Splitting Off Into Small Groups

I've seen Idlewild twice before, in 2002 and 2005. The latter occasion, they were supporting REM at Old Trafford Cricket Ground, the former was at a fair-sized arena venue with the band at their commercial peak, teenage girls screaming at them.

It was at this time I'd got into them myself. Years earlier, in my first year as a journalism student, one of my friends raved constantly about them. Listening to the first album, it seemed a bit teenage to me, and I was looking to leave that behind along with all my other small town habits.

Yet their second/third albums showed (to me) more focus and the gig in 2002 was enjoyable. It wouldn't have been a surprise if they'd stepped up to Coldplay-levels of popularity, but either by choice or circumstance, it didn't happen. Which is why, in 2010, they're playing to a few hundred people in a cramped club in Manchester.

A friend of mine told me he was going, did I want to tag along? I figured it could be a laugh, so why not? As it turned out, it seemed to would be a nice way to end an enjoyable weekend and an excuse to take a Monday off work.

It turned out to be a nice enough time, though not as exciting as I would have hoped. This wasn't the fault of the band, who played with gutso and energy, but somehow I felt entirely detached from what was going on. A few years ago, I would probably have lept into the fray along with the others, emerging covered in sweat, beer and bruises.

Now, I stood back from it all at the bar, drinking crappy over-priced beer from a plastic cup and wondered if bands do get frustrated when the audience react so much more to 12-year-old songs than those from their current album. Maybe I'm just annoyed they didn't play These Wooden Ideals or Let Me Sleep Next To The Mirror. Of course, it could be just that I'm not a hardcore fan and was in a room full of them. A bit like being a vegetarian at the National Butchers' Convention. Or not.

So, I did the obvious thing: drank too much and woke up feeling like crap, meaning half my day off is lost to feeling sorry for myself and the constant reminder that I can't hack it like I was 21 anymore.

I haven't been to many gigs in the last 12 months: Morrissey in Tallinn (good, but too short), Wild Swans twice in Liverpool (excellent both times) and this. In a week, I'm seeing British Sea Power and I really hope I can summon up a bit of enthusiasm for it.