Institute of Contemporary Arts

DAY TWENTY-NINE: Duke Special and David Ford

Date: 29 July 2007

 

Ok well it’s time to confess  something in regard to the Duke Special/David Ford gig – I didn’t stay for the entire thing, I wasn’t going to go at all actually and  I had decided  I was going to have a night off and not write the blog. I know. How unenthusiastic of me, how lazy, how unappreciative; it’s all true.  I confess; I’m tempted by my lazy soul sometimes. However, it is what forced me out of this lethargic spot, at least part way, that’s of more interest.  I saw something on Sunday that took my breath away.  I would be honoured to put finger to keyboard for this, and admitting to my idle side? Well so be it.

 So what was this vision that I marvelled at and will keep in my memory for years to come?

I watched David Ford perform his brilliant, political song State of the Union within the intimate confines of the ICA theatre. Together with an audience of around just 350 I fed off his embittered energy and hung on his every angry, spat out syllable.  David abandoned fellow musicians for this song, and individually built his full revolutionary sound using a recording loop pedal on various instruments including the piano, guitar and maracas. What started as a simple melody started to incorporate chords and beats, growing in volume as the song’s tension grew, gradually overwhelming me with its stark, honest force. I felt the anger and disillusion of this young man, not only in his physical presence that paced around the stage and then over the pit to the audience; not just from the indignant sweat on his brow or the spit produced from his pained annunciation, but through the content of the song itself. It has powerful lyrics that go beyond the regular dish out on love or more recently, colloquial chit chat about scintillating discussions on empty cans of Tenants.* This is a song  that provokes thought and promotes philosophy. The opening lines,

 ‘Sweet Dreams all met with derision

This train it was armed for collision’, lay the lyrical foundations for what continues as a reflection on our modern troubled times; a time where nobody knows who is right, ‘come back Jesus Christ, all is forgiven,’ causing figureheads and their public to act in despicable ways. He repeats the lines, ‘it’s a shame’ and ‘we are lost’ throughout the song, they chime the sad concluding lines to observations that march, tired, steady and foreboding. No-one can doubt we are in troubled times at present; the world is getting smaller and the weapons just get bigger and our environment seems to be teetering on the brink of disaster. So I was relieved and moved (to tears) that out of the entire festival, at least someone was opening our eyes to all of that with music, in the most course yet beautiful way possible.

I didn’t stay till the end, the other songs after that one couldn’t match it for me, so I slowly wove my way out of the transfixed crowds and left. I wanted to keep those 7 minutes or so as distinct in my memory as possible.

Duke Special didn’t make the cut as a result (although I do have some pictures of him in the Green Room signing the ICA book) and I would urge any fans of Peter to send in their comments regarding his performance; I’m sure other fans would appreciate it. And you never know, perhaps you might change the opinion of a newcomer to his music, someone who doesn’t know of his work at present. For if there is one more crucial element to be taken from Sunday’s experience, it is this. The reminder not to judge a book by its cover, or to rely on stereo types and pre-formed ideas. I had thought David was going to be all heavy Irish ballads, a bit too slow for me and even a bit twinkly and twee. I’m not normally one for Irish jig music or folk lore type stuff, and it’s O.K not to like every kind of music. But the point is, David didn’t sing about any of that stuff. He was above and beyond all my expectations, especially during that song, and I would highly recommend going to see him live.

*A friendly nod to our urban poets The Streets

 

Torie Speyer

 

 

 

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