Take me anywhere but here

Franz Ferdinand at the Ally Pally, 2nd December 2005

I suppose it’s inevitable that all aspiring indie rock stars end up playing at the Alexandra Palace sooner or later; I guess it’s a measure of how much popularity they’ve achieved, but judging by my experience on Saturday, it’s a move that favours the band’s reputation whilst damaging the ordinary fan’s experience of the music and of attending gigs in general. If that had been my first gig, frankly, I would never have gone to another one. It’s not really the band’s fault I guess; the music itself was faultless and they played for well over an hour by my calculation, it’s just that the venue itself is so souless and clinical. The outside of the building is impressive enough; with its elegant Victorian architecture, and it’s panoramic views over North London, but the journey to the venue is depressing (inadequate buses, disorderly scrambles), and the hanger-like interior is totally lacking in atmosphere. The floor of the great hall is completely flat, and consequently, if you’re less than 6ft tall, you’re completely buggered as far as actually seeing the band you’ve paid nearly £30 to see is concerned. On Saturday even the presence of one of my fave bands The Cribs (as the main support) couldn’t save the day. They seemed to be suffering from the same air of detachment as the crowd and battled vainly to make contact in the echoing dome. At the end of the gig, Ryan Jarman made a final ditch attempt to reach the crowd, but was pulled back unceremoniously by the over anxious guards (we can’t have any of that touchy-feely stuff here, oh no).

Finally, on the crowded bus home, violent contra-temps took place between a young girl and an older man whose daughter had apparently been insulted by said girl (a friend of mine, real ale boy, observed later that he seemed to be dressed as Victor Meldrew, but to my mind he seemed to have more of a Phil Mitchell vibe to him). Harsh words were exchanged and threats in the manner of ‘I’ll get you later’ and ‘bothered’ were forcefully exchanged. I was slammed against the bus door several times and the driver seemed to be totally ignoring the incident.

I guess everyone should go to the Ally Pally once in a lifetime, but if would be nice if FF could please play the Brixton Academy (whose sloping arena is more sympathetic to the vertically challenged) next time? Cheers.

NB. I know the band were apparently named after a racehorse and not the archduke ferdinand, but I just like this photo so much I had to use it.