Things involving me gawping at Peter Murphy

So... let's get the proper blog posts back underway, shall we?

Way back in the Dark Ages that was the 12th of October (seriously, I planned to write this up the next day, that didn't happen) I sneaked into London on a last-minute whim to catch my all-time favourite singer (and long-suffering object of my attraction) Peter Murphy at the Garage in Islington. The Garage is a nice venue, incidentally; small enough to be intimate but large enough to feel important. The Murph himself has been touring his new album Ninth (read my review here if you're so inclined) and the "Secret Bees" EP that goes with it (Peter now has a habit of releasing B-sides on separate EPs since no-one seems to buy singles anymore). I hadn't seen him live for three years (missed the last tour because... actually I don't know why, I suppose I was just being a hermit again) so it was nice to see some of my old friends from the days of "let's stalk Bauhaus across the country because we can".

 Zack and Dashangel, two very good friends of mine who run the Bauhaus Archive on facebook.

With no support, it was a surprisingly long set, close to two hours. The set-list was completely bonkers: he opened with the first three tracks of Ninth before going onto a set that was two-parts old stuff to one part Bauhaus.

I don't have many pictures of Peter, unfortunately. Well, I do, but they're terrible

 

I mean, look at this. How can my photography be so bad it makes Peter Murphy look like that? Deary me...

Anyway, as always, Peter's voice was lovely. His band weren't as tight as they could be and there were a lot of fuck ups, to the point that Peter actually got pretty pissed off by the half-way point. He kept having them stop and restart songs and rather scowlingly changed "Cuts You Up" to "Fucks You Up". I've honestly never seen him in such an odd mood. He didn't even bother singing the last line of Ziggy Stardust. Oh and he did his brilliant "Goth stand-up" banter again. Some of the same jokes as last time, but I did quite like his American-accented take on advertising for Bauhaus: "Four men, eight feet, one band".

 Typical. This was the clearest photo I took, and he's looking at the sodding guitar. *sighs*

Apparently the rest of the tour was less...fragmented. But, yes, I did spend the whole night gawping at Pete again. He really is very pretty.

I can't really say a lot more, because I've largely forgotten it (sorry), so here's a video some website did of me awkwardly talking about the gig directly after it.





I had no idea what to say.