Category: BR Content

Words by Ceri Black

7 years since their debut album, ‘Over the Counter Culture’, The Ordinary Boys embark on their final UK tour. The O2 academy was their Birmingham host, on what was possibly the coldest night ever recorded in the city. Wrapped up and excited the Birmingham Review went to see them check out.

Originally from Brighton, The Ordinary Boys shot to fame after lead singer Preston’s stint in the Big Brother house. They released a couple of mediocre, albeit catchy pop songs (Boys Will be Boys, I Luv U), Preston married a celebrity wannabe, Preston divorced a celebrity wannabe, and the band promptly split up. Now, 5 years since setting foot on a stage, The Ordinary Boys’ ‘Somebody Maybe’ tour is both a reunion and farewell to their Ordinary Army; the band’s consitently loyal fan base.

Of which I’m one. I’ve been a massive fan of The Ordinary Boys since I was 17, and, if I’m honest, tonight’s gig was an opportunity for me to regress into a screaming, girly mess. In which I did myself proud. Suitably embarrassing my friend with my shrieks of delight, mainly aimed in Preston’s direction.

The O2 Academy, however, was quite empty. The bar service was slow and the merch table kept collapsing; not the most professional of set ups. But even despite the lack of a crowd the atmosphere was positive. Everyone was there in total support, fervent in the knowledge this may be the last opportunity to see them play live. Lyrics were chanted, fingers were pointed and mosh pits were, well, moshed. Even the trumpet section of ‘Seaside’ was sung along to.

The band themselves were full of energy. Preston bounced around on stage like an excited teenager, and during ‘Weekend Revolution’ he took to jumping from the drum kit in animated style. They sounded great too, and were clearly having genuine fun in performing.

A rendition of The Specials’ ‘Little Bitch’ was my personal highlight, with everything set at maximum volume. And although at one point my stomach was vibrating from bass, I left the 02 Academy with a sweet ringing in my ears.

Despite finishing at the unpunk 9.30pm, a bit early for grown ups, The Ordinary Boys gave Birmingham an energetic and enthusiastic performance. As the O2 blurb said: ‘a string of loud and fast live shows’. And whilst there was neither a packed house or new, raw material, when both band and crowd love a gig that much, you have to ask, is it really farewell?

Widely unknown until Celebrity Big Brother, a rickety career ladder to stand on, The Ordinary Boys are back on the road after a 5 year live show hiatus. Armed with a new guitarist, bassist, keyboard player and pet cat, lead singer Samuel Peston is ‘freaking out just thinking about how fun it’s gonna be.’

Getting their name and hair from Morrissey, The Ordinary Boys were once happy foundations of the British neo punk scene (walk away from the Google browser, I just made it up). Influenced by Britpop and the mod revival, the musical equivalent of photocopying Dickens, their first album was a screaming tirade of teen angst and BO. Songs like ‘Maybe Somebody’ and ‘Talk Talk Talk’ gained them a certain notoriety in certain circles, whilst the rather obviously titled ‘Boys Will Be Boys’ from their second album nudged them into the limelight.

Then in 2006 Preston entered Endemol’s house of fame death, married the winner, stormed off Never Mind The Buzzcocks (oooohh Amstell, you big bully you) and flushed the whole thing away. Now, 3 years after announcing the band’s official break up and carving a path into writing and production, he joins drummer No2 – Simon Goldring, for eleven dates across the UK. A reunion tour the O2 Academy Music Group bill as ‘giving their hit tracks the send off they deserve in a string of loud and fast live shows’.

The terms ‘hit tracks’ or ‘reunion’ may not be appropriate, The Ordinary Boys never achieved significant chart success and 60% of the line up are new, but it’s the word ‘deserve’ that sticks out the most. The Ordinary Boys’ Maybe Somebody Tour won’t be the original line up, there’s no public pretentions about a comeback, no ‘previously unreleased’s lurking in the background, and other than the O2 Academy bar takings it’s hard to see any gain. So what’s this really about? Rewarding support or just public masturbation?

And The Ordinary Boys have maintained a fervent fanbase, one that seems to be doing a better job of promotion than their label ever did. But if this tour is really for them why has it taken the life span of my niece?

And whilst I duck the flag waving retorts from The Ordinary Army, riddle me this. What happens if the gig sucks? You know, bubbles can be both blown up and burst. And again all that’s left is a sticky mess of regret.

Ceri Black will be at the O2 Academy, B’ham on Dec 9^th for the Birmingham Review

For more gig info visit http://www.o2academybirmingham.co.uk

1997 has a lot to answer for; the death of Princess Diana, Tony Blair becoming Prime minister, and Hanson releasing ‘Mmmbop’. Now, after 5 years and three marriages, the Oklahoma trio are back touring the UK. Birmingham Review went to the HMV Institute to see how they’ve grown.

I’ll admit, I had concerns about attending this gig. Mainly that I was going to be the only person in the venue, outside a couple of 30something’s dressed head to toe in Hanson merchandise. But with an open mind and emergency bar tab, I dragged myself into town on a cold Sunday evening. As it turns out so had 750 other people, mostly women, all of whom knew every lyric to every song performed. It seems Hanson are far from forgotten in certain circles.

One fan even waited outside the HMV Institute for 7 hours, in the bitter cold of Digbeth, just to make sure she got a ticket. Baffling. I was certain if a survey was conducted a higher percentage would tick the ‘Hanson are drivel’ box. Someone’s been lying…

Eventually, Zac, Isaac and Taylor Hanson appeared on stage. What happened next was an hour and a half of sugar-coated, lyrically feeble pop. As a group, Hanson know what they’re doing. Taylor’s guitar skills are adequate, and vocally his harmonies and timing were solid. A proficient performance, but one I felt lacked originality and depth.

The lyrics to ‘Strong Enough to Break’ didn’t seem to make sense, and ‘This Time Around’ sounded like something from the Dawson’s Creek soundtrack. The more acoustic tracks such as ‘Go’ and ‘Lost Without Each Other’ were more audibly pleasing, almost acceptable – even to me, but again containing no lyrical substance. They felt impersonal, without any intimate meaning to the person who wrote them.

However Hanson clearly know how to give their fans what they want. The crowd was enamored by the brothers, and when the inevitable rendition of ‘Mmmbop’ started I was the only person in the room not screaming with delight. In fact, I was embarrassed. I wanted to hide my face and pretend none of it was happening.

After 14 years in the music business Hanson Have a dedicated audience. Pop obsessed, unsettlingly enthusiastic people. Fortunately I’m not one of them, and as I left the HMV Institute I felt confused (and a little angry) as to how this kind of music is still as popular as ever. Which when it comes to Hanson, it clearly seems to be.

Shout It Out, Hanson’s third album under their 3CG Records label, is out now. For more info visit www.hanson.net

Words by Robert Kornreich

Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. The dance. The digital music. The lighting, video, graphics, all just… I’m sorry to sound gushy but while I watched ACE’s new production I thought: this is not happening; bodies can’t do this. But they did.

OK, so what’s it all about? I’ve seen Gail Parmel’s amalgamation of African/Japanese choreography before, in and outside of Birmingham, but I’m still influenced by production spiel.

ICE promised to explore the gradual freezing of people, into physically and emotionally static transhumans who can resist change, aging and pain. All too intriguing not to unravel.

Then, once the protagonists are ‘frozen’ in time and emotion, to carefully pick away at the flipside; the ambivalence of the thawed, the breathing, life, re-attachment, loss and death.

Throughout the production a staccato-like martial art-like dance swept across the stage, whilst urgent, melodious electronic, drumming and sporadic strobe lights perpetuated the scene. And although the MAC presented this in a rather thin, wet and New Age way, it did make the point that the work builds and radiates tension. Gloriously.

But the most engaging point was that ICE is not just a story, or narrative, but an experience of raw visceral, visual and audible energy and power (see, two can play about with New Age copy) and, insofar as ICE was a story, it always enabled the audience to construct it.

So, swapping the descriptive for references, think Pina Bausch meets 1930s German Expressionist film (like Metropolis and The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari), crossed with George Bernard Shaw’s Back to Methuselah; think Birmingham’s Stan’s Café, think London Contemporary Dance Theatre (some 15 years back). That’s ICE’s style, that’s its quality. One I’d love to return.

For more info on ACE visit www.acedanceandmusic.com