Target audience is the buzzword many an A&R manconverses in. These days you can’t be signed unless acertain constituency is identified.
So, it numbs themind when some bands are signed with no clear marketin mind, and with little apparent hope of carving oneout for themselves.
That’s the impression you get as you labour throughthe beer and biceps of New Yorkers The Smash-Up. Theirtestosterone fuelled hard rock could be used as thefuriously loud soundtrack to an ultra violent videogame.
Better still, the Pentagon could procure 100,000of their CDs and pop them into the tanks deployed inIraq. Then your regular trigger happy Joe can happilydrive around blasting ‘insurgents’ with overwhelmingforce screaming “kill, kill, kill!” Smash it up? Giveus a hell yeah!
No the show proper tonight doesn’t really startuntil The Yo-Yo’s show up. Even though they claim tohave given up on giving up, Danny McCormack and co.look in terrific shape. After years of senselesspedalling on Uppers and Downers, the new EP wasshowcased with vintage gusto. So much so, that you’dbe forgiven for mistaking them for headliners, suchwas response from the floor. But there was no doubtingabout who and why we were all here for.
3 Colours Red hit the big time at an awkward pointin the mid 90′s. Signed to Creation, they wereenvisioned to be selling bucket loads and playing thekind of venues Oasis were swallowing in onestep.
By 1999 Britpop had heaved. Nu-metal was rife. The’Red upped the ante with Revolt, treading a fine linebetween production and pushing the rawness of Pureinto a record welcomed by the critics which steadilypropelled them into the limelight. But the ship wasshaking, and the band split spectacularly at whatseemed the moment the tide was turning, with a rammedsecond stage headline slot at the Reading and Leedsfestivals.
The prospect of The ‘Red reforming in 2003 was agenuinely warm one, but when they eventually put out TheUnion Of Souls, it was a convoluted mess. A shame,but considering the band were under pressure tofurther their sound in a post Strokes, and asit was soon to be, post Franz market, which isas volatile as it is fickle, it came as no surprise.And so with little fanfare it was left to a brieflyworded Email dispatched to the band’s mailing listthat The ‘Red announced their decision to split.
As they took to the stage this final time to thelooped intro of Paralyze, the memories of ten years ofthrills and spills were condensed into a breathlesshour. That it was in a small, swanky venue oddlylocated in the innards of a North London shopping mallperhaps wasn’t Hollywood as Vuckovic had imaginedit.
Almost ironically this was a band tighter, moreroad ready and firing on all cylinders than I had seenon many other occasions. There was an air ofacceptance from everyone, band included, knowing thatthere was no place for them in this world anymore -The World Is Yours was the only showing from the newrecord.
Knowing this, they played their hearts out as thefans sung theirs, barely displaying an emotion as apart of their life ebbed away uncontrollably in theflash of a greatest hits set. With an encore ofBeautiful Day and a defiant Hateslick it was over. Theband darted off in a hurry. Just as the speciallyprinted shirts had indicated, it was Thank You andGood Night.