Manchester, United Kingdom
Wed 20 Nov 2002
Jilly's Rockworld
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I've waited years for this. This Fishbone live event has long been the stuff of legend and I am so ready for it because to be honest I thought it was never going to happen. Fishbone have been moved to the sidelines over the last few years to such a degree that I had resigned myself to the fact that they were no more, thankfully I was wrong. True, their fanbase has shrunk to just a small core of, still very devoted, fans but their intensity and lust for their music has thankfully been left untempered by the unpleasant machinations of the music business.
Drawing fierce howls from a huge theramin at centre stage frontman Angelo Moore stands alone and impossibly stylish, replete in a suit, leopard print biker boots and a sailors hat. Ranting like a preacher in the throws of some righteous, possessed sermon he intones about the government and it's detestation of "the undesirables", stalking the stage amidst a fury of discordant drones.
Gradually more and more members take the stage to add subtle ascending nuances into the mix before exploding it into a frenzied cacophony. This is all we wanted and more. Moore is an irrepressible fountain of energy throughout tonight's show, some effervescent, ever-moving cartoon character, the consummate entertainer, his frantic animation denying all evidence that he is a man who has been doing this with the same enthusiasm since 1979. Whilst the rest of the band are far from slouches, themselves whipping up such a maelstrom of musical wonders it is almost impossible to comprehend, it is clear that Moore is the star and the focus of the show. Frankly if the rest of the band exhibited such uncapped energy as him they would all be dead, a crush of momentous bodies within five minutes of reaching the stage.
Fishbone have been long held up as a musicians band and a band for fans of extreme music but I honestly have to say you have no idea about musicianship and extremism until you have seen Fishbone at work. Absolutely anything is possible, though mere musical excellence cannot hope to achieve the deranged eclecticism and eccentricity before us this evening.
Metal and funk wrestle in a lusty mangle with ska, soul and avant jazz chucking added sweat into the proceedings. They pull virtuosity out of the bag in so many forms and with such a casual, laconic attitude that simply being in its presence leaves you stunned. The exhilarating gospel thrash of "Pressure" sends the crowd into a swarm of moshing bodies, Moore himself even joining in, hurling his body into the crowd with nary a flake of concern for his own body or anyone else's for that matter.
However brilliant they will always be, however, it appears Fishbone will never be destined to reclaim their early nineties Lollapalooza hugging peak. Although they occasionally show their distinct and winning grasp of songwriting convention, tonight's rendition of "Sunless Saturday" being a prime example, they seem unwilling to focus their talents into a concise enough wad to appeal to a widespread audience. Then again their career has never been about doing what is expected of them and I for one will be happy for then to go on confounding me for years to come.
adam farrer
http://emma.farrer.users.btopenworld.com/fishbonegig.htm