At four o’clock I got the email about taking the clients out for a drink. I wasn’t into it but when I found out the pub was on the way home I was more inclined. Instead of getting the awkward taxi I decided to walk the 30 minutes and call my parents, who I was seeing on the weekend and had been on holiday. After quickly running over the holiday and my dad talking about why his friend wasn’t going to meet up for their weekly shandy, it was on to the main course, their supermarket’s fish section and that they were looking forward to their weekend in Brighton.
This conversation carried me to the pub where my colleagues were. I’d been here before, but I only remembered leaving, never arriving or ordering drinks. This was a blessing as it was long arriving for the first time. The beer garden was sunny, but they tried to recreate the old pier’s dilapidated state with a distressed metal arbour. It didn’t really make sense as the pub had just had a refurb, but each to their own. After a few hours of pandering to the boss conversational needs, and talking up Sussex’s high points, they went for dinner and I headed to The Haunt.
Seadog were in full swing when I arrived. Their brand of sea-shanty indie could easily have appeared on Chemikal Underground anytime in the last 20 years. While standing at the bar contemplating a drink I really got into their set. While it wasn’t groundbreaking, the mixture of accordion, keyboard and acoustic guitar really struck a chord and the longer it went on the more enjoyable and memorable it was.
After a 30 minute break, most of which was spent outside as The Haunt was a sweatbox, Arab Strap took to the stage. Opening with ‘Stink’ they laid down a statement of intent. This was going to be a set full of emotional outpouring and stark, post-rock musicality. This was followed up by ‘Fucking Little Bastards’. At its logical conclusion the crowd erupted into applause. Malcolm Middleton and Aidan Moffat looked sheepish, but in a “Praise me, I’m ace” kind of way. They then launched into ‘Girls of Summer’. I’d never really given this song much time before, but hearing it live I realised the errors of my ways. This story of debauchery was a highlight of their set.
Moffat addressed the crowd saying “We’re Arab Strap. The happiest band in the world”. The next few songs took us through the back allies of rejection, drug-fuelled pub sessions and generally being in love with someone who isn’t reciprocating. Luckily the music backing these songs of woe was filled with exquisite peaks of post-rock grandeur and tender moments that pulled at your heart strings.
As Middleton and Moffat’s set drew to a close we started to get itchy for the bangers to be played. ‘Speed Date’ subdued us for a moment but we wanted something more. This came in ‘The First Big Weekend’. Over the years I’ve felt that any good weekend could be supplanted over this track, but after hearing Moffat’s tone and conviction I’ve had to rethink this. Listening to what he packed into a weekend, make most other weekends pale in comparison. The highlight was hearing Middleton sing the chorus. All night he’d stalked about his side of the stage, looking like he wanted to sing. And when he did it was worth the wait.
At the end of ‘First Big Weekend’ there was the usual cat and mouse game played between band and crowd. We all knew they were coming back for an encore, and they knew this by hiding out of eye’s view. This is usually an infuriating thing, but the second they started up their encore we all knew that game was worth the wait; ‘Packs of Three’, ‘Cherubs’, ‘The Shy Retirer’ and ‘Soaps’ finished off a set full of back catalogue gems.
As the house lights went up and everyone finally got a good look of the person standing next to them, it was mutually agreed that this had been a great night of music and comradery. We’d all walked into The Haunt expecting to see our jilted selves seething on stage, but what we got was an older and more mature version of those songs projected back at us. It showed us that while that part of us is still alive, luckily most of us don’t have to live with it every day. We’ve found peace with those demons, and so have the band.
They never played ‘I Work in a Saloon’ but I can forgive them that, as everything else was nigh on flawless. But as long as they play it next time all’s forgiven.
Nick Roseblade
Website: http://arabstrap.scot
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