cigar smoke, and old men puffing away like toads.  It’s not like that.  The closest I saw to a gangster was a poster up saying MOP are playing there soon.  Right.

 

Still, they’re also getting Chaka Demus and Pliers, and the bouncer was really nice.  He ID’d us all and then said “thank you.  Enjoy the show”.  Charming chap – he should get a job over the road at the Odeon.  They’re all nice people there.

 

The rush down meant we missed the start of Gecko’s set.  It’s a shame, because they were really up for this show, and had made the effort to dress up especially and look sharp, even sharper than usual.  Still, we were in not long after and quickly in to the happily swaying early crowd.  As always, Gecko have brought a big posse with them, but they’ve obviously made a few new friends tonight as well: the thoughtful, pleasantly surprised faces on cautiously swaying bodies betrayed a fair few folk discovering and enjoying a great new band.  It’s a great feeling, isn’t it, that?

Gecko are on form too, fittingly, and the night’s off to a bang: their idiosyncratic take on uplifting acoustic pop is an ideal choice to open the night tonight, and quickly fills the room with a rich, smooth sound – this is a really top, confident performance, and all the tiniest little details in their sound are really honed.  They look and sound confident, still lovably cheeky-chappie, but polished and self-assured at the same time.  The Jazz Café are eating out of their hand, and really getting in to it.  You can see it most obviously in the Library They’re playing with a bigger PA than I’ve seen them with before and the quality is really good too.  The overall effect is just mint.

 

By the time Falling Down and the new song Camden get an outing the room is bobbing along very happily.  I especially like Will’s line “whether you’re a person or a panda”, but that’s for a CD review.  Camden, though, gets a big “ahh”, from the growing crowd, because it’s a new song and it’s shy.  Clearly, then, it’s all working out for Gecko.

 

The last two get split up with a pretend encore, with their anthem Guanabana Juice announced as the last song, and the deadpanned “well, this is unprecedented” introducing an encore of Toots and the Maytals’ 54/46 that later becomes Pressure Drop.  You can’t help but feel that these guys won a few more hearts tonight.

 

The Slackers enter to a giant roar and, as you’d expect, milk it for all it’s worth, before setting about turning the heat and the volume up a few levels.  They set off with a quickened up Keep It Simple.  They’re playing a set, two, actually, that’s made mostly of requests and a few rarities seeing as they were here just a few weeks ago.  A quick hunt through their discography, though, reveals jus how many songs they actually have to choose from.  I was taking notes, but struggled to keep up (alright, I couldn’t stop dancing) and it seems the set list I managed to nab off of Jay’s amp at the end had long since gone out the window.  Fried Chicken  was definitely in there, and there was one point where Vic stopped to tell a story about not knowing who he was or where he lived and ended up rambling his way in to the Stones’ Get Off My Cloud and morphing it, without warning or explanation in to the Troggs’ Wild Thing.  It’s tough to say for sure, but you’d have to doubt those were requests, even if there is a slightly older crowd here tonight (no offence, guys).

 

In keeping with the venue and with the theme, the night became more and more like one of the more old-school shows, each of the songs being broken down, and everyone getting a solo.  Dave’s doing most of the serious talking while Vic, in his top-hat, keeps it entertaining with his shuffling, rambling speeches.  At one point he claims that his true family/genetic background originally came from the swamp. How it Feels and Not Enough to Feed My Girl are next, but it’s all mashing in to one, really.  Come Back, Mr Tragedy and Please Decide bring the first half to a close.  There’s a fifteen minute interval (that was when I found the MOP poster) and time for London’s most expensive cider. 

 

There’s also time for one of life’s great celeb moments.  Glen Pine, my favourite Slacker, came and tickled Chips on the head.  It was beautiful.  *sigh*

 

It’s much the same vein as before, but quicker.  Run Away and Tool Shed both get an outing before Peculiar becomes a surreal, drawn out, improvised jam thing.  It’s very exciting.  The party continues, faster and faster, hotter and hotter, and a lot of legs are starting to get sore.  From being squashed right up next to the stage you can see the rest of the front row snake all around the room and a few are skanking from memory by now.  But in a good way.

 

Exhausted, we make it to an encore that centres around Propaganda, and some shouted conversation that Vic has had with a girl squashed in just along from us earlier on.

 

“What’s your name?”  “Propaganda!”

“How are you ?”  “Propagandaaa!”

 

“What’s your sign?”  “Propagandaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

 

That was Vic’s recollection of it anyway.  Going on the rest of thenight she might actually have told him she was from the swamp.  You never know.

 

It’s been a long night.  Exhilarating, but long, and hot.  The Slackers were impossibly good fun.  Half stumbling, we pick our way through discarded Red Stripe cans and out in to the aftermath of a rain storm.  It’s getting on for midnight, it’s pitch dark and the street’s soaking wet, but it’s still warm outside, and, you can’t help but feel, we’re all still warm on the inside.

 

 

Gecko’s next London show is at the Water Rats on Thursday 30^th September.