The Bouncing Souls - Live At The O2 Academy Islington, London, England, UK, 03/08/2011

I’ve been against the idea of playing a full album from front to back at a live show, from about the time when I heard of the concept. Surely the point of going to a gig is to get something you can’t buy on a studio recording. The energy, the suspense, the sweat, the ringing in your ears, and some classic songs mixed in with new ones to guarantee that you finish the night with a sore throat. Nevertheless, this was The Bouncing Souls, and they were doing a slightly different take on it, so I had to try. They were playing all eight albums over four nights in a few select cities, one of which was London. There are advantages to this. The band gets to stay in a hotel and chill out for a few nights rather than hauling their team around every night, which must seem ever more appealing to bands that have been on the road for more than a couple of decades. Fans can select which pair of albums they want to listen to rather than just have the latest release shoved down their throats. It isn’t that Ghosts On The Boardwalk is a bad record, but I don’t think that playing any entire record front to back is a very effective way of selling that record on a tour supporting that record. In my case, I was quite lucky that my two favourite Bouncing Souls albums were being played on the third night, so I talked two friends, each of whom I’d seen the band with once before at different venues in Birmingham, into seeing them perform How I Spent My Summer Vacation and Anchors Aweigh.

Because it was London and there was congestion and petrol to weigh up, we decided to train it down, and cram into a family room in a cheap nearby hotel so that we could stay the night. Having met up at the train station on a hot and humid Wednesday, we walked to the hotel and booked in at around half five, got changed and headed more or less straight to the venue. Surprisingly few people had turned up in time for doors, and we found out why. After chatting with the one couple that had arrived before us, they explained that quite a lot of people had bought the VIP option of going to all four nights. After waiting for an hour and a half inside the venue before anything happened, we found out that there was only one support act and that people who’d been there before knew better and didn’t waste their time. Eventually, local four-piece Pacer got on stage and motored through a series of pop punk. Think guitars reminiscent of the main act, but with less intrusive drumming and half-shouted half-screamed vocals, with a lot of complaining about the media in the lyrics. It was played pretty loud, and I’m beginning to wonder if support acts should be turned down a little so that those nearer the speakers can still hear the main act with good clarity. Their set can’t have been much more than half an hour, and they were soon taking their instruments off the stage.

A cheesy, amusing introduction imitating a boxing match between the two albums brought an introduction to How I Spent My Summer Vacation, replete with the music from Rocky, and a scantily-clad female walking around holding up a vinyl copy of the album as if it had Round 1 printed on it. Perhaps due to the late start, the band walked on, picked up their instruments and immediately rocketed through their first set, only stopping to breathe twice, one of which was to fix a couple of bolts on Bryan Kienlen’s ailing bass guitar. As well as hearing the songs we would have heard anyway (“That Song”, “True Believers”, “Gone”), it was great to be able to hear some songs in a live setting which would otherwise rarely if ever have been played, including the brisk “Better Life”, and my personal favourite, the high energy “No Comply”. On the other hand, the interaction the band afforded the crowd was much lower than usual. Greg Attonito ventured towards the crowd once, thought better of it, and stayed back. He’s always been relatively calm as lead singers go, but his cheerful nature seemed to be absent, and he spent most of his time off the microphone tapping his feet and looking at the floor. I can’t be sure whether he was as tired as he looked, or whether he was still struggling to remember some of the songs, although I suspect the former. Either way, this wasn’t the buoyant individual who would hop around, stick the microphone into the crowd, and even help crowd members with cameras out by taking photos of them, something I’d seen on both previous occasions.

The crowd was in a surprisingly physical mood compared to the last two times I’d seen the band, and both of my companions dropped out before “Private Radio” had even finished, and watched the rest of the show from the bar. To make matters worse, towards the end of this first set, a crowdsurfer went directly over me in an unpleasant manner. I didn’t think it’d be too much of an issue as the staff had spotted him early and as many as five of them formed a neat formation in front of me, and looked ready. However, instead of lifting the crowdsurfer over the top like they were usually able to do single-handedly, they pulled him down onto the back of my head and neck. I sustained a neck injury from having his weight rolling my head forward and then pinning it down and compressing it. Sometimes I wonder if crowdsurfers are the only ones whose health matters. I was hoping to not be compelled to discuss the issue at all, having documented some views on crowdsurfing after the incident-free Buffalo Tom show earlier in the year, but alas, I’m angry.

Most of the band disappeared through the back curtain for a five minute breather, soon followed by guitarist Pete Steinkopf who finished “Gone” alone. A very similar introduction was given for Anchors Aweigh, after which the band came back and continued at their uncharacteristically fast pace. Again, the crowd experienced regulars such as “Kids And Heroes” and “Sing Along Forever” as well as less frequently played gems like “Inside Out” and “Highway Kings”, another personal favourite. The crowd had mostly calmed down after the initial crush of the first three songs, although my knees were getting more and more painful after being flattened against the barrier for long enough, and I had a particularly sore rib, thanks to some troglodyte in the next row back who clung onto the top of the barrier like a Scotsman on a five pound note with his knuckles digging into me. What struck me as odd about this set was that “The Day I Turned My Back On You” was actually skipped. Otherwise, the album was there in completion including the bonus track (not with the two minutes silence). I usually like to have a gig end on a powerful note, but the semi-acoustic “The Fall Song” was a nice way to end the gig on a relaxed note. Maybe it was because I was tiring of dodging people doing music video stunts over me, or maybe it was because the band seemed more comfortable at the slower pace.

There is no substitute for the excitement of wondering what the next song is, and feeling the excitement of a personal favourite, the will to sing or dance to a staple, or the appreciation of hearing something rarely aired being plucked out of the past. There was no encore, so there were no surprises other than the missed song. I suppose you can’t blame the band, given that they had been playing a lot of songs this way for some time by this point, and looked exhausted and a bit fed up, although it would have been nice to have them play a couple of extra tunes, perhaps from the split album they did with Anti-Flag in between the two featured records. A bad night’s sleep thanks to the heat, and a walk back to the station the next morning in pouring rain in which it was still too hot to wear more than a t-shirt, gave me plenty of time to weigh up the pros and cons of this concert. After mulling it over for several days, I’m still not sure whether it was worthwhile. What I have learned is what I suspected all along, that full-album shows are not as good as regular shows. The Bouncing Souls looked completely drained, and even the ever-powerful Michael McDermott seemed to be feeling the effects of a tour that they may well look back grimly on. Judging by the introductions, they hadn’t lost their sense of humour with age, so I can’t see what else could be at fault. What I perhaps haven’t learned is that I just might be getting too old to keep doing this, especially if I can get injured without going near the circle pit and not resist complaining about it.

(Given the nature of the show, there is no need to provide a setlist.)