Music
Peter Murphy Camera Shy at The Opera House
On my way into The Opera House to see Peter Murphy, I was excited to hear and see one of the Godfathers of goth. Nine Inch Nails' Trent Reznor credits Murphy as an early influence.
The tour manager insisted that all cameras be checked at the door. Even for those previously accredited with a photo pass like myself. I'm not sure why, but after the show I have my suspicions. Perhaps Murphy has become so vain that he doesn't want to be portrayed with his balding coif and crow's feet. Or maybe it was because it was his birthday and he didn't feel like cameras reminding him that he's now 52.
So the best shot I could get was a photo of a fan outside the venue after the show (pictured above). It looked like he escaped from Insane Clown Posse.
The concert started off pretty slow, but about the fourth song in, the crowd awoke from their torpor when the band launched into John Lennon's Instant Karma. It was soon followed by Neil Young's Heart Of Gold, for which Murphy needed a cheat sheet of lyrics laid on the stage by one of his stage crew.
I could've listened to Murphy sing cover songs all night, with his booming character voice. Apparently, he's got an album of cover songs due later this year.
The three-piece back-up band pretty much stood there all show, occasionally offering a shoulder for Murphy to lean on in between his pacing in circles in the middle of the stage. I was surprised to hear a canned keyboard offstage to fill in the sound.
Later in the show, the drummer left his kit to play a little Korg while the singer grabbed an acoustic guitar for one of the quieter songs off his popular Deep album, A Strange Kind of Love, which culminated in a refrain from Bauhaus' Bela Lugosi's Dead.
While shouts rang out for Cuts You Up, his biggest hit as a solo artist, it never came. Instead, we got to hear She's In Parties and another couple of covers: Bowie's Space Oddity and Joy Division's Transmission.
If his promoters keep this up, the next time he comes to town will likely bring him to Casino Rama for a last hurrah nostalgia show.
Photo by Roger Cullman.
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And I believe the god of goth is Siouxsie Sioux ;)
This is worth checking out for the different interpretations of Love and Rockets tunes, and the stellar line up of bands...
www.loveandrocketstribute.com
Peter Murphy sure wasn't shy in Ottawa when he played Maverick's Club on July 10, 2009 in Ottawa. Contrary to the mysterious and graceful gentleman we see in his videos, shrouded in lace or silk and practically singing in our ears sweet harmonious poetics, here on stage in O-Town, Murphy was unbottoning his shirt and trying to squeeze his tight tits out of his cowboy shirt saying to us all: "I've got great tits, eh?"
For a second, I thought this was pretty cool that the man I have always wanted to see perform live was there proving himself to be what most rockstars reveal when you meet them in the flesh: They're crude at best. THink Joseph Arthur, or even the poetically convoluted speak of seeming bisexualite Hawksley Workman is replaced with raw and no-bones speak when you meet him as Ryan Hawksley and not the Workman.
I met his comment with a horns up and a shout: "Great fuc*ing tits." I guess he wanted to be the only star of the show and ignored it. Further gaffs came when he starred down into the audience asking someone: "Why are you sitting down? Hunh, why are you sitting?" Assuming it was some fan entranced in awe and controlling her quiverring legs and excitement in a zen-like pose in meditation on the sticky bar floor, we were all embarrassed for Murphy when at the end of the show, the crowd cleared, and realized that the person he also said: "So, how does it feel to see an icon [from down there] was disabled and sat in a wheelchair." Ooops. Murphy's law that something will always go wrong.
LIke their PA system problems. But, I don't think the Government thought of that when they dished out $1.5 million to the City of Ottawa to pay for major acts like Murphy to come and play in bars simply not equipped to handle the sound -- or the egos.
In the end, it was great to see the guy live. What a voice. What music. What a dick. I suppose the greatest thing about the Bauhaus reunion tour I caught at Metropolis in Montreal was not only that I got to be in the city the same night Bionic was playing, but that I could enjoy the music without having to witness Peter Murphy remind me of why getting drunk at rock shows was just so much more gratifying than ever meeting one of these -- ahem: "Icons" -- face-to-face.