The Fall Islington Academy

The Fall Islington Academy

21 July, 2008
by: Marcus

A band named after a Camus novel, led by a cantankerous figure half-singing, half-talking songs about football violence and social realism, with a band he might sack before the encore…would you make it up?

Of course not, and this is the true beauty of The Fall. Ubiquitous to any music fan worth their salt over the last three decades, they divide opinion to the point of being the favourite band or a certain John Peel (and apparently he knew a thing about music) to being sneered at by the sort of ‘rock’ critics that no doubt see the View and the Kooks as groundbreaking genre-benders.

Sure, watching a man ravaged by three decades of ambling around a stage otherwise populated by fairly consummate musicians plying their trade might not be everyone’s idea of a pleasant Tuesday, but it’s a hell of a sight to behold, and the esteem they are held in by so many can only be fully understood seeing them in action. Ignore the various labels bestowed upon them over the years; this is punk, in spirit if not always in tone. After all, The Fall can never be considered mainstream.

For one thing, Mark E Smith now has more in common with a bastard child of Johnny Cash, Alex Higgins and Shane MacGowan than the spikey, spitting yobs from 1977 that geriatrically tread the boards these days to fund their grandchildren’s private education. Plus, and you wonder if this is affected but suspect it isn’t, the man just doesn’t give a toss. See him turn down amps and steal bandmate’s mics, marvel at the way he disappears for entire songs and gasp at his disregard for showmanship. When they belt out a classic like ‘White Lightning’ or ‘Theme From Sparta FC’ it all makes perfect sense.

Don’t believe the soundbites; punk is dead. The heart was cut off with the overdose of Sid Vicious and the brain went with Joe Strummer. The preening, posing bands of today loosely trading under the genre are nothing more than pretenders. There is only one other name from that era or any other that deserves regard, and that is the growling, yelping ME Smith, that belligerent curmudgeon and, whisper it, national treasure.

Click here to view all London Rock
Click here to view all London Live Music
Click here for Things to do in Islington 

Marcus