Up On The Downs, Part Two

So, it's 4.00pm on a windy Bank Holiday Sunday afternoon at the ACT 1.5 climate action accelerator event in Bristol, and Lankum are next up at 4.40pm.

 

The place is starting to fill up though it's still nowhere near capacity. I know Massive Attack are the big draw here, but none of the support acts are small fry and I don't understand why some people splash out on a ticket and then intentionally don't turn up to get the full experience.

 

The original plan when I bought tickets months ago - I was fortunate enough to live within the qualifying postcode zone for pre-sale access - was that this would be a Clan K excursion. A series of unforseen events, not least Lady K going to a friend's party the day before, meant that unfortunately it became a solo venture. Fortunately, I was able to sell my unwanted pair of tickets via the suggested Tixel site, which was a pleasant surprise given the short notice and hundreds of tickets up for grabs at the same time. 

 

My plan B was to hook up with an old friend's brother, who I knew was also going to be there. Apart from a chance encounter at an O.M.D. gig earlier this year, I hadn't seen him for a while so I was looking forward to catching up. However, I was forewarned: he and his friend were planning to meet in the city centre at 3.00pm and "go to a few pubs" en route to the Downs, not planning to be on site "til early evening". It's probably worth mentioning that he was well oiled at the aforementioned O.M.D. concert.

Therefore, I wasn't expecting a rendezvous for the Lankum set but given that the last entry cut off for the event was 6.00pm, I anticipated meeting them in time for the final support show. So, I made a beeline for the front of the crowd and took position for Lankum.

 

I don't own any of Lankum's albums and my knowledge of their music is limited to a handful of songs that have appeared on music magazine freebie CDs, a couple of live tracks and a very good Tiny Desk concert from 2020. I vaguely knew what to expect, but I didn't expect to be familiar with most of the songs played. 

 

The band took to the stage and formed a line, brothers Ian Lynch and Daragh Lynch at each end, Radie Peat and Cormac Mac Diarmada in the middle. Fleshing out the live band at the back were producer John 'Spud' Murphy on electronics (or subsonics, as credited on their last album) and John Dermody on percussion.

Lankum start off with the mesmerising drone of their version of The Wild Rover, the song that I am most familiar with. It's one thing to hear it through headphones or speakers, quite another to experience it in person, the bass vibrations coursing through your body, the band adding layers of sound as Radie intones over the top. The song simultaneously goes on forever and yet ends too soon after ten minutes or so, setting the tone (drone) for the rest of the show, six songs over the course of an hour.

The remaining songs are drawn from their two three (thanks, Ernie) studio albums, plus a cover of The Rocky Road To Dublin, which to date has only been performed live on stage. Ian and Daragh do most of the talking, passing back and forth and finishing each other's sentences with such ease that it was easy to lose track of which brother was talking. The Pride Of Petravore, we are told (by Ian or Daragh, I'm not sure) included a snippet of a Sting song (We Work The Black Seam, according to my post-gig "research") but you wouldn't have known otherwise. 

The deftness and dexterity of the band generally is matched by the dizzying number of instrument changes that Ian effects during the set. I couldn't begin to name most of them, but suffice to say each one added something special to the performance. Not to be outdone, Radie's swaps between harmonium, concertina and accordion were equally impressive.

Penultimate song Bear Creek was the only other song that I was familiar with, before Lankum drew things to a close with a spine chilling rendition of Go Dig My Grave, the opening song from second album False Lankum. It was all over too soon, Lankum gave thanks and waves and exited the stage.

The crowd had been up for it from the start and went properly wild by this point. If I had seen Sam Morton and Lankum as a standalone gig, I would have felt that I'd had a great time. But there was more to come. Well, kind of.

There was a 45-minute wait until the next show, not that the gaps were silent. I'll mention the numerous guest speakers when I review the headline gig, but DJ Milo was also on hand to provide satisfying sounds to ease the transition between each part of the event.

 

As I made my way from the stage, a text from my friend's brother popped up. "We're in...where r u?" Glancing around, I suggested meeting them at the back of the accessible viewing platform and opposite the presciently-named food stall Oh Crepe! It was 5.45pm, dusk was already looming, the site was considerably busier and the queues for all of the food stalls were already looking ridiculously long. 

I waited. And waited. And waited. It was around 6.10pm and still no sign. "Are you close?" I texted. "We're by the Hippy Chippy!" came the reply. Now, the Hippy Chippy was about three stalls down from Oh Crepe! so the two will have walked past the accessible stage, Oh Crepe! - and me - to get there. Given the flowing thoroughfare of people though, not a great surprise that we may have missed each other.

Also no surprise when we met up a few minutes later and I realised just how well oiled they both were! They revealed that their intention had been to carry on drinking and rock up about 8.00pm to catch Massive Attack alone, until another friend had been in touch to point out the 6.00pm last entry cut off, forcing a frantic dash uphill from Clifton to The Downs.

The lads were quite up front that they had little interest in the support slot by Killer Mike (which was just starting) and their main focus was food, fags and beer. Only the latter was satisfied during our time together. Neither them smoked nor knew anyone that did nor had any plans to go rooting around, trying to buy, beg or 'borrow' from someone in the crowd. The bar was more easily accessible and the queues were moving more swiftly, and they grabbed a couple of cans of lager each.

 

As we were talking, it also became apparent that (a) the 'crowd' in front of us was actually the queue for the Hippy Chippy and (b) the end of the queue wasn't in sight and the people in our direct line of site moved about two metres for the entirety of Killer Mike's hour-long set. The same appeared to be true of every food stall in our line of vision. No problem for me, I had no plans to eat but I did feel for my acquaintances, who literally had gallons (and counting) of booze to soak up.

I'm realise that I'm painting an unflattering picture here, but it was a great fun to catch up with my friend's brother and his best mate, who I'd also met a few times on various nights out over the years. There were great anecdotes and some impassioned reminisces, which sometimes only copious amounts of alcohol can unlock. 

Unfortunately, it came at the cost of getting the full experience of Killer Mike's set. With my extended proximity from the stage and my occasional moments of breaking from the conversation and listening to the music, I was clearly missing the best part of a great set. But hell, sometimes you make a choice and for me, time with some lovely if incredibly pissed people won out.

I'm only really familiar with Killer Mike's recent album Michael and a few smatterings of  his songs - solo and as one half of Run The Jewels - and guest appearances here and there over the past two decades. Despite releasing a new album recently, the songs that I did catch seemed mostly to be from Michael. The performances, enhanced by backing trio The Mighty Midnight Revival, sounded incredible and I was also clearly missing on some quality between song banter, judging by the approving roars from the crowd.

 

So, a slight pang that I didn't abandon the reunion and plunge straight back into the melee at the front for the penultimate support slot, especially as the likelihood of another opportunity to see Killer Mike at all, let alone in a similar setting, is slim. However, my loosely-planned reunion was nourishing for the soul in other ways and hey, what's the point in regret? Life's too short!

 

Besides, there was still Massive Attack to come. And what could possibly go wrong?

 

I'll tell you all about that on Monday. In the meantime, here's a 12-song selection of Sam Morton, Lankum and Killer Mike to tide you over. Whilst there was some online grumbling about the choice of seemingly unconnected support acts, I thought it was inspired and I was really excited to see them all. In compiling this set, the links between all three, narratively and sonically speaking, seem more apparent. 

If you like what you hear, go check them all out via Bandcamp or your friendly neighbourhood record shop.

 

1) Hunting The Wren (Album Version): Lankum (2019) 

2) Loved By God: Sam Morton ft. Alabaster DePlume (2024)

3) Slummer (Album Version): Killer Mike ft. Jagged Edge (2023) 

4) Netta Perseus (Album Version): Lankum (2023)

5) The Little White Cloud That Cried (Cover of Johnny Ray & The Four Lads): Sam Morton (2024)

6) Run (Damian 'Jr. Gong' Marley Version): Killer Mike (2023) 

7) Bear Creek (Tiny Desk Concert Version): Lankum (2020) 

8) Double Dip Neon: Sam Morton (2024)

9) Something For Junkies (Album Version): Killer Mike ft. Fabo (2023)

10) Broxtowe Girl: Sam Morton ft. Ali Campbell & Alabaster DePlume (2023)

11) Two Days (Album Version): Killer Mike ft. Ty Dolla $ign (2023) 

12) The Wild Rover (Live @ Relix, New York): Lankum (2019) 

 

Up On The Downs (57:54) (KF) (Mega)