So the other night me and our very own TRASH Dan went to see Kate Nash, after I wrote the last article giving you 10 reasons I didn’t want *you* to attend – you didn’t disappoint…
No. 1: You’ve aged horribly.
No. 3: You were so loud singing ALL of the tracks, I could barely hear her.
No. 5: You didn’t bring your fitter friend. Boo, pass me the lemons.
Anyway, before we fall out, let’s discuss each track (and hope it’s aged better than the audience):
- Play. An easy opener (for both album and gig), as it’s a minute long and for the live show, she almost literally pressed the play button (all loops and pre-records). Her girl band comes on, and from the guitarist’s face pulling I thought she’d gone and nabbed Haim. Haim they weren’t, but good they were.
- Foundations. This is where Nash floats onto stage – looking like that weird Barbie doll in a big dress your nan used to put over toilet rolls to hide them (why do people feel the need to hide toilet roll?). The crowd sings along with such volume it seems to scare poor Kate off stage after only a single verse – turns out this is all part of the plan – more on this song later when she plays it for real…
- Mouthwash. At this point, Nash comes back apparently dressed as a half opened Babybel, but it’s definitely a look – and we don’t care anyway, because Mouthwash is the gospel according to Nash, and we’re too busy rocking to her refreshed, harder sound. I’m not sure the sound technician, or Nash’s vocals are strong enough to compete with her big rock band sound though.
- Dickhead. By now she’s shedding layers at the rate of an Englishman in Benidorm, and we’re down to undies and half a chandelier in her hair – it looks cool but every now and then her and the lighting team blind me with it like Sid from Toy Story with that bloody magnifying glass. Her rock sound makes this track more angry than the original, which was fun, but it was cooler when she showed up that dickhead on the album by being totally nonchalant about it. Don’t get angry, Nash, get even.
- Birds. Out comes the acoustic guitar, and out come the waving arms to this slow number. It’s faithful to the record which feels right, but she sings little notes and bits differently – probably to get a fucking word in edgeways over this crowd who seem to think it’s all about them and their voice.
- We Get On. Having stripped herself down as far as decency will allow, she now strips down the music, to turn this nippy number into a duet between her and the electric guitar face puller – and it’s a smooth move. Everybody’s singing along *still*, but I don’t care because it feels like we’re all heartbroken and angry at that tart that “done some really nasty stuff down in the park with Michael” (one of my absolutely fav Kate Nash lyrics)
- Mariella. This is the first time in the gig we see a real and decent helping of Kate Nash Piano™, and we’re all quietly pissing our pants with excitement about it on the balcony (me and the oldies are seated, hoping for purist Kate Nash pop). Crowd are still singing. They literally don’t fucking stop.
- S**t Song. Having just got some pure Kate Nash Piano™, we’re treated to a knock off now from the support act. She does a decent crack at it, but I feel like I’ve paid for wine at the bar, and been served Schloer (the grown up soft drink) instead. Go home lady, you’re sober… One impressive feat in this song is the amount of jumping up and down whilst singing Miss Nash manages – but then, when you’re not famous for your voice, you’ve got less to lose. Just sayin’
- Pumpkin Soup. *refer to point 4. of original article* – this one sounds AWESOME with a rockier edge, probably the most of any song so far – a leopard never changes its spots, but a pop song can and will, and you’d better be ready for it.
- Skeleton. Some lovely vintage cartoon of skeletons fooling around with each other (not sexually, keep your mind out of the gutter) distract from the song a little, but we’re brought back to reality with a really creepy bridge, which, while perfectly produced on the record, actually sounds heavy and intense live in a way I didn’t anticipate – nailed it, Nash.
- Nicest Thing. I don’t remember this song from the record, or the night. #FillerNotKiller #SorryNotSorry
At this point, I want to take an aside to say that Kate Nash gives a very impassioned speech about being yourself, etc., whatever. It’s lovely coming from her, because she’s very openly battled her demons, but minus two points from Gryffindor for lack of originality – EVERY person on EVERY stage is always telling me to be myself.
On balance, she does get super passionate when she screams “Fuck all this right wing bullshit!”, and the crowd are so on board we all start chanting “Ohhh, Jeremy Corbyn” to the bassist’s well timed Seven Nation Army tribute.
- Foundations. Again. This time, for real. It’s everything we’ve been waiting for since she cock-teased us with it in song 2, and since I didn’t go and see her live the first time around 10 years ago – sorry about that. Nash crowdsurfs, and I can hear all the oldies on the balcony breathing a sigh of relief that they’re too far away to be load-bearing crowd members. It’s almost louder than the crowd downstairs, who are still singing, still louder than our Kate, still unnoticed by the sound-man/woman who fails to compensate, song, after song, after song.
- Little Red. Note we’ve gone off track list here, I’m all at sea, like someone pressed the shuffle button by accident. It’s really nice to finally hear Kate Nash’s voice though as this one is just on piano. She puts more emotion into the repetition of the lyrics (“knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-“ etc.) than on record, which up to now had annoyed me slightly.
Nash saunters off stage, I’m fuming because I didn’t get Merry Happy, and I have to remind myself that the word “Encore” is part of my vocabulary.
- A is for Asthma. This one was merely hinted at, and I’ll leave it there.
- Merry Happy. I’m skipping the other encore songs, because I can’t remember them, they’re not from Made of Bricks and I haven’t got enough word count to get this bastard finished. By this point, the lovely Kate has started singing words and phrases differently – maybe because 10 years does a lot to the way you sing, maybe because she’s remembered from Birds earlier that it’s the only way to be heard. Did I mention I’m annoyed that I can only hear the crowd, 100% of the time?
It’s too late to go and see her now, because we went to the last night, but you if you want to show your support, you can stream Made of Bricks here – I’m pretty sure the £0.0012 will make it to her royalties account in time for the 20th anniversary tour…