Previewing Obskur Pet Shop Boys — PSB’s imminent Berlin two-nighter, what follows is a five-by eyewitness account detailing what happened back amid the temperate backdrop of April in Camden.
Helpfully, the title of the pre-recorded entry music the Boys entered the Electric Ballroom stage to each night follows the relevant London showdate.
The writers bringing you this six-part feature, which concludes on July 10, Neil Tennant’s 72nd birthday, are as follows: Catherine Walters (CW), Daniel Higgins (DH), our trusty new scribes Alycia Heath (AH) and Jane White (JW), aided and abetted by yours truly (SP).
Tuesday 7 April: Euroboy
DH: You know that Dinah Washington song? What A Diff’rence A Day Makes! Well, Ritchie talked me off the cliff, ordered me to relax, and “Let the music come to you, and enjoy it all with no unrealistic expectations.” We opted to go deeper on the ground, standing in front of the Front of House mixing desk, as its surrounding metal platform not only gave us a two-inch step up off the floor, but the barricade doubled up as our very own back support!
Time. Then the MUSIC! Other worldly. Space. The good kind. Clear sound separation, attention to detail, and we could actually see who’s on stage this time. Well, some of us. With an hour to go, at 6:15 the queue-averse but enigmatically charming Steve Pafford and his witty acumen slotted into our soundboard site with his lovely friend Catherine, who lives in the same county as Ritchie. When that other space between us and stage started to fill I was sad for her being of small stature on a non-sloping floor, but also jealous, as she had four shows on tap that week. Now that’s what I call hardcore.
CW: After a convivial canalside catch-up, Steve and I joined the fast-moving queue and strolled in after the doors had opened and although the sound was better, view? What’s that again? The sorry sightlines lead me to close my eyes and really listen to the music. This resulted in one particular Tuesday tune that was inserted midway into the set (making a welcome return for the rest of the run) hitting me hard emotionally. It was partly the overwhelming joy at hearing such a powerful piece in person in a small venue but also self-pity for being in a room with no view. Consequently, I found myself tearing up throughout, because being dusted off for the first time for a decade was the epic AIDS lament from Actually which would become the title track of the Boys’ madhead movie It Couldn’t Happen Here. What. A. Song.
SP: Was this Obscure as osmosis? I got rather weepy myself during songette No. 5 and hoped no one noticed. Although the subject matter of To Face The Truth isn’t HIV-related, I seem to remember 1990’s contemporaneous deep cut striking a chord quicker than the album’s best-known song, ie Behaviour’s Being Boring. Needless to say, it’s all wrapped up in the sad tale of someone I met that year, who really loved the yearning beauty of this unrequited love story and who isn’t around to tell the tale. I’ll leave it there, except to say he’d come to roost from northern parts of a Scottish town, to paraphrase a stomper from 1993.
CW: Despite Neil saying he’d probably make a load of mistakes on Monday the performance was pretty flawless. Tonight, he got as far as the second verse of the first song before conceding “…forgot the words!” and starting all over again. That really emphasised the laidback nature of these gigs. Sure, there were teething problems but the joy in the room meant they mattered not a jot and only added to the atmosphere.
SP: Tuesday night was my night, quite literally. And it didn’t matter if they got it wrong because I still marvel at how the Greek gods designated show two would be the (only) one I’d witness. So what do they do? Oh, only open the show with easily my favourite Very album track, the darkly dramatic one that namechecks the road I was born on — Covent Garden’s the Strand, the eastern fringe of London’s West End theatre district which boasts the Savoy as its gleaming centrepiece. The choice of such a bitingly high-octane opener instantly transported me back to a 2002 interview I conducted with Tennant & Lowe where Neil suggested the patchy Closer To Heaven might be in line for a sequel of sorts one day.
“When we do another musical, one of my ideas is that it starts with The Theatre and on stage is the theatre you’re sitting in, and you’ve got all the homeless outside singing ‘We’re the bums you step over as you leave the theatre.’ I don’t know what happens next unfortunately…”
DH: Bet She’s Not Your Girlfriend was premiered tonight! That one brilliantly mocked Steve’s dearly departed pal George Michael when he was still in the closet (George, not Steve!), and was an extra on a double A-side with the mocking disco of that U2 cover c/w the pointedly acidic How Can You… Seriously is something of an orphan in the catalogue as in terms of shows and compilations, PSB have all but consigned the HCYETBTS AA to the margins of history. Which is a shame as across the three cuts they must hold some kind of record for how many celebrities you can brutally satirise on one sassy single.
SP: Having taken the Southern train from Streatham via Victoria and up to Camden, I was on a roll when the escapist intrigue of Two Divided By Zero announced itself, having just passed the suburban stations recited over the song’s mid-point tannoy sample: Battersea Park-Clapham Junction-Wandsworth Common-Balham, though in reverse order. With the crowd mantra chanting its Kraftwerkian talking calculator cloak-and-dagger, it reinforced just how much it was and still is one helluva way kick off your debut.
After playing the opening song from their first album the Boys also played the closing song from their most recent album, the 60s-ish Love Is The Law. As I’d specifically avoided spoilers that was another brilliant surprise, especially as its majestically morose subject matter was inspired by Oscar Wilde looking for rough trade on the very road I was living on at the time of its release, the Promenade des Anglais being the Côte d’Azur’s coastal route that takes you from one side of Nice to the other.
Jeez, after this and The Theatre and that one about Yog what on earth next? Because if they’re going to premiere a ditty about Chris Lowe’s Milton Keynes staircase I might actually lose the use of my legs altogether. Not to mention my bladder.
DH: After obligatory showbiz introductions of all on stage, we had “a song from the Xenomania period” — the ABBA meets the Daleks delirium of The Way It Used To Be bringing big gig energy to the small club. At the other end of the spectrum, other oddities seem to be evolving into standards, especially Young Offender (still throbbing in my head as I write this), and the eternal banger Why Don’t We Live Together?, resurrected from the Pandemonium tour. Alas, Chris didn’t do his Dress You Up-style jig as the stage wasn’t big enough for him or any costumed dancers.
What a fun time we had! I’m so happy I saw two shows. I guess every warm dream desire needs to be fought for, and the love of Pet Shop Boys will forever soundtrack my existence. Love and peace, and thank you Steve and all for making the night spectacular.
Come back tomorrow for more, bright and early then.
Written by Daniel Higgins, Catherine Walters and Steve Pafford
Edited by Steve Pafford
