Credit: Jane Gazzo

Thursday 26th October 2006.

It begins with Damon Albarn wishing us all a “good evening.”   He gestures with a wave and smiles as he surveys the newly refurbished Roundhouse. He is tonight’s ringmaster in this wooden beamed big-top circus. He wears a black top hat and approaches the piano like a lion tamer about to perform incredible tricks.
The only trick missing though is his cracking whip. (But he’ll compensate for this later in the show when the band mess up.)

Albarn announces that the album (also titled The Good, The Bad and The Queen) will be played in its entirety. And so begins the gentle ‘plink plink’ of the farfisa for History Song.  There are sound problems at first.  Clash legend Paul Simonon (resplendent in top-to-toe black) seems to take his time re-acquainting himself with the stage and the noisy feedback, but settles in eventually.  He drops his bass midway through third song Northern Whale (which Albarn explains was written about the mammal who swam and got stranded in the Thames earlier this year), but gets it together for the rest of the set.  He hasn’t lost his trademark stride and stage moves, which pleases many of the old punks in the audience.

By the fourth song Kingdom of Doom, (in which Albarn requires the band to start again due to a fuck up), the band, including Verve guitarist Simon Tong, are sufficiently warmed up. This fast and dramatic tune suits the vast backdrop behind the band of a London scene of which could be the Golbourne Road Bridge, possibly painted by artist Simonon.

Current radio single Herculean gets a rousing round of applause as does Behind the Sun, which Albarn prefaces with “ I wrote this song a few weeks after John Peel died. Please show your appreciation for a great man.”  But the song sounds cannily like a Blur number until drummer Tony Allen drops a gripping drum solo at the end. Much of the music is moody, dark and slow.  It’s a shame, as Simonon looks like he really wants to rock out. He does a few bendy crouches here and there as if to compensate. 

By far the highlight of this mostly competent performance is when Albarn throws a strop halfway through Three Changes.  It starts off well.  The keyboard begins with fairground music and one can almost imagine Albarn inviting us to ‘Roll up! Roll up!’ (This was the hottest ticket in town after all). Simonon begins to shine here, as the song is reminiscent of the Clash’s Crooked Beat. Then Albarn loses it. “Shit, we can play this a lot better. When you’ve only played four gigs you need to re-focus,” he says, cracking the imaginary lion tamer’s whip, “we need to re-fo-cus.” And so the band stops and starts the song again. It is the best song in their set. The audience, which includes the Kaiser Chiefs, Goldfrapp, Feargul Sharkey and Dizzy Rascal roar in appreciation.  “I haven’t heard that in a while,” says Damon somewhat surprised. And then he thanks us, “Very nice to see you in this fantastic place.”

After the carnival-esque The Good, The Bad and The Queen it is goodnight from them.

The ringmaster and his merry men exit stage left from this noir fair, having weaved an interesting tapestry of London tales in a revitalised historic setting.