Stereophonics (Birmingham NIA, 20th November 2001)

STEREOPHONICS

BIRMINGHAM NIA 20/11/01

I've never been to the NIA before, and it's huge. Not "Ooh, that's pretty big" huge, but monolithically huge. If you're sitting in one of the seats at the back, the stage is probably a tiny speck. Luckily (or not, depending on your perspective), I'm right in the heart of the moshpit. It doesn't matter though, 'cos Stereophonics have gone all wimpy on us now. Haven't they?

Well, we'll get to that. First of all we stand through the treat that is Feeder.I used to like Feeder (note the past tense there) and about three years ago, starting with a track like 'Insomnia' would have had me behaving like the proverbial Mexican bean. Not now, however. The sound seems so puny it feels like they're miming to a backing tape, and as they run through all their most popular tracks ('Buck Rogers', 'Seven Days In The Sun', 'Paperfaces'), only bassist Taka Hirose seems to be enjoying himself.

The problem for Feeder wasn't that they turned in a bad performance or that the audience didn't want them there (there were unconfirmed reports of moshing somewhere down the front), it was simply that a venue like this was too big for them. They're a good band and you can see why people like them, but it'll take another few years before Feeder should play here again. As the lights went up for the roadies benefit, I glanced around the arena. Most of the seating was empty, and there was loads of standing space left. Never mind, Kelly.

About nine o'clock, the lights went out again, as the muted strains of Kelly Jones' voice swept over the PA, singing no discernible song to no discernible tune. Then background curtains opened, and the backdrop exploded in light as the band took up positions. The scream when Kelly appeared reminded me of the chill of terror I felt when I went to see Take That (I was only about eleven, folks.)

I was expecting them to open with a hard rocker, but they began sedately, with the bitter 'Mr. Writer.' The band say this is about "lazy, lonely, music hacks.' Well, let's see. I'm a student, I'm currently single, and the last one is stating the bloody obvious. Which is why it was difficult for me to sing it with any conviction, but it didn't stop anybody else.

The band then stepped up a gear, with 'Vegas Two Times' and 'Bartender' acting like an adrenaline shot on a dying OD' patient, but then things began to take a more leisurely direction, taking in old and new with a coolness just like Kelly's sunglasses. Before 'Have A Nice Day', Kelly became storyteller, banging on about the American taxi driver that inspired the song. Apparently, he said "Bostin'" (A Brummie expression) when they got out of the cab.

The rest of the band looked like they were having a good time too. Richard Jones looks continually more assured on bass, while drummer Stuart Cable continues his interpretation of his weird John Bonham/Ringo Starr hybrid. The other guys drafted in were Tony Kirkham (piano) and Scott James (guitar). During the set, the big screen flashed up a word on Tony's piano, that simply said "Stereophonic." Very apt. Don't kid yourself they're still a three piece, because they wouldn't have been able to pull this off without the two new guys.

Just before the acoustic set, the band rewarmed an old classic from their first album, 'Same Size Feet'. Kelly references local Brummie music mecca The Jug Of Ale, and the crowd goes bananas. It's like feeding a horse a sugarlump, but at least it looks like he cares. Then came the acoustic set. I was not at all impressed, because they played two songs I really dislike, in 'Step On My Old Size Nines' and new single 'Handbags And Gladrags.' They weren't bad renditions, but I just think they're pointless songs. But I was in the minority, so don't listen to my misanthropic opinion.

All too soon we came to set-closer, 'Local Boy.' I was really looking forward to hearing it live, but they've slowed it down! How can I mosh and injure fourteen year olds when I'm listening and swaying instead? Still, it was very pleasant, especially as I'm getting past moshing age anyway.

The lights stayed down, and the 'Phonics came back with a four song encore, namely 'Traffic', 'I Wouldn't Believe Your Radio' 'Everyday I Think Of Money' and band favourite 'Rooftop.' All were brilliantly accomplished, and to give them credit, they know how a tightly packed set should go. There was enough strumming and headbanging to satisfy all. The lights finally went up, and it was eleven o'clock, and the venue was absolutely packed. We all saw pictures of Nuremburg rallies in fourth year history, and it doesn't even come close to this. I'd bet that all of these people have had a "bostin'" time, because I have. I came here expecting to say goodbye to a band that didn't do anything for me anymore, and instead I'm rabbiting on to my sisters about how I'll give their new LP another listen. That in itself is a miracle. One that I paid twenty-five quid for, but a miracle all the same.

Chris Stanley