Mark E Smith, lead-singer of The Fall has built up a reputation as one of Manchester’s most famous old bastards.
Manchester has been home to many old bastards.
And to qualify, Mark E Smith’s crimes in the past year have included: some comments on how squirrels are rats with tails (like how pigeons are ‘rats with wings’, a phrase uttered at least once in every conversation that has ever been had about a pigeon).
He also showed a publically-professed hatred of indie-folk mainstays Mumford and Sons.
And a publicly-professed indifference to Kate Bush (and possibly that is not true either, it can be exclusively revealed. In the words of an unnamed source close to the star: “don’t be daft, of course he likes Kate Bush.” So why did he say it? How could anyone say that? The answer is: I don’t know.)
The Fall were at Lower Kersal Social Club on Sunday night to play one of two shows for the Salford Music Festival.
The hall space had a homely air: union jack bunting, paisley wallpaper and an unnecessarily giant clock made the place feel like a wartime train station.
A selection of phoned-in nuggets of bile were bandied about onstage (‘Salford University students, you are laughing’), but anyone looking for any really cheap topical quotes would have been disappointed.
It might have been the setting (in his hometown, at a festival run by one of his closest friends), or the fact that energy was flagging from a recent long run of shows, but my overwhelming impression at the end of the evening: Mark E Smith doesn’t seem that bad.
Everyone seemed quite happy. Discord and strife were in as short supply as crisps and peanuts at the bar (i.e. there were none – my only criticism of the evening.)
And most importantly, the sound that the band made was as rich and comment-worthy as it has ever been.
In any article written about the Fall, it is almost compulsory to include Smith’s famous quote about the high turnover of Fall members over the years: “If it’s me and your granny on bongos, then it’s [The] Fall.”
There was no need for my nana to dust off the drums tonight.
An endearing cohesion between all involved was in evidence, Smith displaying a fatherly willingness to delegate singing duty among the band, like a serene and even-tempered Mr Rochester to a band of bright-eyed Jane Eyres.
After one song, Smith quietly let the audience know that this was the first time the group had performed it.
Pride in the work being done, and a rigorous set of self-imposed standards are as much a hallmark of this band as inventive language and midi-keyboard.
If you want to be mathematical you could say the Fall don’t do anything by half. And as such the current line-up has two drummers, two keyboards (to one keyboardist) and Smith himself held two microphones.
That’s right – two whole microphones.
Starting and finishing with songs from recent albums, The Fall does not, by default rest upon its laurels.
No greatest hits band, experimentation and trial and error are a staple of their gigs, with the exception of one or two songs the results kept the audience in the mesmerised bubble that has kept them coming back for more year after year.
As Salford Music Festival is otherwise dedicated to showcasing new musicians, the band provide a very important continuing function for the event as the only ticketed event, providing enough revenue to make or break the whole operation.
There is some kindness in that, if nothing else.
And as the band’s Greatest Hits record title (50,000 Fall Fans Can’t Be Wrong) points out, they have a very dedicated following.
The names on the guest list were abundant and the room clearly filled with friends, some people paying out for two nights in a row.
If the Fall’s popularity is really only a shallow novelty based around the front-man’s quips and jibes then someone had better let some of them know.
Image courtesy of Charlie Battson and Salford Music Festival with thanks
