Living Colour – The Garage, London 06/12/09

11 December 2009, 08:28 | Written by Ash Akhtar

(Live)

Living Colour have, ironically, achieved a semblance of cult status in the UK. MTV hit ‘Cult Of Personality’ (from 1988 album, Vivid) is part of the Guitar Hero franchise; their single ‘Love Rears its Ugly Head’ broke into the UK charts and the album of the same name went on to win a ‘coveted’ Grammy award. It was ‘Love rears’ that suckered the 15 year old me into buying a Living Colour album and I can still recall wandering into Woolworth’s to pick up the tape for £5.99. Time’s Up was the second album to change my life (the first was Public Enemy’s It Takes A Nation Of Millions). But ‘Love Rears’ is not representative of Time’s Up. The album is a sprawling fusion of shred metal, funk and hip-hop, positively laced with pro-black messages. Shocked by the metallic screams of Vernon Reid’s guitar, I unspooled the tape, crumpled it with my fist and went back to the store hoping for an exchange. But the store assistant just reached back into a grey drawer labelled ‘A-L’ and pulled out another copy of the album. I was destined to own Time’s Up, and it is the album that convinced me to pick up the guitar and want to be a professional musician.

Living Colour’s latest album, The Chair In The Doorway, is their least accomplished, so fans of the band’s twenty year career were probably hoping for a set of classics with a few new songs thrown in to provide sufficient time for bathroom and bar breaks. Judging from the audience demographic, this assumption played about right. Living Colour are no longer attracting a new, young audience – their new album is not winning new fans, so the band find themselves playing to long time fans with unwilling, yet gracious partners.

Warped instrumental, WTFF, sounds from of the PA and singer Corey Glover bounces out from the wings. Warming our hands to his presence, the remainder of the band follow. Glover sports a curious outfit: the combination of heavy yellow apron and goggles lends him the appearance of an aquatic car mechanic. The first two tracks (‘Ignorance Is Bliss’ and ‘Which Way To America’) zip by, and the sound – the sound – is simultaneously crisp, full and crunchy. The muddied production of the last two Living Colour albums is replaced by the relatively melodic overtones of Stain. From that album, a fantastic rendition of ‘Auslander’ follows, and then a handful of tracks from the new album of which, in fairness, ‘Decadance’ fairs well. The noticeable drop in enthusiasm pushes the band to play ‘Go Away’ and ‘Funny Vibe’ with great aplomb but, suddenly, the quality tails off.

Aside from asking fans to vote Labour at the next election, one of the quickest ways to dampen an audience’s spirit is to dedicate a song to victims of terrorism. If that’s not enough to flatten the mood, give the drummer some and let him solo for 10 minutes while the rest of the band take a break. It’s 2009 – not 1989. No one with ears cares one jot for a drum solo mid-set (rock drummers don’t have ears – that’s fact); no one particularly wants to be reminded about tragic events when paying to have a good time. No one wants to vote Labour…

Thankfully, Living Colour aren’t overtly pro-Gordo, but their anti-terrorist spiel implies some tacit affection. With no fans in the room, winning the audience back would be a Herculean task. As if sensing this, the band play ‘Cult Of Personality’ and even the walls seem to sing along. It’s ridiculous how quickly we, the audience, forgive artists – because it’s this impetuous forgiveness that inhibits artist development. The longer fans continue to forgive and fawn over favoured artists, irrespective of clanging, heinous, cringing callousness; we can expect to see less of the genuine artist we fell in love with as they slip away, drowned in a sea of forced solipsism.

The rising cult of Living Colour should not usurp their natural growth or stop them taking their place in the pantheon of Black Rock. A mostly enjoyable night for the fan, Living Colour can – and should – be far more popular than they are. It is on occasions such as this, when it becomes apparent why they are not.

Personal reflection is probably frowned upon in what should really be objective journalism, but so entwined is my musical development with Living Colour’s career that I couldn’t help but speak to Reid at the end of the show. Shaking hands, he embraced me after I told him my story. Emotional, there was no way I could explain to him what I have written here, and before I could even think to, the friends vying for his attention won before I could gather my nerve. Nonetheless, I will forever have the solace of that moment.