Review of Primal Scream at The O2, Dublin on December 29th 2011
Review: Nicola Byrne
Photos: Alan Moore
I’m not sure which was worse. The fact that I was probably the youngest person present in the o2, or that I was practically the only person present in the O2.
Screaming psychedelic scenes are on the menu tonight, with Primal Scream breaking out another adjusted rendition of their Mercury Prize-winning album, Screamadelica. It seems that a lot of their fans have simply decided that playing the record will suffice this time around, having given up the acid trips for trips to the in-laws. However, the crowd continued to build until the level of enthusiasm was adequate enough for the rockers to work with. By the time they hit the stage it’s an almost full O2.
Primal Scream have been on the festival circuit for the past year, thrilling spacious audiences in an open-air setting that seems to work best for them. It gives their extended instrumentals and cyclic riffs a place to go where they haven’t already been heard before. If there’s a beat to be found, Primal Scream will pull at it like a Stretch Armstrong.
The o2 seems too claustrophobic for their show, a memory lane for most of the crowd, a lane lanced with dizzying motion and disorienting lights. Dressed in a suit and popping red shirt, Gillespie seemed a bit disheveled under his iconic floppy fringe. But his inelegance didn’t just come from his less-than conventional vocals or his swaggering slouch—a fluid movement resembling how I’d imagine my Dad would dance under the influence of some strong “stimulant”. Loaded makes for a powerful opener and soon after Movin on Up getting The O2 dance floor moving. The vocals of who I believe is Denise Johnson (though I had been told she had been replaced on this tour) are flawless and keep the show ticking along with a powerful vocal wall of sound.
Bobby Gillespie knows how to work a crowd, but he does so in a way that leaves them questioning what exactly he does otherwise. His act thrives on the fast, recognisable songs, but struggles to make the slow—such as ‘Damages’—anything less than boring. There are of course natural highs of the likes of Come Together but the middle of the gig just lulls a bit and a quick look around shows that some fans are enjoying an externally enhanced show.
The show and spectacle are what commands attention, rather than the drawn-out tunes and the excitable staggering of Gillespie. The crowd didn’t seem to mind. A trip down memory lane coming as close to a trip as you can naturally get. Impressive visuals aside and the closing with Rocks, which has become a required staple of a Primal Scream gig, I wasn’t overly impressed. The hits went down well, which I expected, but the psychedelic aspects just didn’t land which left me wondering would I have been writing a different review had I been under external influence.
