Look, Im only 21, so when Scritti Politti were at it with their biggest chart smashes, I was still preoccupied with munching on mama-tits for three meals a day. Wait! Despite not knowing much about the bands history with all its highs and lows (Booo!!), I can justify my attendance at the Scala for the elusive Green Gartsides return to the stage by my own less populist, more personal experience of the weirdest pop artefact of the 1980s.
About four years ago I found myself in a secluded and long forgotten brick cottage in the wilderness of Southern France. Pitched two hours away from ANYWHERE, heaven forbid what would happen when we didnt stock up on enough loo roll to see us through the week. With so little contact with the rest of the world, it was with genuine romantic wonderment that I found a perfectly functioning (if a little dusty) LP player sat vacant at the back end of the cottages lumber-splitting, low-level loft, with a mint copy of Scritti Polittis Cupid & Psyche 85 propped up against it.
How it got there, who rightly knows? But I guess in some ways this small event epitomises Scritti Politti perfectly theyre pop when you least expect it.
So with this singular but really quite affectionate knowledge of one album under my belt (and what an album BOY! it makes you wish for a renaissance of the 17th Century Italian castrati with all those falsettos!), off I trundled to The London Scala to mingle in amongst a load of hairy old real fans.
What is there to say? Ive rambled on, way off topic, but only to avoid the awful truth for as long as possible: Scritti Politti were very very boring.
During the hour set, despite endless calls from the crowd for hit single Absolute, a nervous Scritti four piece failed to dish out the hits and played one ONE song off their biggest selling album and my Franco-retreat Soundtrack. I was disappointed, but thats my own fault for not boffing up on their back catalogue beforehand.
Gartside read lyrics off a sheet stood in front of him, and looked nervous on the stage before the sympathetic crowd. Why they were so sympathetic after cashing out to come see a pop show, thats anyones guess.
Song after song after song, some sweet, some quirky, some dire... despite individual highs and lows the whole thing sank into an unconfident mess that felt more like a private rehearsal than a headline comeback show.
It wasnt just me, the fickle youth, who had a problem with it. The old faithfuls populating the audience were slumped in lethargy too.
This is probably the most awful review I have ever written for egigs, and Im sorry youve had to read it. But I guess its also the fairest reflection of the subject under the spotlight. Unsure, directionless and without a decent ending (Even knocking out Wood Beez didnt save them), its probably just best to quit now before digging them (or myself) any deeper.
article by: Alex Hoban
published: 17/07/2006 09:29
FUTURE GIGS
sorry, we currently have no gigs listed for this act.