Johnny Foreigner, Rough Trade East, October 26th
Johnny Foreigner played at Rough Trade East on October 26th
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By Matt Hallam. |  |
Wednesday, 28, Oct 2009 02:41
Johnny Foreigner don't look comfortable. Something about Rough Trade East has put the zap on them.
I ask them about the show and they say it feels "mad" to be playing it. They're happier in lower, less prestigious venues. Kelly, bassist, wishes they could do a basement-only tour, "there'd be no pretence, or anything like that, but we'd never be able to afford it".
Taking the stage frontman and guitarist Alexei apologises to the crowd for not bringing any towels. A little laughter, but what we don't realise is that he's not trying to be funny, he's warning us. Later, between songs, he apologises to an audience member: "I hope we haven't got any sweat on you, because that's a really nice coat. My sweat's poison." The crowd is silent. "Well, this is awkward," he says with a rueful smile, before syncing with Junior (drummer and keyboardist) and Kelly and launching into another song.
Johnny Foreigner are loud. Too loud for the mixer, which keeps on flashing red bars as the tech tries to wrestle their sound into a kind of sonic order. It proves difficult as their intensity and fanatical commitment to the soft ROAR soft CLANG-CLANG format means teching for them is a nightmare.
They tell me about their fans and the presents they send to them. How they tell them they "soundtracked their summer". It's easy to mock, but as Alexei says: "If MySpace was around when we were that age then that's the kind of silly obsessive messages I'd write."
"I won't judge you, I won't smile," sings Kelly. The song - Every Cloakroom Ever - is a stand-out track from their just-released album Grace and the Bigger Picture and its dynamics shift between her lax, breathy vocals and the spector-borne clamour the band generate when they really get going. The crowd sway and some nod and after every song Johnny Foreigner thank the crowd for being there, for showing their support.
They all drink straight gin, and their music sounds like it. It's vicious and abrasive, but with the occasional sweetness, whether in the form of Kelly's soulful voice, Junior's brief keyboard hums or Alexei's spoken-word asides, Johnny Foreigner find a way to plane out their sound, adding a bit of tonic to the spirit.
The gig finishes and Alexei finishes off: "We totally should have brought some towels." The crowd are bone-dry, but the band are soaking wet; their hair skullcapped, lank and salty, hiding their eyes. They file offstage, the lights come up and the Rough Trade tills ring as their album gets sold. They won't make money off it - like most modern bands, gigs are their bread and butter, and A+R events like this, or adverts, are where they make their money, but Alexei points out, when asked if they'd let themselves be the soundtrack to a cute, consumer-product: "It's like war veterans selling their medals, isn't it, you've got to do it."
Jack Clark