A Punky Reggae Party

On Monday night I spent the evening in the Millennium Dome and came to the conclusion that it should be levelled. It may no longer be called the Millennium Dome and it may now have an array of soulless bars/restaurants, but the fact remains: it’s a large tent with the character to match.

This was rather unfortunate as the Wailers played here (in the IndigO2) on Monday, and a band with such history really deserved a venue with a bit of soul. Last time I was at the IndigO2 I saw Westwood play about 30 seconds of lots of songs at a student radio awards show. Continuing with the bizarre range of musicians that the venue attracts, both Hanson and Chas & Dave are to grace the stage before Christmas.

The Wailers originated as the band behind Bob Marley but over the decades the band has morphed, with only the bassist, Aston Barrett, remaining from the original line-up. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing; there’s little more awkward than watching a gang of septuagenarians holding themselves up with mic stands while crooning breathlessly.

We arrived in time to catch the last few chords of the support act and take our place at the bar. Unfortunately, our spot prevented any sight of Barrett, or ‘king of the reggae bassline’ as we were frequently reminded by Bob Marley’s 2013 replacement. On the plus side, we had a great view of the audience. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a gig with such a range of ages in the audience; a testament, I suppose, to Marley’s music. Having said this, the median age upstairs where the seats are located was definitely somewhere north of 50.

The show started slowly with renditions of Is This Love and No Woman, No Cry. It wasn’t until the bassline of Could You Be Loved sprung from Barrett’s guitar that the crowd began to rise from their seats. Up stood a girl, dancing away but watching the show through an iPad that was held 5 inches from her face. However, at least when she occasionally put the thing down she knew how to dance.

By half way through the show, most people were on their feet. At least, the people round the edges were. Those that had obviously been online, hammering F5, when tickets went available and had bagged themselves nice, central seats didn’t budge for the entire show. Bizarrely, it seemed that a cross-section of the most rhythmically challenged people in London had decided to turn out. From a lady who looked to be undergoing some kind of vertical electric shock treatment, to a guy who was flailing about like it was 3am in TigerTiger. iPad girl, they were not. But who am I to judge? They were loving it.

Regardless of what you think of reggae music, it’s impossible not to find it infectious. Buffalo Soldier had me bouncing along, but the highlight of the night really was the encore. There was an energy in those last few songs that for some reason didn’t seem to pervade the rest of the performance. Exodus and Punky Reggae Party were particularly good. A mention should also go to Cegee Victory, the female vocalist who added some beautiful harmonies to the songs, but who I thought should have been used more, such were her obvious vocal talents.

I still believe that the IndigO2 isn’t a great venue for the Wailers. The level of corporate bullshit that comes hand-in-hand with the O2 seems to detract somewhat from what Bob Marley and his music stands for. However, at the end of the day, it may be what is needed when a large proportion of their fans now prefer a comfortable seat over a beer and a blunt.