The Music, Fat Sam’s, Dundee
In true 'man of the masses' fashion Harvey clears his throat (on to the stage), and bursts into the raucous cries of 'Freedom Fighter'.
The stage is a chapel tonight. So many different generations, from your fully zipped skinheads, strutters and aged ex-mods, to the jean splitting indie popsters, all joining to reinstate - music is a religion, and mass is on Saturday nights.
One must admit if Robert Harvey was not on stage, this could be anyone - there is little recollection of the other members. This is no smite to their musical ability, but more of an ode to the demanding presence of The Music's 'everyman' leader. The Leeds lads rattle through a generous dose of fast paced Brit-rock, always followed by a refreshingly grateful "cheers, thanks for that" by Harvey. Their standard drums/guitar set up seems generic compared to the synth-ridden, stylophone bashing of newer bands, but it translates effortlessly into the live gigs.
In true 'man of the masses' fashion Harvey clears his throat (on to the stage), and bursts into the raucous cries of 'Freedom Fighter', spurred on by the synchronised bouncing of the dance floor. God knows where the bar is tonight, but there is beer dripping off heads and ceilings throughout. The Music plan no respite.
An ephedrine-fuelled revamp of 'The Spike' leaves the crowd in fits, and uninvolved spectators nod in approval. In the most respected and traditional method, The Music continue to let their on-stage performance do all the talking that is necessary.
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