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Another one bites the dust
REVEW: ASTORIA - FINAL NIGHT
Astoria
I BADE a sad farewell to The Astoria last week, having accumulated weeks of my life there.
The line-up wasn’t inspiring, and a last night by default could never meet expectations.
The assembled cast did their best, and played their hearts out, but never did the performances outweigh the heavy-hearted feeling accompanying the end of an era – no more Bowie; no more NME Brat tours; no more Rolling Stones; no more unlisted Ash-as-16-year-olds performances; no more Coldplay and Muse supporting Feeder.
Mystery Jets were surprise guests, but the real surprise was that no one of event-transcending quality turned up; but maybe that’s what the Astoria was really about – the good, the bad and the ugly.
My Vitriol managed to temporarily lift the audience, but the highlight was Frank Turner (Million Dead). He ended his set with an emotional sing-along of Dancing Queen, which should have been the final farewell to a venue that has caused more blood, laughter, sweat, fun and tears than the powers-that-were (thanks, Ken) could ever have understood.
Music isn’t about corporate venues and tours sponsored by mobile phone companies – it’s about emotion, toil, dirt, cheap beer and broken strings.
The more we allow venues to close, and encourage abominations like Pop Idol, the more we undervalue the culture, lifestyle, attitude and ethos of real music.
Let’s embrace the unsigned, and let’s protect our real national treasures – the venues that support the lifeblood of the music we all love.
Dan Aitch |
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