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Gonzales/Taylor Savvy/Peaches/Mocky/Louie Austen/Feist (live)

The Mean Fiddler, London 27 April 2003

I’ll be honest: I went for Peaches. Her 93ft East show last year was one of the most bacchanalian gig experiences I’ve had in recent years, a benevolent riot of loud, fired sexuality and abandon. But, truth be told, I’d really enjoyed the lyrical audacity / buffoonery of the few Gonzales tracks I’d heard. Someone summing themselves up as “a combination Joe Stalin-Woody Allen” has to be good for a laugh or two.

But right from the start of this so-called “Pre-retirement” tour show (“Is he or isn’t he?” seemed to be the theme, and perhaps purpose, of the tour title), we could see this wasn’t going to be some drunken orgy of fuzzed-up beats. One by one, the cast appeared: the “well-dressed” nu-vaudeville gentleman known as Taylor Savvy; the white-suited Vegas never-has-been,

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Mouse on Mars/Coil/Plaid (live)

Plaid's video showThe Barbican, London 27 April 2002

Part of the Only Connect series of live events, tonight was self-described thus: “The history of computer games has also been a parallel history of the development of electronic music . . . this evening’s performances are less illustrations of these sounds and more works informed by this history.”

Plaid (bottom right, tiny....)Well, Plaid set the scene well. They lived up to the computer games connection by serving up music that didn’t seem substantial enough to survive as anything worthwhile without their wonderful visuals. The video projection pulses as it tracks around a space filled with cubes stretching off into the distance, some pulsing yellow in time with the zap-gun beeps and beats; iron girders touch across a shimmering backdrop to create spinning clusters

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Tricky (live)

The Junction, Cambridge 9 July 2001

For whatever bizarre reason, this gig couldn’t be advertised. Having found out about it, having already missed Tricky’s appearance at Robert Wyatt’s South Bank Meltdown, and noting that his only other UK appearances this tour were at the V2001 festival and Penrith (remember Withnail spitting this town’s name out in a phone box? – yes, that Penrith), I had to check it out. I’d only seen Tricky before at Glastonbury, where I was totally blown away by his metallic trance, so different from his recordings, so unimpressive to everyone gathered to see Blur aftewards. His new album, Blowback, was suitably tickling me, and two of the tracks (“Girls” and “Bury the Evidence”) hinted closer than ever at his live sound. Seeing him at the sweaty little Junction

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Khan (live)

Khan Khan Kosmische Upstairs @ The Garage, London 23 June 2001

I‘d never heard of Khan (aka Can Oral) before hearing about this gig a few weeks back, but his odd background (Finnish mother, Turkish father, grew up in Germany) and his array of current collaborators (Kid Congo Powers, Diamanda Galas, Julee Cruise, Hanin Elias and Jon Spencer, among others) certainly grabbed my attention. Hitching back from Avebury on the 23rd, after three blissful days of rural loafing, I was in two minds about whether I wanted to dive straight into a small sweaty club, but dive I did.

I quickly remembered that, in most cases, I love plunging straight into city chaos immediately on returning from travels. There’s a balance just between Culture Shock and Surrealism that hits the spot. No one I knew could

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Primal Scream/Death In Vegas/Invasian (live)

Brixton Academy, London 22nd April 2000

I had a T-shirt ready for Death In Vegas. It had the cross-sectioned brain from the cover of The Contino Sessions on the front, with a Levi’s logo stamped across it. Underneath was the quote from Bill Hicks about every word from the mouths of artists who advertise being like a turd falling into his drink. In the end, for better or worse, I couldn’t be arsed to take it and throw it to them onstage. I was there for Primal Scream and just wanted to enjoy.

Still, I just couldn’t summon any enthusiasm for Death In Vegas’ set. I loved The Contino Sessions – that was exactly why I was so offended that they saw fit to sell “Dirge” to fucking Levi’s. Do they have a legitimate excuse? Did one of their mothers

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